Page 101 of Broken Wolf Heart
Then something catches my eye from above. I look up.
And freeze.
A shadow on the balcony.
Tall. Golden. Familiar.
My heart stutters.
Ramsey.
The hallucination hits so hard I have to grip the edge of the pew in front of me.
It can’t be.
He wouldn’t be this stupid.
And yet, for that heartbeat, I see him clearly. That casual slouch. That smirk. A flex of his muscles as he presses his fist into his palm in a silent promise.
I blink.
The spot is empty.
The mirage of my former packmate gone as quickly as it came.
Maybe it was nothing.
Maybe it was everything.
My chest aches. Not from rage this time. From grief.
He was my brother. Maybe not by blood, but in all the ways that mattered. I miss him.
Even now.
But thanks to his betrayal, loyalty has never meant more than it does today.
The priest calls everyone to their seats.
Lexi makes her way down the aisle to where I wait at the front. I take her hand in mine, refusing to look at the balcony again. Instead, I walk across the aisle and drop a kiss on mymother’s cheek. Squeeze her shoulder in a silent hello. She gives me a forced smile from where she sits beside my father.
“I love you,” I whisper in her ear.
She doesn’t respond, and my father doesn’t so much as blink.
Lexi steps up behind me and takes her hand, offers a quick smile of her own, then steps back again. We take our seats across the aisle from them. My pack and hers fill in behind us.
When everyone is seated, the priest speaks. Something about legacy. About Franco. About the man who built an empire. I don’t let myself hear it, not really. If I did, I’d likely lose it. Nothing about Franco’s legacy is worth keeping—or honoring, for that matter. But apparently, we’re going to pretend otherwise for one more day.
When the priest is finished, he nods at the first guest speaker, and my father stands.
I tense.
He walks slowly up the aisle, face somber. Controlled. Every step calculated to draw the eye.
He mounts the stage like a fucking politician.
The crowd quiets.
