Lucian's POV
The mansion feels like a tomb tonight.
Not the quiet kind— the empty kind, where every sound bounces off the vaulted ceilings lined with dark oak beams and echoes back twice as loud.
Normally, I don't mind it.
The silence's a shield, keeps the noise of the pack and the mess of my own head at bay.
But tonight? It's just amplifying that damn text message, looping in my brain like a bad song.
Tomorrow. Are you free?
Three. f*****g. Years.
She texts me like she's confirming a dentist appointment.
The cold night air seeped through the window frames, stirring the white sheers.
It was the same kind of chill that had filled this house the night she left.
Fenrir, my wolf, paced restlessly in my mind.*Our mate reaches out.*
"My mate," I muttered to
