1:03 a.m. Holloway Manor. Logan’s study.
I turned the key—one he forgot to reclaim—and slipped inside.
Same polished bookshelves. Same leather-and-cedar scent I once mistook for “home.”
Now it just smelled like betrayal.
I opened the first drawer of his redwood desk. Empty. Second drawer—bingo. Letters sealed in black wax, Felicity’s handwriting all over them.
“Dear Logan, I finally did it. I made Meghan cry today.”
“She thinks she’s sick. I’ve been slipping suppressants in her drink for weeks.”
Page after page, the bile in my throat thickened. They weren’t just having an affair. They were laughing while poisoning me.
And at the bottom—a single letter sealed with the mark of the Fallen Wolves.
“Blood pact formed. Before her full awakening, bring her to the temple. Her Moonmark sha
