POV: Colt

The pack house was silent.

I sat alone in my study with the curtains drawn and the fire dying in the hearth and a glass of whiskey in my hand that I had not touched in hours. The room was dark and cold and the only light came from the embers glowing orange in the grate.

She had been gone for three months.

Three months of waking up in an empty bed. Three months of walking through halls that felt too large and too quiet. Three months of reaching for her in the middle of the night and finding nothing but cold sheets.

I had sent wolves after...