Chapter 12

A week passed. The packhouse halls grew quieter with each day. Warriors tread softly, omegas whispered behind closed doors, and even the wind seemed to avoid the Alpha’s windows. Because every night, like clockwork, the Alpha sat on the dusty floor of his office, bottle in hand, surrounded by ghostly memories of her... His fated mate. The amber liquid burned down his throat, but it wasn’t enough to numb it. Nothing was. He lifted the bottle again, eyes glazed. He couldn't erase Vanessa's...