Jefferson's POV
The question had always haunted me—how could someone as gentle and beautiful as my mother have fallen for a man like my father? How could anyone love such a heartless bastard?
My father ruled through cruelty, yet somehow she adored him completely. She became his weakness, the only crack in his armor. Perhaps that gave credence to the whole concept of destined mates. Still, despite her devotion, he never allowed her to speak at a single pack gathering.
Any situation that might diminish his authority, even slightly, he crushed without hesitation. That ruthless need for control had unfortunately become part of my DNA too.
What I had just done—granting Elisabeth the right to address my entire pack—should have been impossible for someone like me. Yet here we were. No one else had ever affected me the way she did. No one else had earned my complete trust.
Not even Gordon, surprisingly.
