Juliet’s
POV
I was silent for a long time.
So long that Marcus must have thought I’d hung up
“Luna Juliet? Are you still there?”
“I understand,” I finally said. “Send me the address.”
After hanging up, I sat at my desk, lost in thought.
Strangely, when I reached for my memories of Cullen, there was no warmth
It was like trying to remember the heat of a fire after being burned to the bone.
There was nothing left but the scar
At the Black Store pack’s private hospital, Cullen lay in a bed in the VIP ward.
Stripped of his power, of his Alpha aura, he looked small Just a dying man in a bed.
“Juliet,” he said, opening his eyes. His voice was as faint as a whisper. “You came.”
I sat in the chair beside his bed. “The doctors said you’re not doing well.”
“I know.” He struggled to turn his head to look at me. I’m dying, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” I said, not lying. “You have a few hours at most.”
He gave a bitter smile.
“Juliet, I’ve been thinking a lot,” he said with great effort. “All my life, I was obsessed with power. I was suspicious of
everyone.”
“I thought control was love. I thought possession was everything.”
“But I was wrong. Completely wrong.”
