[Ace's POV]
Ovelia and Ann stood wrapped in Mrs. Melinda's embrace, Ovelia's shoulders relaxed in a way I'd never seen before.
The way her fingers clutched Mrs. Melinda's shawl—not desperately, but with quiet wonder, like a child discovering warmth for the first time—sent an unexpected tightness through me. Her eyes gleamed brighter than the lantern light flickering around us, and when her tears finally fell, Mrs. Melinda caught them with her thumb, brushing them away with a tenderness that made my throat ache.
She's never had this, I realized. Never had someone to hold her like that. Never had a mother's touch. The thought burned through me like acid.
Somewhere out there, a man and a woman had raised her. They'd fed her, clothed her, given her a roof and a bed and a name. And they'd made her life a living hell.
If I ever see them again, I thought, the wolf stirring with dark intent, I will show them exactly what happens to people who hurt what's mine.
