The weight of responsibility settled heavily on my shoulders as I stood on the doorstep, bracing myself. This was my third visit today, and each one had carved deeper into my soul. Taking a deep breath, I knocked firmly.
The door swung open to reveal Elara Trent, her young face etched with grief that aged her beyond her years. Her eyes—red-rimmed and hollow—widened with recognition.
"Alpha Thorne," she whispered, her voice cracking.
"Mrs. Trent," I said, forcing steadiness into my tone. "May I come in?"
She nodded, stepping back to allow me entry into the modest home she'd shared with Hugo—no, Orion. Even in my thoughts, I was still reconciling his dual identity. The small living space was cluttered with evidence of mourning: flowers, casseroles from neighbors, and a framed photo of Orion in his Shadow Guard uniform.
"The children are with my mother," she explained, gesturing for me to sit. "I didn't want them to see me like this."
