"I think I'll skip the side chamber. Didn't my husband just mention there's a feast going on? My daughter and I are starving. We'll eat there. And while we're at it, my mate can introduce us to everyone."
"Narelle!"
Finn's voice dropped to a sharp growl, low enough that his wolf bled through it. "You want to walk into that feast dressed like that? You'd humiliate the entire pack on purpose?"
"At least change your clothes first. Edith, would you take her to—"
Finn froze the moment the words left his mouth. When I said nothing, he rushed to explain.
"Narelle, don't misunderstand. Edith is the only family I have left in this pack. I think of her as my own sister. That's why I call her that."
"There is absolutely nothing between us!"
His frantic explanation only made my stomach turn.
I would never forget what I saw in the moments before I died.
Edith had wept and lied, claiming that my daughter and I had been greedy and eaten wolfsbane-laced pastries by mistake, and that was how we'd died.
Finn hadn't shed a single tear for us. Instead, his face had softened with tenderness as he pulled Edith into his arms, slipped the clothes from her shoulders, and held her close.
He kissed the tears from her cheeks, murmuring comfort.
"Dead is dead. Even if she hadn't died, I would've served her the bond dissolution in a few days anyway."
"For years now, the only people in my heart have been you and the two pups. There's no room for anyone else, and I won't let anyone disturb our life in this territory."
From that moment on, everything I'd ever felt for him was gone.
Edith brought me back out once I'd changed. Finn was crouching in front of Hildegarde. "Don't you remember your father?"
Hildegarde stared at him in terror, shrinking back step by step, then ran to me and clung to my leg. I could feel the small tremors running through her body, and the faint wild-clover scent of her fear sharpened against my senses.
"She was only a few months old when you left. You didn't come back for five years. How would she possibly remember you?"
Hildegarde was only five, but with the grime washed from her face, she looked like a little porcelain doll.
Finn scooped her up and tried to coax her. "Be a good girl, Hilda. Say 'Daddy.' I'm your daddy."