Carlos’s P.O.V.

The sight of that old gray wolf had never failed to soften the edges of my soul. Its fur was worn thin, and one buttoned eye was dangling by a thread. But still, it was priceless for me.

I brushed my fingers over its rough fabric and for a moment, I was back in the Crystal River Pack as a lonely boy, clutching the only warmth he had.

I lifted my gaze to Harley, ready to tell her how much it meant, but paused when I caught her expression. Her eyes were widened, shock flickering there and behind it… questions.

Closing the lid halfway, I spoke in a...