OWEN’S POV.
They thought I took her. That I stole my own mate.
And when I thought she would finally come back and clear my name, when I held on to the hope that she would look at me and remember—remember us, remember me—she returned… with nothing.
No recognition. No bond. No love.
Just empty eyes staring at me like I was a stranger.
I didn’t lift my head when I heard footsteps echoing down the hallway but I did not want to let myself hope.
The door creaked open.
And then I felt it.
Her scent.
Like home. Like everything I had spent my life protecting.
I exhaled, finally looking up.
Mirabel stood just inside the threshold, hesitation in every line of her body. Damian was just behind her, his arms crossed, watching me like a guard dog.
“She is here,” he said flatly. “Talk.”
Then
