BRAHAM'S POV
FOUR YEARS EARLIER— BARCELONA
The November air in Barcelona carried the salt-sweet scent of the Mediterranean. I stood in the shadows across from the third-floor apartment, hands shoved deep in my pockets.
11:47 PM. The lights were still on.
Through the sheer curtains, I could see her moving…Millie-Rose, around 5-6 months pregnant, one hand pressed to her lower back. Even from this distance, I could see the exhaustion in her posture.
Cross the street, my wolf Vorn snarled. Go to her. She's our mate. She's carrying our pup.
"We can't," I whispered into the darkness.
Because three months ago in Mexico, she'd left me a note: Stop looking for me. I'll return when I'm ready. — Millie
So I'd stopped hunting. Stopped tracking. But I couldn't stop this…weekly check-ins from a
