She wasn't sure if it had anything to do with them being mates, but she found herself letting go of some of the anger, the bitterness she once held toward him.
Yet now, as they spoke about the past, the memories came flooding back. The grievances, the injustices, how Zion and his pack had treated her coldly and indifferently, how everyone seemed to take her for granted, she could feel that dull ache twisting in her chest again, sharp and persistent, like a knife lodged deep inside.
Zion could sense her mood slipping, her expression turning sour, but he didn't want to push her. He knew all too well that his cold indifference had hurt her far more deeply than any physical wound ever could.
And that wasn't the worst of it; he had defended another woman right in front of her, choosing to stand up for a fake princess while throwing cutting words at Addison, words he could never take back.
