Pain throbbed in my ribs with every shallow breath, but it was nothing compared to the storm raging inside me. Grandpa's confession, admitting he'd orchestrated attacks on Naomi, my fated mate, had left me reeling. His proud declaration that she "needed to die," the way he'd invoked my parents' murder as justification, it all twisted like a knife in my gut.
The family stood around my bed, their faces a mix of concern and tension: Uncle Kingsley frowning deeply, Aunt Mira dabbing at her eyes, Lucy shifting uncomfortably beside Ronan. Grandpa loomed at the foot of the bed, his golden eyes challenging mine, unrepentant.
I couldn't take it anymore. My alpha instincts screamed to confront him fully, to rip into the hypocrisy of a man who'd taught me justice but practiced vengeance on an
