Brax POV
In a daze, Brax walked back to the packhouse. What had he done? He had hurt Veronica, and hurt himself. He could have asked Amber who had killed her, and talked to her, said goodbye.
Idiot! He scolded himself—his wolf grunting in agreement. He’d f****d up big time. He went straight to the fourth floor, to Wrenna’s room. He pushed open the door to find his little girl asleep, her brown curly hair tussled on the pillow.
He pushed her hair out of her face and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing he’d also taken away her chance to talk to her mother through Veronica.
With a sigh, he headed to the Alpha bar and poured himself a whiskey. He drank a few sips and then put down his glass. Drinking away his sorrow wasn’t going to help anyone.
He quickly
