"You do not mean that,” I reply, fighting back the pain the venom of his words and tone are causing me.
"I mean every— word."
"So you really don't care about me at all? Is that it?" I break and I hate that my voice shakes, "if you can really stand here where your daughter bleeds and feel nothing—"
"Feel nothing for whom?" He says it quietly and it is the cruelest thing yet. "My daughter died five years ago. She died the day she stood in front of the whole pack and chose a mate over her blood, over her name, over everything I made her to be. I buried her that day. Whatever you are, you are wearing her face, but do not stand on this road and ask Cassius to grieve for a woman who is still walking around inside the skin of the child he lost."
My heart clenches, harder than it ever has as I
