Ex Begs Back—After Letting Another Wolf Claim My Kid

I’ve spent years as the Blake pack’s punching bag—all because of a lie about my dad. Veronica, the she-wolf I once loved, the mother of my little Ivy, spat on me daily. “You’re a rogue,” she’d snarl, slamming me into walls. “Ivy will never know you’re her father.” Preston, that snake, made it worse. He paid thugs to beat me, whispered lies to turn the pack against me. But when Veronica locked me in a basement with rabid dogs? That’s when I knew I had to die—or fake it. I chose the latter. Now I’m free. Camille’s in my arms, our daughter Lila clinging to my leg, her laugh brighter than the moon. But Veronica found me. “Owen, I love you,” she sobbed, dragging me to a binding ceremony. I stared at Camille, at Lila’s sleeping face. “Some wounds don’t heal, pup.”

Oleh Daniel