Carmen stepped back instinctively, moving to stand protectively behind Riley.
“I don’t like eggs,” she said calmly, her voice t.
Based on the past, Carmen knew Riley would usually respond gently–perhaps ask what she’d prefer to eat instead.
But Riley only said, “They’re in the fridge.”
A short answer. But itnded like a stone in Carmen’s heart.
Finished
There was no warmth in it–only detachment. And it confirmed Carmen’s deepest suspicion: Riley couldn’t hear her. She hadn’t truly responded–she had read her lips.
Her hearing was gone.
Carmen’s chest tightened with a surge of pain. If Riley had lost her hearing, it must’ve happened in prison… and Carmen couldn’t imagine what kind of hell she must have endured inside.
Her fists clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms. Rage boiled in her blood like wildfire.
Those who had hurt Riley—Kael Vale, Maddox, the rest of the Ebonw Pack—they didn’t deserve mercy. They deserved to
burn.
Still holding her fury beneath the surface, Carmen moved to the fridge, retrieved some eggs, and set to work. The skillet hissed and crackled as the eggs hit the pan, releasing a rich aroma that soon filled the air.
Behind her, Riley carefullydled thick, fragrant congee into a ceramic bowl. Her steps were quiet, but Carmen noticed the limp–Riley’s gait was uneven, each movement a subtle wince.
It was like watching someone tread barefoot over broken ss. Every step made Carmen’s chest ache deeper.
Then-
A shriek shattered the quiet. “You filthy bitch! What are you doing here?!”
The next instant, the ceramic bowl slipped from Riley’s hands, crashing to the floor in a stter of hot porridge and shards.
Riley gasped, stumbling back.
Carmen rushed from the kitchen, <b>eggs </b>still in hand, and what she <b>saw </b>ignited her fury.
A heavily made–up woman–her <b>face </b>twisted in hatred–<b>was </b>lunging toward Riley with <b>her </b>hand raised.
The porridge had sshed across Riley’s wrist, leaving red scald marks. The pain etched across her face broke something in
Carmen.
And then–she snapped.
Carmenunched forward with speed only a she–wolf could possess. With the sizzling egg still hot from the pan, she mmed it against the woman’s powdered <b>face</b>.
A scream tore from the woman’s throat–shrill, feral, filled with disbelief.
Boiling yolk and oil dripped down her cheeks, melting her makeup into grotesque smears.
The woman staggered back, wing at her <b>face</b><b>. </b>Carmen didn’t stop. <b>She </b>surged forward, grabbed a fistful of dyed hair, and drove her knee into the woman’s ribs with deadly precision.
The woman copsed to her knees with a thud
Carmen’s grip tightened. She forced the woman’s face into the ruined congee and shattered porcin on the floor, grinding her down until the scent of blood filled the air.
3:55 PM P P.
The floor beneath her reeked of dominance, violence, justice.
Finished
The woman screamed, cursed, iled—but Carmen’s stance was unmovable, her wolf raging beneath her skin, demanding retribution.
“Touch her again,” she growled low, voiceced with venom, “and you’ll be dining through a straw for the rest of your pathetic life.”
Behind her, a man finally recovered from the shock. With fury in his eyes, he lifted a foot, aiming to kick Carmen off.
But Riley moved first.
Despite her pain, she stepped between them, raising her arm like a shield. Her voice rang out sharp andmanding: “Alpha Duskcliff–this is the Duskgrave estate. Not your territory.”
The man froze. His eyes burned as he stared at Riley like she was a ghost risen from his deepest nightmares.
This was Ronan Duskcliff’s father.
He and his mate had just returned from their overseas tripst night–only to learn that Lucien had thrown their beloved son into prison.
It was a humiliation they couldn’t swallow.
They had rushed here at dawn, hoping to plead with Lucien for mercy.
But thest person they expected to see… was Riley.
The name alone was a wound.
She had turned their daughter, Tessa, into a vegetable. And now, she was free.
During her five years in prison, they had sent pack members to torment her, hoping to break her spirit.
Yet here she stood. Alive. Defiant.
And their daughter’s blood was still on her hands.
Mrs. Duskcliff had snapped the moment she saw Riley.
But she hadn’t expected Carmen.
A wild wolf with fire in her <b>eyes</b><b>. </b>
Now, the mighty Duskcliff matriarch knelt in a puddle <b>of </b>steaming porridge and blood, her pride shattered, her body trembling.
And Mr. Duskcliff’s murderous gaze bore into Riley<b>, </b><b>as </b>though trying to resurrect the past and bury her with it again.
But this time…. Riley didn’t lower her eyes.
This time… she <b>wasn’t </b>alone.
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