On my eighteenth birthday, he had given me a moonstone bracelet. It had both of our initials engraved on it, along with tiny paw prints. He had put it on my wrist, a symbol of the bond we shared. He had placed it on my wrist with such care, such affection, back when things were different—before Selene returned to our lives and tore us apart.
But that bracelet was gone. Ripped away by the woman who had taken my life. She had sneered when she yanked it from my wrist, telling me I didn’t deserve it, that Ryland was never mine to begin with and I was unworthy of being part of the pack.
Now, all that was left were the deep, jagged, silver cuts on my wrists. There was no trace of the bracelet, no sign of the love that had once existed between Ryland and me.
With a thoughtful look on his face, Ryland left the pack Lab, heading to the pack’s archives. It didn’t take him long to find the file he was looking for.
He pulled out a worn folder, marked with a date from twenty years ago [The Crescent Pack Full Moon Massacre].