To stay by Hazel Ashford's side, he was willing to gamble with his own life.
In that moment, I didn't even know whether to marvel at the madness of that devotion or grieve for how pathetic my own years of giving had been.
On the third day, I received a call from the Pack Infirmary.
"Miss Ashvale, the remains you placed in cold storage at the facility have exceeded the holding period. Please come to collect them at your earliest convenience."
The word remains made my eyes burn red instantly.
Of course. To them, it was nothing more than a pair of lost pups. Nothing more than an item filed under a number.
The pain of that day still seemed to echo through my body. I pressed my emotions down hard and answered in a low voice, "All right. I'll come now."
After I ended the call, I went to the infirmary immediately.
I had planned to go straight to the cold-storage vault, but as I passed through the recovery ward, I caught sight of Sylvia Nightfang by accident.
The pack healer stood at his bedside, voice heavy. "I'm sorry, Mr. Nightfang. The crash caused severe damage to your left wrist. I'm afraid you won't be able to race again."