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PROLOGUE

5 YEARS AGO

LAUREL

I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped into the chapel, out of the blazing sun. My dress was completely stuck to my back, and I unstuck it with a grimace as I sank into one of the pews. It smelled like warm wood and incense in here, a combination that sent me back to memories of the far past, of being in this chapel for my mother and pack fathers’ funeral.

Staff hurried around, setting up flowers or adjusting seating, but I didn’t get more than a few pitying glances. At least they were quiet. The people outside had given me the same looks, but they had whispered as well.

What a troubled soul, poor thing. At least he’s at rest now.

Such a tragedy.

Who could have imagined he was so disturbed?

They were wrong. All of them were wrong.

My hands were clenched tightly on my lap as the tears threatened to spill over again. I knew my brother, and he’d never do something like this.

At least, I thought I had known him.

But when he’d become an alpha, he’d changed so much. I hadn’t heard him laugh in months, and his former cocky grin had been replaced by a blank mask.

But we’d had plans. And he would never abandon me to my father, no matter how bad things got.

“Right?” I whispered.

A quiet settled around me, and I looked up to find the room empty. I fingered the lipstick in my pocket, torn over whether I should follow through with my plan, but this was the only chance I would get.

I stood, quickly crossing the room until I was standing in front of the casket, my heart pounding.

Julius—what was left of him—was inside. Due to the nature of his death, it was a closed-casket funeral.

He’d had to hide who he truly was his whole life, and now he’d been hidden in death.

That’s why it didn’t make sense. Even if he’d been miserable, we had planned to escape.

He’d dreamed of having his moment

Of walking out of the door in heels and makeup, to let the world meet the real Jule.

Instead, we’d only had stolen moments hidden away from our father.

I trailed my fingers along the smooth wood, focusing on those memories.

Jule had loved me.

No matter what had happened in the last few months, I had to believe the years before that were real. And I’d failed him.

He’d withdrawn, he’d been hurting and alone, and I hadn’t been enough to help him.

I had been so sure he was strong.

So sure that killing himself was something he’d never do.

I took the lipstick out of my pocket, glancing around tomake sure I was alone. This shade of red—Unbreakable—had been his favourite. I needed to give it to him, to make sure at least one real part of him was buried with his body.

Let him know that someone had loved all of him.