POV: Luther
The cup shattered in my hand.
Whiskey burned across my knuckles, slicing skin already raw. Amber spilt across reports and maps, bleeding over the border lines I’d drawn hours before I ruined everything.
You ruin it, Recce snarled, pacing inside my chest. You stood before them and cut our mate loose. You betrayed us.
“I chose the pack,” I said to the empty room.
You chose fear, he snapped, claws raking bone. Their rules over our bond.
I reached for the bottle anyway. The whiskey bit, then went warm. It didn’t quiet him. It never did.
The office smelled of leather, wood, iron—and faintly, still, of her. Fading like the air itself was erasing her. I scrubbed a hand down my jaw until my teeth ached.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her in silk. Chin high. Eyes wide. Brave
