LOGINMy pace slowed.I was close.The grove opened ahead of me, circular and impossibly quiet. The ground was covered in dead moss. Stones lined the perimeter, carved with symbols so ancient they seemed to hum.And in the center, she stood.The dark priestess.Tall. Shrouded in a veil of black. Skin like
CASSANDRADerek knows.The thought pounded in my head like a war drum, louder than the creaking floorboards beneath my feet as I stumbled back inside my cottage. I couldn’t breathe. My skin was ice. I gripped the edge of the counter like the world might slide out from under me if I let go.He knows.
"As a matter of fact," I said slowly, "it was."She nodded. "That was from one of my favorite shirts. My mother was furious when she saw that I’d torn a piece from it."The air went out of my lungs.Her favorite shirt.I blinked, trying to picture that day clearly. Cassandra had been there—that much
DEREKI didn’t move.Didn’t nod. Didn’t speak.I just stood there, letting her see it in my face. Because yeah—it was me.Every call, every closed-door meeting, every favor I cashed in to fast-track the permits they needed before anyone could find a reason to stall or block it. I’d done all of it. Q
DEREKThe crowd had already begun to gather when I arrived.The courtyard in front of the new Rogue Foundation was cordoned off with velvet rope and lined with silver-and-navy banners. The city's emblem flew alongside Moonstone’s and Red Ridge’s on tall flagpoles, and a heavy length of ribbon stretc
DEREKThe growl of the four-wheeler under me did nothing to quiet the growl inside my chest.I’d been patrolling for hours.The wind whipped against my jacket, tugging at the collar as I tore down another ridgeline, the sun low and angry behind me. Dust kicked up behind the tires in plumes. My hands
AIDENThe kitchen was too clean.Shiny black counters. A spotless chrome sink. Not a crumb on the floor or a single dish in the drying rack.It didn’t feel like a kitchen anyone actually used. More like something from a magazine.Aiden sat stiffly on one of the bar stools, feet not quite touching th
AIDENThe metal was colder than he expected.Aiden crawled forward on his elbows and knees, trying not to let the duct rattle too much beneath him. The air inside smelled like dust and old hotel rooms—mixed with the chlorine still clinging to his skin from the pool.That was probably good. He didn’t
ELENAThe villa looked like something out of a travel magazine—terracotta tiles, palm fronds swaying gently in the salt-heavy breeze, a glittering private pool framed by limestone and lush tropical blooms.It sat on the very edge of the resort property, past the winding golf cart trails and through
DEREKSomething was wrong.Aiden hadn’t come down the slide.I was already halfway to the base of the water slide when the thought hit me like a punch to the gut. My eyes scanned the splash pool—half a dozen children flailing joyfully in the turquoise water—but none of them were mine.No copper curl







