“Damn her!”
The curse rips from my throat, echoing in the silent expanse of the pack library.
Damn her lies, damn her manipulations, damn the years she stole from me.
I’ve just finished the last entry in my grandfather’s journal, the elegant script fading into the shaky hand of my grandmother as she documented his final days, her hope a fragile and desperate plea that the same genetic weakness wouldn’t claim their son, my father.
It hadn’t.
According to her entries, my father was a picture of health, strong and vibrant, ready to take on the mantle of Alpha.
The records stop abruptly, a few days before his scheduled claiming ceremony, the last words a lament for her own failing health.
Unmated.
He was still unmated when she died.
I slam the leather-bound journal shut, the so
