Lucian's POV
“Leo, pull every single detail on Allison from the past month—every threat, every little incident, even if she just scraped her knee.”
I paced back and forth across my office, my boots thudding loudly against the polished marble floor.
The image of Allison lying in that hospital bed kept replaying in my head like a bad movie: her forehead swollen into a nasty purple bruise, her amber eyes dimmed by the concussion, her voice trembling as she begged me to sign the divorce papers.
It wasn't just the physical hurt that twisted my gut—it was the look of total defeat in her posture.
*Our mate is hurting because we failed her,*Fenrir snarled inside me,.*We let her fight alone. We're cowards.*
I'd been so caught up in my own stupid drama—arguing about the divorce,
