Leila's POV:
Night had fallen, casting long shadows over the packhouse. The air felt heavy, as if the very walls were closing in on me. I sat on the edge of the bed in the room that Drake and I once shared, my hands trembling as I wiped away the last of my tears. How had it come to this? How had I gone from feeling safe in my mate's arms to being treated like an outcast, accused of trying to kill an innocent child?
I heard footsteps outside the door, my heart skipping a beat. I wasn't sure if I was ready for this. I hadn't seen Drake since Lucas had locked me in here, and the thought of facing him again filled me with dread. Would he even listen to me? Would he even care?
The door creaked open slowly, and Drake stepped inside. His presence filled the room, his broad shoulders hunched with tension. For a moment, our eyes met, and I saw the pain in his gaze, the doubt that lingered between us like an insurmountable wall.
