He closed his eyes briefly and mind-linked Ricardo.
I want Sofía's entire life record. Every detail. Now.
The link severed, and his gaze returned to her.
The longer he stared at those scars, the more the urge to burn the entire world down took hold of him.
He wasn't the first werewolf she had encountered.
Someone else had found her first.
Someone who had tried to kill her.
It was a miracle she had survived that attack. The wounds should have been fatal—but she had lived.
His mate was far stronger than he had ever imagined.
A fighter.
A lone one.
Pain crushed his chest, so sharp it stole his breath. As the rage ebbed, something far more dangerous took its place.
Emotion.
His vision blurred.
When he felt moisture trail down his cheek, he lifted his hand absently only to stare at the tear glistening on his fingertip.
He was crying.
For the first time in his life.
For his doll.
She had been hurting. For years. Carrying it alone. Silent.
He couldn't breathe.
