The midnight air pressed heavy against the chamber walls, still and suffocating. A pale shard of moonlight slipped through the half-drawn curtains, pooling like liquid silver on the cold floorboards.
Theodore jolted upright at the edge of the bed, his shoulders heaving as though a phantom's grip held him down. One massive hand dragged down his face, covering his eyes, muffling the tremor in his breath. A sound broke from him — not a roar, not the voice of an Alpha — but a fractured whisper, the cry of a man shackled to sins too old to forget.
Isabella stirred beside him. Half-drowned in sleep, her lashes fluttered, her ears straining. At first it was a mere murmur, a ghost against the silence. But slowly, words bled clear, carving wounds into the stillness.
"Dante…" Theodore's voice cracked, low but sharp enough to cut her heart. "I'm sorry. I should not have ended you … yet my rage, it devoured me whole. The thought of you… stealing what was mine — my mate, my honor — it set fire to my blood. And though I knew you carried half of my blood, though I knew you were my brother… still, I killed you in fury."
His fingers tightened against his temples, nails digging crescents into his skin.
"I ignored you, Dante. Every time you reached for me, I turned away. Every word, every glance… I cast them aside as if you were nothing. And yet you came back, again and again, until I shattered you with my own hands." His breath shuddered. "I am sorry, my brother. I am sorry. If you still walk the woods, if your heart still beats beneath this cursed moon… I swear, no harm will come to you. Not by me, not by my wolves. Never again."
Isabella's heart twisted violently. Dante… alive? The name alone seared into her like a brand. She pressed trembling fingers to her lips, smothering the sob that clawed up her throat. Tears welled, blurring the pale streak of moonlight as she lay frozen, afraid to stir, afraid he would hear the truth of her waking.
Beside her, the monster of Crescent Bloodpack wept — and in his tears, she saw not an Alpha, not a beast, but a man unraveling beneath the weight of his ghosts.