Birds sang softly, their calls sounding hesitant. It felt like the world paused, sad for what had vanished. The Wolfe estate, which once stood for great power and prestige, now stands as a huge house simply holding its breath.
In the rear garden where ancient stone paths curved between moonflowers and frostwillow trees, Jaxon stood before the statue of the first Wolfe patron. Time had worn cracks into the old stone, ivy curling along the base, but the face still bore the pride and steel of a man who once unified the clans.
Jaxon didn’t move.
His hands were in his coat pockets, his shoulders stiff, and his sharp eyes looked dull now. They seemed like steel cooled too fast.
Sienna stepped quietly onto the path behind him. Her sharp senses picked up the heartbeat of the man right in front
