The library becomes my sanctuary over the next few days, my hiding place from the constant countdown everyone seems determined to remind me about.
Ten days.
Ten f*****g days until the ceremony.
I've been reading Winter's journal almost religiously, devouring every entry like it's giving me ammunition when really it's just feeding my twisted curiosity. Learning his secrets without permission is the only defiance that satisfies me anymore—discovering things he probably never wanted anyone to know.
Like his ridiculous childhood crush on his combat trainer, a woman twice his age who he described with the kind of reverence usually reserved for deities. Or the entry where nine-year-old Winter tried to convince Rex to take his place as future Alpha because the pressure from his father had bec
