Knowing my mother, she could’ve easily lied to this guy—fed him some poetic bullshit about Destiny, redemption, and second chances just to make herself look like the victim again.
And he?
He looked the type to believe it. Loyal. Old school. The kind of man who’d die for honor, even if the story was written in half-truths.
But if Destiny was so damn wonderful, so forgiving—
Why the hell was I living this nightmare?
Why was my mate ripped away from me?
Why was my pup suffering before even taking a breath?
Why did I feel like I was fighting against the world with only fury and willpower left in my fists?
If this was a blessing from Destiny…
Then she could keep it.
“Alpha Camelot,” I said, voice edged with steel, “I’m not sure my mother was entirely honest with you. I know her better
