She tightened her grip on the bracelet, her gaze darkening with something heavy and bittersweet.
“I really wasn’t here,” she said softly. “I only came back yesterday.”
Luciano frowned.
“Why?”
“My father…” She faltered, her lips trembling. “He decided I disgraced the family. Acted… improperly. So he sent me abroad. To a closed boarding school. A punishment for… that night.”
She met his eyes, and in hers lived sorrow, resentment, and the smallest flicker of guilt.
“You know,” she whispered, “sometimes I regret stopping you that night. Because if I hadn’t… I’d be free now.”
His eyes darkened. Something tore inside him—rage at those who locked her away, pain for every lost day, and a fierce longing to touch her again. Not as a wolf, but as a man torn open by love.
“Don’t say that,” he
