Yet there he was… holding her like she had always been the only one who mattered.
Brielle’s POV
When I returned to the pack mansion that night, the quiet felt suffocating in a way it never had before. Each step I took echoed through the halls, the sound hollow and mocking, as though the house itself knew what had happened.
Sleep never came.
I lay in bed staring at the empty space beside me—the place where Xavier should have been if everything had unfolded the way it was meant to. The pillows remained untouched, the blankets smooth and cold. Outside, rain fell relentlessly, tapping against the windows like quiet sobs. It felt as though even the Moon Goddess mourned alongside me.
By the time dawn broke, I had already given up on sleep. I sat alone in the garden, wrapped in a thin shawl, watching droplets cling to the roses as the early morning air brushed against my skin. My wolf remained restless, uneasy.
I sensed him before I saw him.
His scent drifted toward me—oakwood and smoke, sharp yet achingly familiar. My chest tightened despite myself, my heart responding in a way I wished it wouldn’t.
Xavier stepped into the garden moments later.