Ethan kicked open the Pack House door, and the hinges gave a shrill, grating scream.
The housekeeper stood in the center of the foyer, her hands folded over her apron, her face solemn as if she were attending a funeral.
"She's gone, Alpha Ethan."
Ethan stopped dead. Rick threw himself against the cage of Ethan's control, savage enough to make his ribs ache.
"Where did she go? When did she leave?"
The old housekeeper shook her head. "She didn't say where she was going."
Ethan's gaze swept across the living room. The moonstone ornament that had once sat on the coffee table was gone. The dried flowers she had tied with ribbon and set along the windowsill were gone. In the corner, the teacup rack she had installed herself was gone. Even the screw holes had been filled, leaving only four
