Addison was born and raised as the heir apparent, groomed from an early age to rule. Her grace, strength, and quiet authority had been ingrained in her bones. Even with amnesia, even if she'd forgotten who she was, her instincts—those sharp, regal instincts—should have remained. They would have shown, even in moments of vulnerability or when she didn't even try.
And that woman?
That woman riding atop the wolf?
She had none of it.
Even Zion, for all his control and stoicism, had questioned Addison's identity more than once because of how her upbringing would often peek in when she was supposed to be an Omega, which didn't make sense. Yet somehow, he always convinced himself she was just a discarded, wolfless Omega—too broken to remember her past. He never asked the questions he should have.
Just because... he didn't want to dwell on it.
Now that the suspicion had taken root, Lance couldn't shake it off.
