DEREKThe air was too still.I sat in the backseat of the SUV, my fingers drumming absently on the leather armrest, eyes fixed on the tree line rolling past the window. Too quiet. Too green. Too ordinary. The kind of quiet that gnawed at the back of your neck, whispering that something was wrong.Jo
ELENAWeddings were supposed to be joyful. Uplifting. Not nerve-wracking and vaguely horrifying.I adjusted Aiden’s little bow tie for the third time as he stood in the staging room just off the chapel’s main aisle, looking far too calm for someone about to be paraded in front of a hundred people. M
ELENAI couldn’t breathe.Dawn was grinning like she’d just won the lottery. Aiden was bouncing beside her, clapping like it was the best day of his life.And the bouquet?Firmly in my hands.The damn thing had sailed through the air like it had a tracker locked onto my scent and landed squarely aga
DEREKI could still feel her.It was maddening—how her scent clung to my skin like a phantom, how the weight of her hand in mine lingered long after the music stopped. Even now, in the still quiet of my bedroom, I could feel the way her fingers had curled instinctively around mine during that slow,
DEREKI straightened my tie in the mirrored window, adjusting the knot for the third time even though it hadn’t moved. The glass reflected a version of myself I recognized—groomed, composed, steady. But on the inside? I was coiled wire.Elena stood nearby, quiet, trying to keep her breathing steady.
CASSANDRAI sat curled up in one of the velvet chairs in my father’s study, legs tucked beneath me, the rim of my wine glass resting lightly against my bottom lip. The press conference played across the flat screen mounted above the fireplace, illuminating the room in hues of blue and gold.I twirle
“You leaked it,” he said.Not a question. A fact.I set the wine glass on the table beside me, forced a shrug, and leaned back in the chair, feigning nonchalance. “Honestly, it’s not like that secret was going to stay buried forever. So to speak.”“You could’ve gotten her killed,” he growled. “You c
DEREKThe press conference had only been two days ago, but it felt like a lifetime.I still hadn’t slept. Not really. Not in any way that counted.I’d crashed for a few hours on the couch in my office the night after—boots still on, half-dressed, a mostly full glass of whiskey sweating rings into my
I grew angrier the more I talked.“You gave me a heartbeat on a monitor and a false sense of fatherhood. And then, when you knew the walls were closing in, you faked a miscarriage to seal the story. You didn't just lie—you tried to break me.”Tears welled in her eyes, but I kept going.“I mourned a
DEREKThe cemetery was quiet.The kind of quiet that settled into your bones, that made your thoughts louder, your memories sharper.I stood alone, one hand tucked into my coat pocket, the other wrapped around the slim stem of a white chrysanthemum. It was early—too early for mourners or caretakers.
Amy’s voice was small now. “I believe so.”I set the glass down with a soft clink. “Pour the full glass.”She did.“Now decant the rest,” I said. “I’ve lost my appetite for food. But I’ll be staying to enjoy the bottle.”Amy said nothing. She bowed slightly and stepped away to fetch the decanter.Th
DEREKI didn’t stop for the cameras.They flared like tiny suns as I stepped out of the black SUV, their shutters clicking rapid-fire.Flashes bounced off the platinum buttons of my coat, off the trim of my collar, illuminating the sidewalk in sharp, artificial bursts. I walked straight through the
The temperature in the room shifted.Not dramatically, but enough. Like a subtle drop in pressure before a storm. Erin straightened, her laughter tapering. I smoothed the sample fabric in front of me and didn’t look up right away.“Hey,” Logan said casually. “What’s so funny?”Erin glanced at me. “J
ELENAThe Moonstone packhouse was a flurry of motion and color. Fabric swatches fluttered like flags in a breeze as pack members carried bolts of cloth up the stairs. Someone was arguing loudly in the hall about whether “frosted lilac” was different from “lavender fog,” and a delivery of beeswax can
ELENAThe metronome was ticking again.That steady, deliberate rhythm that Dr. Voss insisted helped center my recall—though half the time, I wasn’t sure if it helped or just made me hyper-aware of how fast my thoughts were spinning.I sat back in the reclined chair, palms resting against the fabric-
“A silver claw?”I nodded. “Yeah. The first. The only. It seared his flesh every time he used it. Every swing hurt. But he used it anyway.”“That sounds… awful.”“It was,” I said. “But he made that pain his purpose. Every battle, every fight he walked into—he carried the silver claw. And with it, he
DEREKThe room still smelled like fresh paint.The new bedding hadn’t quite lost its store scent either—crisp fabric, a little too new, the faint chemical undertone of being unboxed that morning.But it didn’t matter. Aiden was already halfway under the covers, head turned toward the window, blanket