ALARIC

I watched Desdemona break, slowly. Piece by piece.

I felt her pain like it was branded into my bones, into my wolf’s chest. Every time she stared into nothing, every time she sat too still, every time her eyes lost that spark she once carried, it felt like punishment carved directly for me.

I wanted to be there for her. I wanted to pull her into my arms, to tell her she was safe, that no one would ever touch her again.

But I realized something bitter.

Everything happening to her was because of me.

So I stayed where I belonged–in the shadows.

I protected her from a distance,...