Sounds drifted through the half-closed window—soft, rhythmic, unmistakable. My body tensed. I recognized the noises, the breathless moans that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.
I stood frozen.
Then came the voices.
“It’s alright, everything will work out,” Celeste said, her tone syrupy and confident.
“I hope you’re right,” Kael replied.
The air left my lungs.
“My brother’s unstable,” Celeste went on, “but this mess isn’t his fault.”
“I know,” Kael answered quietly.
Celeste cooed sympathetically. “Poor Lyra. It must be devastating, losing her little girl.”
“She’ll understand,” Kael said, as if none of this mattered. “She won’t act out. She never does.”
“She always had a dramatic streak,” Celeste said with a laugh that made my stomach churn. “You saw her earlier.”
“She’s just emotional,” he replied. “She’ll move on.”
Move on?
My entire body burned with rage, my wolf clawing at my insides. How dare he? How dare they sit there and speak so casually, as if I would simply roll over and forget?
Then Celeste’s voice turned quiet, almost tender. “It’s alright. We still have our son. I’ll raise him to be just like you.”
Son.
The word hit like a dagger. Something inside me shattered.