“Ryker.” My voice comes out small.
He’s still on his knees, head bowed like he’s trying to hold his wolf down by force. I sit across the room, my elbows on my thighs, my forehead pressed into my hands because looking at him hurts too much.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, and the tears come hot and immediate. “First my stupid gifts get our pack attacked and Jax killed, and now this—now they’re dragging you through the same nightmare again. I swear I never wanted any of it. I never wanted to hurt you.”
Ryker’s head snaps up. For a second I see two things in him at once—the man who held me after the memorial, and the Alpha who has buried too many women. His throat works like he’s swallowing something sharp.
“Don’t,” he says, voice rough. “Don’t put Jax on your shoulders. Don’t put me on your s
