The weight of the night pressed down on Jeffrey as he sat in the wreckage of the pack house. His hands trembled, still covered in the dust and splinters from his outburst. His chest heaved with every ragged breath, the last remnants of his wolf’s rage simmering just beneath the surface. The silence in the house was thick, punctuated only by the occasional creak of broken furniture.
Kenneth was gone.
The bond they had shared, the connection that had been a part of him for so long, was severed. It wasn’t just an emptiness; it was a chasm, a gaping wound that burned in every corner of his soul. He had felt Kenneth’s death before the news had reached him, a sharp, unbearable pain that had brought him to his knees. There was no denying it. His mate was dead.
He had destroyed the pack house i
