Chapter Forty Two

The night felt too still.

The kind of stillness that pressed against your chest and made every breath feel heavier than it should. The pack house had quieted, lanterns dimmed, corridors hushed as though the walls themselves were holding their breath. Kristen had gone on border patrol not long ago—his sharp commands and presence lingering in the air like a shadow—and with him gone, my thoughts began to itch.

I told myself not to do it. Over and over, I repeated the words like a chant.

"Don’t go. Don’t be stupid. Don’t risk everything for someone who tried to kill Kristen."

And yet my feet wouldn’t stay still. My heart wouldn’t quiet.

Rick.

His name haunted me, sharper than any blade. He and Knox weren’t assassins, not to me. They were family, or at least the closest thing I had to it in the rogue camp. We had shared scraps of bread under a freezing sky, huddled around dying fires, whispering promises of survival. When everyone else treated me like an outsider, they had looked out for m