I Haunted the Alpha Who Let Me Die

There is a bomb strapped to my chest, and my mate is worried about a wolf in a tree.

Sorrel Ashby makes maps for a living. She has always known exactly where she stands — except in her own marriage. For two years her mate, Rourke Calder, patrol chief of the Duskmoor Pack, has dropped everything the moment his brother's widow, Celia, calls. So when a rogue straps a wolfsbane bomb to Sorrel's chest and she begs Rourke for help, he calls her jealous and hangs up to rescue Celia's snow wolf from a pine tree it isn't even stuck in.

With four minutes left, Sorrel severs the bond herself. Then the world goes white.

But death doesn't set her free. Her soul wakes chained to the man who let her die, forced to watch him call her remains "a female Omega, twenty to thirty" and move on. Forced to hear the healer say she was two months pregnant. And forced, from the rafters, to finally see the pattern she missed while alive: every broken promise, every stormy night, every emergency drawn by one careful hand.

Sorrel can't speak. She can barely move a bracelet. But she was always good at maps, and she has all the time in the world to draw the truth, piece by piece, until the man who never looked at her is finally forced to see.

A heart that's been shattered can't be pieced back together. But a ghost can still make sure the truth comes out.