LOGINIvy is screaming behind me."—trying to trap you! She's a liar! She's been lying to all of us!""Ivy." I turn. My voice is hoarse. "Ivy, stop."She doesn't stop. She's on her knees in the middle of the living room, surrounded by Raylynn's scattered belongings. The pregnancy tests are on the floor. The box is crushed. One of the tests is broken."She's a slut!" Ivy's voice cracks. "She's a manipulative, lying slut who's been sleeping with you behind my back!""The tests were negative.""I don't believe you!""I don't care what you believe. They were negative. She's not pregnant."Ivy stares at me. Her face is a mess—tears, snot, mascara running down her cheeks. She looks like a child. A broken, furious child."Then why did she have them?" she demands. "Why was she taking pregnancy tests if she wasn't trying to trap you?""Because she missed her period. Because she was scared. Because—" I stop. I don't owe her an explanation. But she's my daughter. She deserves something."Because she t
I'm walking away from Ivy's room when I hear Zephyr's footsteps behind me."Raylynn. Raylynn, wait."I don't stop. I can't stop. If I stop, I'll fall apart. If I stop, I'll scream. If I stop, I'll do something I regret."Raylynn, please."His hand catches my arm. I pull away."Don't." My voice is raw. "Don't touch me."He flinches. I've never seen him flinch before. But I don't care. I can't care."I'm sorry," he says. "I'm so sorry.""For what? For bringing me here? For letting her throw that iPad at me? For not defending me?""I did defend you—""After." I turn to face him. "After she called me a slut. After she threw things at me. You defended me after.""I didn't know what to do.""She's your daughter.""I know.""She hates me.""She doesn't—""She does." My voice breaks. "She hates me. And I don't blame her."He reaches for me again. This time, I let him. I let him pull me into his arms. I let him hold me. But I don't feel anything. I'm numb."I love you," he whispers.The words l
"Pick up. Pick up. Pick up."The words tumble out of me like a prayer I don't believe in. I press the phone harder against my ear, as if that will make her answer faster. The road blurs past—dark trees, dark sky, dark everything—and I don't care about speed limits or traffic laws or anything except getting to her.The phone rings again. And again."Fuck!" I slam my hand against the steering wheel. The horn blares. I press redial. It rings. Voicemail."Raylynn, it's me. I'm on my way. Just—" I stop. What do I say? What can I say that will make any of this better? "Just stay there. I'll be there soon."I hang up. I press the gas pedal harder.My wolf is pacing, growling, frantic. He can feel my anxiety, my fear, my desperation. He wants to shift, wants to run, wants to tear through the night until we find her. But I can't. I'm too far. Too slow. Too useless.'You left her alone,' my wolf snarls. 'You let her go alone.''I know.''She needed us. She needed us and we weren't there.''I kn
I stand in the hallway, my back against the wall, my hand pressed to my mouth.My mother. Attacked. In prison. Asking for me.The words echo in my head, over and over, like a drumbeat I can't escape. I need to go. I need to see her. But my legs won't move. My body won't cooperate.She's asking for her daughter.I think about the last time I saw her. The ring she gave me. The way she looked at me like she was trying to memorize my face. The words she said—there are things you need to know.What if she doesn't get the chance to tell me?What if I lose her before I even know the truth?I push off the wall. I start walking. I don't know where I'm going—I just know I can't stand still."Raylynn?"Zephyr's voice stops me. I turn. He's standing at the end of the hallway, his face lit up with a smile I haven't seen in days. The smile of a father whose daughter just woke up."Ivy's awake," he says, crossing to me. "She's talking. She's asking for water. The doctors say she's going to be okay."
Another cramp. Harder this time. I double over again, clutching my stomach.And then I feel it.A warmth. Spreading. Wet.I look down.Blood.The blood is bright red against my fingers.I stare at it. I can't move. I can't breathe. The world narrows to this single point of horror, this single moment of understanding.I missed my period. And I'm bleeding."No," I whisper. "No, no, no—"I grab my bag. I don't think. I just move. Out the door. Down the stairs. Onto the street.The pharmacy is two blocks away. I run. My legs are shaking. My heart is pounding. Every step sends a fresh wave of fear through me.Please. Please let me be wrong. Please let it be nothing.I burst through the pharmacy doors. The fluorescent lights are too bright. The aisles are too long. An old man with a cane shuffles past me, taking forever, and I want to scream at him to move. I don't. I push past him and find what I need—two different tests, because one isn't enough, because I need to be sure.The cashier look
The flatline is the loudest sound I've ever heard.It cuts through everything—the beeping, the shouting, the pounding of my own heart. It fills the room, fills my head, fills every space where hope used to live. And all I can do is stand there, frozen, watching them work on her."Charging to two hundred.""Clear!"Ivy's body jerks off the bed. Falls back. Nothing."Again. Charging to three hundred.""Clear!"She doesn't move.Zephyr's hand finds mine. Squeezes so hard I feel my bones grind together. Neither of us breathes. Neither of us speaks. We just watch."Come on, Ivy," one of the nurses mutters. "Come on, sweetheart.""Charging to three sixty. Clear!"Her body arches.And then—A beep.A single, beautiful, impossible beep.The monitor flickers. Finds a rhythm. Holds it."She's back," the doctor breathes. "She's back."I collapse.My legs give out and I hit the floor and I'm crying, sobbing, gasping for air. Zephyr is beside me in an instant, his arms around me, pulling me against







