The bedroom door closed behind Ronan with a soft click. I stood motionless, staring at the wooden panels, replaying our conversation. Had I just made the biggest mistake of my life, trusting my treacherous brother to double-cross the Regent? Or had I finally found a way to gain an advantage in this deadly game?
My eyes drifted back to Seraphina's still form on our bed. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, her face untroubled in sedated sleep. The bruises on her exposed skin had darkened to ugly purple-black marks. Each one was a personal failure etched into my conscience.
I returned to her side, carefully sitting on the edge of the mattress. "I'll fix this," I whispered, though she couldn't hear me. "I swear to the Goddess, I'll make this right."
But how? The question tormented me. I might be an Alpha, might command hundreds of wolves with a single word, but I felt utterly helpless against the trauma Seraphina had endured.
