He admitted to himself, bitterly, that maybe she deserved happiness after all the grief and sacrifice her life had demanded. But didn't he? Didn't he deserve even a sliver of it, after everything he'd endured. Or was he doomed due to the blood his hands were stained with?
Eric leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes. Letting the silence take him, letting the ache press into his chest.
When the wrought-iron gates of the Duvall estate creaked open, the car rolled over the gravel drive until it came to a smooth stop. Delilah stepped out first, smoothing her dress as the cool air brushed her skin. Eric followed a second later. He looked every inch the Alpha even in his distraction.
Broad shoulders wrapped in a dark coat, tall frame tense with unspent emotion, dark hair slightly tousled by the wind. Yet his eyes were distant, clouded, haunted.
"Would you like to come in for some tea?" Delilah asked, fingers curling nervously around her purse strap.
