[Your mate is impossibly devoted, very romantic. He penned me a hundred letters, watched over me all night, never once resting. The pack omegas only told him you were stirring, and that’s when he finally tore himself away to see you.]
The next message arrived almost instantly, each word coated in deliberate malice, a venomous taunt designed to twist the knife deeper:
[Kaia, you’ll never surpass me. If you have any sense, you should just step aside.]
My chest burned, a wild, bitter fire igniting behind my ribs, yet I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing me break. My fingers hovered over the screen, trembling as if the blood of my ancestors, the fierce Blackthorn wolves, were coursing through them, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Before I could respond, the door creaked open, carrying the stiff, deliberate energy of someone who belonged to the human world but knew little of the pack's silent rules. A man in a crisp black suit stepped in, his movements precise, his gaze sweeping the room with practiced efficiency, barely acknowledging me before turning to Alpha Alaric.