GENEVA’S POV

My world was crashing, and there was nothing to hold on to. I want to cling to Zion’s shirt and shake some sense into him. I want to yell in his face for him to shut his mouth. I want to stop him from spouting rubbish and tell him not to say lies about people he didn’t know.

It had to be fake, lies, an effort to make himself look good. He didn’t want people to know he kept a feral wolf, so he was putting the blame on somebody he hated, and that was my dad. Why would Dad ...