Alpha Grayson
I looked at the two girls sitting across from me.
Two people who should have had every reason to trust me.
And neither of them did.
The realisation sat heavily in my chest.
Lara was my daughter.
My flesh and blood.
Yet the way she watched me was the way someone watched a dangerous animal—carefully, cautiously, always prepared for the moment it might attack.
I had done that.
Not her.
Me.
I had spent four years hiding behind my position as Alpha.
Four years burying myself in anger after losing her mother.
Four years convincing myself that being strong meant being ruthless.
Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten that I wasn’t only an Alpha.
I was a father.
And I’d failed miserably.
I could almost hear her mother’s voice.
Look what you’ve done to our daughter.
