I stared at Rhys, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing—the deep scars etched across his back, the evidence of pain I never knew he carried. The sight left me speechless. All this time, while I'd been rebuilding myself from the ashes he'd created, he'd been suffering too.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this," I finally whispered, my voice barely audible in the quiet room. "You were the one who rejected me. You shouldn't have scars."
Rhys turned to face me fully, his eyes filled with a vulnerability I'd never seen in him before. "I know. The healers couldn't explain it either. My father brought in specialists from three different packs, but no one had ever seen an Alpha scarred from rejecting his mate."
"Why are you telling me this now?" I asked, wrapping my arms around myself protectively.
