Elena's POV
"My father was strong," Damian said quietly, staring at some point beyond my shoulder, somewhere in memory rather than the room itself. "Stronger than any Alpha the council could remember in three generations. He should have lived decades longer than he did."
"What happened?"
"Officially, his heart failed. Sudden, unexpected, the kind of thing that happens even to people who seem invincible." His jaw tightened, old grief surfacing beneath careful, practiced control. "Wolves don't typically die that way, Elena. Our bodies don't fail the way human bodies do, not without significant cause. When the pack physician gave that explanation, half the council accepted it without question. The other half never quite believed it."
"Which half were you?"
"I didn't know what to believe.
