The sound of footsteps behind me pulled me from my thoughts. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Killian’s scent reached me before his soft voice did.
“Tabitha... I just wanted to see if you were okay.”
I didn’t answer right away, keeping my gaze fixed on my father’s grave. The pain in my chest tightened, anger bubbling up from the sorrow. “What do you think, Killian? Does it look like I’m okay?”
He just stood there. His presence was a reminder of everything I wasn’t ready for. The mate bond between us had been established the moment I turned eighteen, but even now, it felt wrong. Forced. I had spent years trying to accept it, trying to accept him. But every time I looked at Killian, all I saw was my failure. My father’s death had only made it worse.
“I know you’re hurting, but—”
“Hurting?” I laughed bitterly, finally turning to face him. “My father is dead, Killian. I’m supposed to take his place, lead this pack, and I’m mated to someone no one respects. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”
His face fell, and for a moment, guilt twisted in my stomach. But then I remembered the eyes of the pack on me, the whispers I’d heard just before the funeral.