Damien’s point of View.
The pack house felt wrong without her. Now she was back, and too many wolves were moving as if nothing had changed. Too many pretending routines still mattered. I didn’t stop when they spoke to me. I didn’t slow down when someone reached for my arm. Alpha authority didn’t matter right now. None of it did. The only thing that existed was the image of Ava’s body lying still where it shouldn’t have been still, and the understanding that I had failed at the one thing that actually counted.
But now, I had her back and she was safe in my bed. Ava lay on her side, small beneath the blankets, her frame pulled inward like she was conserving what little strength she had left. Her face was pale, not the soft pale of sleep but the washed-out kind that came after shock. Her br
