Malcolm’s voice failed him. For the first time since I’d met him, the indomitable Alpha was speechless. He stared at Enrique, not with hatred, but with a horrifying realization dawning in his eyes as a jagged accusation—in decades.

Enrique let out a wet, rattling breath, his eyes welling with oily tears that never fell. "The real perpetrators always said they’re innocent while the victim crumpled in silent trying to live along the wilderness. How could you, Alpha?”

The air in the silver prison suddenly felt impossible to breathe. I looked at Malcolm, waiting for him to deny it, to call it another mind game—but his face had gone completely bloodless....