Jack

“How can that be?” The words escaped me in a whisper. “She can’t do that.”

“She can’t do what?” Mother leaned forward, concern etching her features. “Tell me, speak up, son.”

I forced a smile, though my eyes caught my father’s furious gaze. “Nothing, Mother.” Then, turning to Dad, I added, “I can’t remember anything.” The lie tasted bitter. I refused to believe my mate could do something vile like that.

She wasn’t capable of such things. There had to be another explanation – perhaps the maids in that wretched pack had manipulated her, handed her poison while claiming it was medicine for my wounds.

I could feel my...