Third Person’s POV
He’d written it down.
Tucked in his palm, clutched so tight it crumpled in his shaking fist—he’d written down what he’d seen and, scrawled across the bottom was an apology.
He was sorry.
Sorry he hadn’t realized what his bond had dealt with her entire life.
Sorry nobody had protected her.
Sorry he couldn’t protect her in the end.
Sorry, sorry—
A hand clamped onto his shoulder, jostling him from his thoughts and, vacantly, Isaac could see the sheer terror written across the face of the woman who looked far too similar to the one he’d spent most of his life scorning. In his fervor to confront her, Isaac hadn’t realized he’d cornered her alone in the office—and she looked like a terrified animal, shaking before him.
Why would she fear him?
The hand at his shoulder
