Duggar
My eyes never left her.
Agatha. Her name etched itself across the bones of my memory like an old scar that refused to fade. She danced in his arms, the so-called Alpha Josiah, as if the world hadn't fallen apart around them. Her laugh echoed through the hall like wind chimes on a stormy night, beautiful, delicate, utterly misplaced in this world full of wolves and traitors.
She didn’t know it, but I had already marked her. Not for love. For leverage.
The music played on, but I didn’t hear it. Not truly. My gaze cut through the crowd, through the glimmer and smiles, to that polished stage where the Crimson Pack showed off its perfect new Alpha like a trophy.
I knew better. I knew the rot under the red.
Because I had lived it. I had seen all of it.
I was born here.
The adopted
