He held out a letter. The wax seal was cracked, the parchment dusted with road grit. It came from one of the old Alaric estate messengers, sent by horse at full gallop.
I didn't need to open it to know.
By now, the whole town was drowning in filthy rumors—wolves whispering that I'd run off with some secret mate the moment Theodore got his senses back. They said I'd broken the bond in disgrace. That I was a she-wolf without honor.
My fingers trembled for a moment. But I smiled.
"Let them talk," I said softly. "I stopped caring a long time ago."
Lucien's jaw tightened. "These lies—they're planned. Deliberate."
I shrugged, turning back to the herbs. "I've already survived the iron-spike bed. A few slanderous tongues don't scare me."
He didn't speak for a while. Then he said, gently, "I
