I did not say a word to my father on the walk back to the packhouse. Not one. He trailed behind me asking questions like he suddenly cared, like he had not spent years pretending I was an inconvenient obligation. I ignored every word that came out of his mouth.
“Ayla, we are not finished discussing what I heard,” he said.
I kept walking.
“Ayla, answer me. What bond was Ronan referring to?”
Silence.
“Ayla. Stop walking. This is not negotiable.”
I walked faster.
My father’s footsteps grew heavier with irritation. “You cannot ignore me. I am your Alpha.”
I reached the packhouse door, yanked it open, and stepped inside. He followed me in, closing the door behind him with too much force.
“Ayla, you will answer my question,” he said, voice rising.
I whirled on him, eyes burning. “Ask m
