Olivia's POV
Aggressively, he let go of me and turned his back on me. My throat still burned from his grip, but I stood frozen, staring at him. His shoulders rose and fell sharply, his breath ragged, heavy—like I had torn something open inside him. His back was turned, but I didn't need to see his face to know my words had struck deep. He wasn't smirking anymore. He wasn't taunting me. He was… hurting.
My wolf shifted uneasily inside me. "He loves her."
The truth hit me like a bucket of cold water. The way his chest moved up and down, the way his hands opened and closed—it wasn't just anger. It was sadness. A sadness so deep it had cut into him for years, and now it leaked out through the cracks in the mask he always wore.
Hailee.
Just her name, spoken aloud, was enough to unravel him. And in that moment, I realized something. This man—this monster—was in love with her. Not a passing desire, not a fleeting hunger. He loved her. Obvious, painful, desperate love.
