Ella,
Paige had always been good at pain…. the theatrical kind. I could hear her heart racing beneath the thin fabric of her chest. Too fast. Too loud. Excitement, not heartbreak.
She was enjoying this.
She wanted to ruin me.
“Ella,” she sobbed, her voice trembling like glass on the edge of breaking, “why must you always do this? Since childhood, you’ve competed with me for everything…”
Her words wrapped around the room like poison.
I let her speak.
Let her remember her script.
Let her cry.
Because my wolf was watching quietly behind my ribs, head tilted, ears high.
Study your prey, she whispered. Let them expose their throats.
She talked about childhood. About sacrifice about love.
Every word meant to make her look broken.
But I could hear her thoughts.
Jack’s arms tightene
