Then, his voice broke the silence.
“No,” he growled.
“I can’t return to the pack until she’s mine. I want her as my mate. Gwyneth is everything I want for the Grey Wind Pack.”
My breath caught in my throat. The Grey Wind Pack? Did that mean Gareth was my former betrothed whom I had never met. Was he the one who rejected me publicly after my mother’s funeral, calling me unworthy of his blood?
A tear slipped down my cheek in horror. He had been beside me all this time, wearing a new name, a new face …
And I had let him in like a lamb walking to the slaughter.
“I am only here for Gwyneth,” he said again.
“I always was. Freya? Still throwing herself at me like a dog in heat. You think I would waste three years on her if she wasn’t useful?”
My chest tightened painfully.
“She’s lonely. That makes her easy. Always trying to tempt me with those clothes … like some cheap woman.”
I couldn’t breathe. My legs barely held me up.
Three years...
Three years I let him into every part of my life.
From my plans, my fears, even to my mother’s ashes. I thought he was emotionless, untouched by beauty or status. But all along … Gareth had been chasing Gwyneth.