Chapter 6
Blake staggered through the empty Pack House, flinging open doors with increasing desperation.
The master bedroom-Lena’s scent still lingered on the pillows, but her side of the closet stood barren.
The guest room. The study. The walk-in wardrobe.
Finally, he reached the nursery.
The moment he crossed the threshold, his knees gave out.
Oh gods.
Oh gods, it’s real.
Now he understood the look in Lena’s eyes last night-that bottomless grief, that hatred.
And this morning… that tattered teddy bear in her arms…
He had finally recalled that it was their daughters’ favorite toy. All the memories were flooding through his mind.
And what had he said?
“What trash are you carrying around? Toss it out before it stinks up the house.”
A strangled sound tore from his throat. His lungs burned as if filled with acid.
Suddenly, a memory surfaced-
The twins’ fifth birthday. Miles had forced him to take them to the amusement park.
Little Nancy, peering up at him with those wide, hopeful eyes:
“Daddy… you’re not working today? I’m so happy! Thank you for celebrating with us!”
And Kate, slipping her tiny hand into his:
“Mommy was right. You are the best daddy in the world.”
Blake collapsed face-first onto the nursery floor, gasping like a drowning man.
They’d been so sweet. So loving.
Yet on the day he’d shoved them into that van bound for The Obedience Den, he’d snarled:
“Disrespectful brats! Is this how your mother teaches you to treat guests? No wonder you’re as worthless as she is!”
Hot tears splattered across the hardwood.
Then-a glint of something under the crib.
Blake crawled forward, his trembling fingers closing around a faded photograph.
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Lena and the twins, beaming under a cherry blossom tree. And beside them…
A crudely drawn stick figure labeled “DADDY” in wobbly crayon.
A sob ripped through him.
This was all she’d left for him.
Nothing else.
She wants me to suffer.
Fumbling for his phone, he dialed Lena’s number again and again.
But only the automated voice answered:
“The subscriber you dialed is unavailable-”
Each repetition carved deeper into his soul.
For the first time, Blake realized:
Lena had always been there.
Twenty-one years. Since they were eight years old.
No matter how cruelly he treated her, no matter how many times he walked away-
She’d stayed.
Waiting. Hoping. Taking care of their precious pups. Telling them their father was the best daddy in the world and he was just too busy at work so he couldn’t play with them that often.
Until he’d destroyed the last reason she had to endure him.
Now?
Now she’d vanished without a trace.
Miles’s mansion loomed ahead. Blake barely parked before sprinting to the door.
Inside, Sierra and Miles sat hunched over the twins’ pup photos, their tears staining the gilded frames.
Sierra whirled on him, eyes blazing.
“You’re banned from here! Get out!”
Blake ignored her. He dropped to his knees before Miles, his voice raw.
“Grandpa… please. Tell me where Lena is.”
The old Alpha didn’t even look up.
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“Why? So you can hurt her more?”
Blake pressed his forehead to the floor, his shoulders shaking.
“I’ll beg. I’ll grovel. I’ll cut out my own heart if she asks. Just… let me see her one last time.”
Miles finally met his gaze-and what Blake saw there shattered him completely.
Pity.
“It’s too late, boy. She doesn’t want you anymore.”
A broken whisper: “Where is she?”
Sierra answered instead, her voice hollow.
“Gone. She has left at dawn with everything related to Nancy and Kate.”
“She has made up her mind to go somewhere you’ll never know. She deserves some peace, please. After everything you have put her through, Blake, let her go with the girls. That’s all she’s got left in the whole world.”
Blake’s blood turned to ice.
Memories of the years spent with Lena flooded his mind, and he could hardly believe that she had truly left him so resolutely. He felt his heart pounding painfully within his chest, realizing that the anguish of regret could cut deeper than any blade.
Sierra’s next words drove the knife deeper:
“She left you a message.”
She slid a single sheet of paper across the table.
Five words, written in a hand steadier than stone:
“Don’t come and find me.”
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