The plans I had made went straight down the drain before I could even begin them. But at least I learned where my mate stands. I should have known better—these things will only work when she feels ready, not when I decide the timing.
I thought I could help her now. I was wrong. And I won’t make it her fault. It isn’t.
What I did want to do, however, was punch my twin in the face for laughing at her pain. I should have known he would f**k it up—just like always. Some things never change, no matter what decade we’re in.
The pack members already know who she is. They know she’s being treated like a Luna, even if I had to command them not to ask why. They listened, but I could feel the unease in my bond with them—an unspoken weight, as though they thought I was hiding something. Which I am.
