---- Chapter 18 JOSIE POV: The sound of the crash and my scream must have carried. Within seconds, Chris was bursting through my door, his Alpha senses on high alert. He took in the scene in an instant -me frozen in horror, Laurence bleeding out on my floor. He was at Laurence's side immediately, pressing his hands to the wound. The hiss of silver burning an Alpha's flesh filled the small apartment. "Call an ambulance!" he commanded, his voice steady despite the chaos. Laurence's eyes fluttered open, finding mine across the room. His lips moved, forming one last, desperate word before he passed out. "Forgive..." The hospital was a blur of sterile white walls and the antiseptic smell of dread. Chris stayed with me, a quiet, solid presence in the storm of my emotions. He held my hand while | trembled, his calm a stark contrast to the violent chaos Laurence had unleashed. "He'll live," Chris told me hours later, after the doctors had ---- stabilized him. "The blade was silver, but it missed his vital organs. It was... precise." And that's when it hit me. It wasn't a genuine act of suicidal despair. It was a calculation. A performance. He had stabbed himself just enough to cause maximum horror and guilt, but not enough to cause permanent damage. It was the ultimate act of manipulation, a way to chain me to him with pity and responsibility. The fear | felt curdled into a cold, hard knot of anger. He hadn't done it for me. He had done it to control me. | would never forgive him. The next afternoon, an unexpected visitor arrived at my apartment. It wasn't a doctor or a pack warrior. It was Madeline Andrews, Laurence's grandmother. She was the retired Luna of the Black Moon Pack, an elder whose wisdom was legendary. She stood at my door, her silver hair pulled back in an elegant bun, her eyes kind but filled with a deep sadness. She didn't ask to come in. She simply looked at me and said, "l am so sorry, Josie. For everything my family has put you through. There is no excuse for my grandson's foolishness, or for his cruelty." Her words broke through the dam | had built around my heart. All the pain, the humiliation, the grief for my father-it all came rushing out. | collapsed into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. | cried for the girl | used to be, the one who just wanted to be ---- loved. Madeline held me, stroking my hair as if | were her own grandchild. She didn't offer empty platitudes or make excuses. She just let me grieve. "You don't owe him anything," she whispered into my hair, her voice firm. "Not your pity, not your guilt, and certainly not your forgiveness. You go and live your life, my dear. Be the magnificent wolf the Goddess meant you to be. | will make sure he never bothers you again." In the arms of the woman whose family had caused me so much pain, | finally found a moment of true comfort and support.