I stared at the bloodstain on the floor where the pack members had died. Their blood had dried into a dark, rusty pattern against the white tile. Someone had attempted to clean it, but the stubborn outline remained like a shadow. A reminder.
My stomach twisted.
I should be horrified. Devastated. These were people I'd known for years. Not friends, exactly—not after how they'd treated me—but familiar faces from my former life.
So why was I sitting here, replaying the gentle way Kael had bandaged my wrist? The strange safety I'd felt when his massive hands cradled mine?
What the hell was wrong with me?
"You're losing your mind," I whispered to myself, pulling my knees to my chest.
The memory of Kael's wolf speaking played on repeat in my head. Lykos. That was its name. And it had actually defended me, called Kael out for scaring me.
