Chapter 275. Depth of Her Sorrow

Aurora’s POV

I watched as Mary broke down again, her sobs wrenching through the walls of the room like a storm that wouldn’t pass. Her mate—tall, steady, but visibly shaking inside—was trying to hold her, whispering soft reassurances that barely held any ground beneath the weight of her anguish.

Her fingers clutched at his shirt as if she’d drown without the anchor of his presence, and even then, she was already slipping. I stood there for a few long seconds, heart heavy, my own breathing shallow with guilt. The grief in this room was too big to ignore, too loud to pretend I didn’t hear it echoing through every fiber of my being.

Without thinking much, I walked forward, my steps slow, deliberate. My knees met the cold floor in front of Mary, and I bowed my head low, my voice trembling as I spoke.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, not even sure if she could hear me through the pain. “Mary… I am so sorry. For everything. For not getting there in time. For not be