MIRANDA
I'd known for much longer than I ever admitted.
If I ever tried to explain it, no one would believe me. They'd think this all started the day when Wren walked back into the Packhouse. Or the moment I stood outside and slapped her. Or when I caught my mate watching her walk down the hallway like he'd forgotten anyone else was in the building.
It had started long before all of that.
Lately, I noticed the way Elias went quiet whenever someone mentioned her name. Like someone had pressed pause on whatever he'd been doing and he needed a second before he could press play again. It happened fast enough that most people never noticed, but I never missed any of that.
The way he'd sometimes sit across from me at dinner and be present in every visible way — answering questions, doing a
