I broke the bond to save him. I watched it destroy him anyway.
Five years ago, I severed the most sacred connection a wolf can share — and let Hendrix believe I simply didn’t want him anymore. I had no choice. The Wasting was killing me, and a mate’s death through an open bond can pull the survivor under. I chose his life over his heart.
Now I’m back. Running out of time. And the man I shattered is the only thing that might save me.
He hates me. I deserve every cold word. But every time he comes close, I feel the ghost of what I destroyed — alive, reaching, refusing to stay dead.
He was supposed to have moved on. I was supposed to die quietly.
Neither of us is very good at doing what we’re supposed to.
What do you do when the love you amputated grows back — and it’s the only thing keeping you alive?
