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"Five years after my mate and best friend “died,” I accidenta11y ran into their daughter. They’ve become a happy family of three. And I’m dying of depression." " A year after my fiancé Ethan Evans died, my best friend Sophia died too. Both of them left me on my birthday. They used to call me princess. After they were gone, people started calling me something else, the Mourning Princess. The gir1 who got the people she loved killed. For five years, I blamed myself. If I had never celebrated a birthday, if I had just disappeared that day, would they still be alive? The question pressed down on my ch//est like a stone. It never let me breathe. Everything changed the day I went to register my niece for school. Outside the crowded office window, I saw a man. The set of his shoulders. The way he tilted his head. I svcked in a breath and the world spun sideways. It couldn’t be. It was Ethan. I shoved through the crowd, my he@rt slamming against my ribs like a wild bird. He was crouched on the sidewalk, eye level with a little gir1. “Grace Sophia Evans,” he said, voice low. “You sent another kid to the nurse’s office today. One more time and no snacks for a week. Got it?” The gir1 had wild black curls and glittering eyes. She stuck out her tongue. “D@ddy, you’re so mean! He started it! He was bullying that omega pup! Somebody had to do something!” D@ddy? Grace Sophia Evans? The ground felt unsteady beneath my feet. The air turned thin and sharp. They weren’t dead. He wasn’t dead. And he had a child. With her. “Aunt Zoe! What’s wrong?” My niece’s voice cvt through the roaring in my ears. Ethan turned around. Time stopped. His teasing scold, the bustling street, the child, all of it blurred. His scent hit me like a blow, waking a bond I thought death had severed long ago. He rose slowly and took a step toward me. “Princess,” he said. “You’re earlier than I expected.” His casual admission stole the air from my lungs. I forced back the tears bvrning my eyes. “How long?” “H
