That question hit me harder than anything else.
I knew him too well. I knew how quickly his mind could turn inward, how easily he could start blaming himself. If I kept hiding this, he would only think worse things.
So I let out a slow breath and stopped resisting.
"Let me see your hand," he said again.
This time, I nodded.
He carefully pulled back my sleeve, and the moment he saw the white bandage wrapped around my wrist, stained through with fresh blood, his whole expression changed. His eyes darkened. His pupils narrowed. The air around him went cold enough to make my skin tighten.
"Who hurt you?" he asked.
I had never seen him look so frightening.
The Alpha in him had risen fully now, silent and dangerous.
"It's not what you think," I said quickly. "I did it myself."
He went very still. For a moment, he said nothing at all.
Then, in a low, rough voice, he asked, "So you know everything now, don't you?"
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him.
