68
Bethany's POV
If heartbreak were a sport, I'd be the reigning world champion. Mason would be the ruthless coach yelling from the sidelines, and Adrian—Adrian would be the quiet spectator cheering me on from the shadows, offering a bottle of water and an encouraging smile when I was ready to collapse.
In short, my life had turned into a melodramatic soap opera with a werewolf twist.
Mason had made it his mission to micromanage my existence, dictating everything from what I wore to where I sat during pack meetings. Meanwhile, Adrian had become the illicit escape hatch I wasn't supposed to reach for but couldn't seem to resist.
Fleeting glances across the room, our hands brushing each other when no one was watching and the daily notes he sent to me through birds or sliding under my door. But today it had a time and location with it.