I had imagined the worst when I saw the blood in the dungeon. When I heard she'd been whipped with silver, silver, my mind broke. Addison's wolf was unresponsive; her body was as weak as a human's. I didn't need details to imagine how bad it was.
I snapped.
I tore through anything and anyone in my way. Pack members, warriors, it didn't matter. Shura and I became one in that moment, feral and wild, drenched in red. My heart had cracked wide open with fear, a fear that she would die... and I hadn't even had the chance to make things right.
But now, seeing her, standing, breathing, beautiful, I wanted to crumble. I wanted to fall to my knees and wrap my arms around her, beg for her forgiveness, and drown in her scent just to convince myself she was real.
I had so much to say. About Claire. About every mistake I made. About how deeply I regret everything.
But my mouth just opened and closed, useless. What excuse could ever make up for the pain I caused her?
