The day I resolved to cut ties with Alpha Xavier forever, a call from my lawyer disrupted my plans.
“Alpha Duncan,” he said, voice tight with urgency, “is on his deathbed. He’s asked to see you.”
Alpha Duncan. Once the formidable leader of the Blue Moon Pack, and the source of much of my suffering. But he was also my savior—the only one who reached out to help when my mother and I were thrown out of the hospital for failing to pay our medical bills. He gave my mother eight more years of life.
Duty or sentiment? I couldn’t tell. But I decided to go.
As I approached the sprawling estate of the Blue Moon Pack, memories clawed their way to the surface—some bittersweet, most bitter.
Inside, Alpha Duncan lay propped up on a sea of pillows, his once-commanding frame shrunken, his sharp gaze
