Lucian's POV
There was no warmth in her eyes. No guilt. Not even a flicker of shame. Just silence.
It wasn't the silence of someone who had nothing to say. It was the silence of someone who didn't need to say anything. Like she was watching a chicken being slaughtered and felt nothing.
Like she was watching me bleed.
I stared at her, and it was like a bad memory had clawed its way back into my life. One I thought I'd burned, buried, and left behind in the ruins of what used to be my pack.
But she stood here, alive and untouched. And all I could see was everything we'd lost.
There wasn't just disgust in me anymore. That would've been easier. Cleaner.
No. What I felt now was worse. Colder. It had festered in my bones over the years, buried under every scar, every nightmare, every betrayal. I didn't even recognize it at first. But now, standing here with her in front of me, it was impossible to ignore.
Hatred.
