ELENAI stared at the vent.The tiny square opening near the ceiling still hung slightly ajar, just like it had when Aiden disappeared inside. I hadn’t moved since.Every muscle in my body ached from sitting so still, but I didn’t dare shift. If I moved, if I looked up too long, if I gave any sign t
ELENAThere were voices outside the door.Not the usual lazy pacing of a bored guard. These were deeper. Sharper. Intent.My heart dropped into my stomach.They were coming.I pressed myself to the wall beneath the vent, arms locked around my knees. The blanket I’d balled up to make it look like Aid
They didn’t ask me to stand beside him.They didn’t put me in the frame.My chest tightened.This was about him.Only him.What did that mean for me?Before I could think too hard about it, I heard the familiar, measured footsteps echoing down the hall.Pierce.He strolled toward us like he was arri
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
ELENAMy knuckles still stung.The taste of blood hung in the air—his, not mine—and the man I’d clocked in the mouth earlier had stalked off in a fit of pique. Probably to get backup.If I wanted to make my move, now was the time.The other one, the taller rogue with the cold eyes, was still watchin
I caught Pierce’s next punch, twisted his arm behind his back, and slammed him to the floor with enough force to rattle the bones in both our bodies.“You leading the rogue factions now?” I shouted, my voice like gravel and fire. “You attacking peaceful packs? Families?”He laughed.Actually laughed
ELENA“Where’s Aiden?!”The question ripped from my throat, wild and raw. It wasn’t a question, really. It was a scream. A plea. A command wrapped in terror.My voice echoed across the wreckage of the room—the overturned furniture, the broken glass, through the blood that still hovered in a haze ove
And there—down the shore, maybe twenty yards away—Aiden.He was being dragged.His heels left thick, broken trails through the sand, carving desperate lines that told me he’d tried to fight. His arms were wrenched behind his back, his small fists clenched.His hoodie—his favorite one, the one he sa
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