Since everything had fallen apart, this was the first time Audrey had felt genuine kindness from anyone—let alone a stranger.
Her throat tightened, heat pricking behind her eyes. For a terrifying moment, she almost let herself break.
But she swallowed it back down. She had already bled enough in front of this world.
"I'm fine," Audrey said, steadying her voice and forcing a faint smile. "Just a pack… family matter, Mr. Wayne. Nothing you need to trouble yourself with."
A soft sound caught her ear. She glanced toward the doorway.
Little Bonnie had already slipped out of the bed. The girl stood there silently, watching Audrey with wide moonlit eyes—Dorian's eyes, just smaller and softer, a pup's version of her father's steady gaze.
"Bonnie's better now," Audrey said gently. "As long as you watch what she eats, she shouldn't flare up again anytime soon. It's late. Take her home."
The message was clear—Audrey was dismissing them.
Dorian clearly sensed the shift in her mood; his wolf instincts were sharper than most. He didn't push back. He straightened, dipped his head politely.
"Thank you, Ms. Willow," he said, his voice low and warm. "I owe you. I'll repay the favor another day."
When they left, silence settled over the apartment like a heavy fog.
The warm yellow lights cast Audrey's shadow long across the floor—thin, stretched, lonely. A she-wolf standing in her den, stripped of everything she had thought belonged to her.
The truth was, she had loved Fen.
Loved him as if he were her own pup.
Eight years of caring for him… a bond like that didn't disappear. Not for a wolf. Not for anyone.
But every time Audrey remembered that he was Lisa's child—while her own daughter's body had been taken, reduced to nothing but a grave with no remains—it sliced through her anew.
At least those who were never truly hers would soon be out of her life. One month more. Then they would be gone.
***
"Alpha Rowan, we still haven't located Luna—Mrs. Blackthorne."
Ned stood stiffly in front of Rowan's desk, delivering the report.
Back at the office, Lisa had already called Rowan several times—crying, hysterical, claiming Fen was throwing fits she couldn't control.
Audrey had hung up on her. She hadn't answered again.
Ned had even suggested searching the hospital, but Audrey had already left—vanished before Rowan had even lifted a finger.
"No traces at all?" Rowan growled, the pen snapping in his hand.
"I'm sorry, Alpha. I'll continue searching."
Rowan's jaw clenched. The frustration rolling off him was palpable—another wolf could have sensed it through walls, like a storm brewing.
A dull pain struck his stomach. He pressed a hand there, breath tightening.
"Alpha, are you alright? You should rest," Ned said quickly.
Rowan leaned back, eyes squeezed shut against the ache.
Whenever he used to feel sick, Audrey had been the one who handled it—the herbs, the teas, whatever other witchcraft she wielded.
Without her… everything in his world seemed to be falling apart.
He had once thought she didn't matter.
But now?
Now he realized he had lost something useful. That was all she had ever been to him—convenient. He had to admit that.
Rowan opened his eyes and snatched Ned's phone.
His fingers typed quickly.
"Audrey, I was wrong. Come home now."
He stared at the message. Deleted it. Too cold.
Then he typed again.
"Audrey, this is all my fault. I should never have taken Lisa to the hospital. I'm sorry. Where are you? Let's talk."
Satisfied, he sent it.
Rowan had always believed that lowering his pride a little was enough to make Audrey fold.
She would fold.
***
Audrey received the message.
She stared at the apology, emotionless. If anything, it was almost humorous.
Minutes earlier, Lisa had called. Now Rowan was pretending to be remorseful? He didn't mean a word. He only wanted his obedient caretaker back.
Audrey deleted the message. Then she blocked Ned's number as well.
The next morning, Riley showed up bright and early.
He slipped inside, eyes darting toward the bedroom. Audrey caught it immediately.
"What are you looking at?" she demanded.
Riley raised his brows. "Audrey… you didn't… have a man stay over last night, did you?"
She rolled her eyes. "It was a patient. Get your ridiculous thoughts out of my house and start cleaning."
She had only cleared enough space to sleep the night before. Sleep had come in pieces—broken, haunted.
Dreams of Rowan.
Dreams of Fen.
And another shadow… a little girl's face she couldn't see clearly, blood dripping in flashes of memory.
But when morning light streamed in and birdsong filled the window, something shifted.
This was the beginning of something new.
The first step: escape the poison that had been her life.
The second: reclaim her future.
Audrey and Riley spent hours cleaning.
When Riley finally collapsed onto the couch, he groaned, then muttered, "Audrey… that Rowan is a total bastard."
Audrey lazily lifted her gaze, lips twitching. "Can't argue with you."
A decent wolf—hell, a decent man—would never have done what Rowan had done.
"I found some things," Riley continued. "Let me send them."
He sent the files to her phone.
Piece by piece, the last eight years came into focus.
Rowan and Lisa—together long before Audrey. Deeply in love. Secretly bound.
Rowan had pursued Audrey not for love, but because Lisa was pregnant.
That night—Rowan's birthday—when Audrey had drunk too much and blacked out, waking beside him hadn't been fate.
It had been a trap.
Weeks later, when she discovered she was pregnant, Rowan had proposed—not out of responsibility, but out of calculation.
The so-called "accident" had been orchestrated. Audrey had been the decoy.
The vessel to keep Lisa hidden.
Two pups born at the same time could be switched.
And that was exactly what Rowan had done.
While Audrey went to prenatal appointments alone, Rowan was holding Lisa's hand at hers.
When Audrey went into labor, he left her delivery room to run straight into Lisa's.
He had been there when Lisa gave birth.
Audrey had been bleeding out, with no one to sign the consent forms.
Her baby girl.
The daughter she had carried.
She had never even made it into Audrey's arms.
Rowan had taken her.
Switched the babies.
Killed her future.
Eight years.
Audrey had been living a lie.
A shadow in someone else's love story—a convenient Luna, a free babysitter, a pawn.
Ding dong!
The doorbell snapped her back to the present.
"I'll get it!" Riley said, leaping up.
He swung the door open.
Rowan stood there.
His eyes locked onto Riley instantly—dark, cold, dangerous.
And his expression shifted into a snarl.