LOGINEMBER’S POVNathaniel nods. “Logan was hunting for ammunition during the trial, and maybe far before they made it known. He kept circling the night Celeste died, perhaps in a bid to use her case against Knox. But I believe he stumbled on something else. Something larger that no effort of my cover-up could completely erase. I’d documented a rogue attack in papers in case questions were ever asked, but there isn’t enough that can be done when you are hiding the gruesome death of over 60 people. He had sources who could easily confirm it. He was getting close.” Nathaniel draws a line on the board: FLASH DRIVE with an arrow pointing to LOGAN. “I calculated that if I gave him something scandalous enough to feel like a victory, something that would damage the trial, but not be disastrous enough to destroy Knox’s reign, Logan would stop digging. The recording of Knox and Ember’s original arrangement was embarrassing, damaging to the trial, but survivable. The flash drive is not survivable.”
EMBER’S POV“But… It’s been ten years.” I swallow. “Have they… Did they ever come looking?”“Not yet. Which means either they don’t know she’s dead, or they know and they’re biding their time. That’s one of the reasons the cover-up had to be absolute. If the eastern packs discovered that the Lycan King killed one of their own, even in a feral episode, even without intent, I fear what might befall us.”“The eastern packs,” I repeat slowly. “You keep saying that like I should know what it means. I don’t. What are we actually talking about here?”Knox answers before Nathaniel can. His voice is low, flat, and drained of everything except the severity of the information itself.“The Great East. The oldest wolf bloodlines in existence. They ruled before councils existed, before territories were drawn, before any of the structures we operate under were even conceived. They don’t follow North American pack law because they predate it by centuries. They have their own governance, their own mil
EMBER’S POVNathaniel writes on the whiteboard. Two words at the top, in capital letters: CELESTE’S NIGHT.“It was Christmas Eve.” His voice is mostly firm, but there’s a shakiness running through it that I can hear from across the room. “You and Celeste hosted a gathering at the Greenvale estate every year. It was an open house. Pack members, allies, friends, family, business associates. Everyone was invited. Celeste loved Christmas more than anyone I’ve ever met. She decorated the whole estate herself; every bannister and window was strung with lights through the garden until the place looked like it was breathing gold. She’d invite everyone she’d ever smiled at.”“I remember that,” Knox says quietly. “I remember the decorations.”“That year, the guest list was around ninety. It was a sit-down dinner, full of exotic cocktails and music in the ballroom. Children chasing each other through the hallways while their parents drank mulled wine and pretended the world was kind. Staff workin
EMBER’S POVKnox sleeps like a man who hasn’t done it in years. Which, knowing him, might actually be the case.His face in my lap, one arm slung across my thighs, the other tucked under the pillow I wedged beside him around hour three because my leg was going numb and I refused to wake him for something as selfish as blood circulation. His breathing has been steady for six hours straight. He has had no nightmares or gold flickering behind his lids. And I have spent every minute of it memorising the architecture of his face without the armour on it.He looks younger asleep. The sharpness softens. The jaw unclenches. The permanent crease between his brows smooths out, and what’s left under is just a man, exhausted and bruised and trusting someone enough to close his eyes in a room with a door.I run my fingers through his hair one more time and lean down and press my lips to his temple and whisper, “Time to wake up, my love.”Nothing. The man sleeps like the dead.“Knox.”There come
Hi loves! Just a quick update — the next chapter is coming, I promise. I’m still working through it because the next few chapters carry some big revelations and major plot shifts, and I want to get everything right. But fear not — whatever’s coming, the worst is over for Knox and Ember.We’re heading into a new arc and possibly the final arc of this story, so I’m piecing together all the threads to make sure everything lands the way it should. I know it’s been about 48 hours since my last update and I appreciate your patience. In between working on Trading, I’ve also been writing a new story on the side — nothing too serious, just a fun little palate cleanser that’s mostly erotica. It’s been helping me balance out the emotional highs of Trading, and I’m having a blast writing it offline. It’s not out yet, but I hope you’ll love it when it does drop. For now, please bear with me while I work out the next chapters. I’m aiming to have it up by Sunday or Monday at the latest. Thank you f
EMBER’S POV“Soon.”I frown. “Knox.”“Soon, Ember. I’m handling it.”“You JUST swore to love me. Openly. Without secrets. That was — what, four minutes ago? And you’re already doing the face.”“What face?”“The face where you know something and you’re deciding how much of it I’m allowed to hear. You’re not allowed to keep your little secrets anymore, Knox. We literally just had this conversation.”“But Ember, I don’t want to worry you. I’ve got everything under—”“Knox Volkov.”He sighs with a small eye roll and pecks my lips. “You’re so stubborn.”“Speak.”“Logan gave us a forty-eight hour ultimatum.” He says it with a dry, almost bored delivery, like he’s reporting the weather. “Return Gale or he starts the apocalypse. His words were more dramatic, but that’s the gist.”“What is that supposed to mean? What apocalypse?”“He has a flash drive. He says it contains the truth about what happened the night Celeste died.” Knox’s jaw tightens but his voice stays even. “He’s promised to rele
EMBER’S POV“Your Majesty.” Harrison rises as we approach, inclining his head in a bow that manages to be respectful without being servile. “Thank you for accepting my invitation. I trust the drive was pleasant?”“Crawford.” Knox’s voice is flat. “Let’s skip the pleasantries.”“Straight to business
EMBER’S POVMy mother stands in the doorway, draped in designer everything as always.A silk dress in garish emerald that probably cost more than she can actually afford. Jewelry dripping from her neck, her ears, her wrists, every piece fighting for attention.Hair and makeup done to perfection, no
EMBER’S POVThe crowd murmurs agreement, curiosity rippling through the room.Knox extends his hand toward me.“Ember. Come here.”Every eye in the ballroom turns to me.My legs feel like they’re made of water. My heart is trying to escape through my ribcage.But Knox is waiting, his hand outstretc
EMBER’S POVThe mattress dips sometime after three in the morning.I’ve been lying here for hours, staring at the ceiling, my mind running circles around the photo of Queenie still burning a hole in my phone.Sleep feels impossible. Every time I close my eyes, I see Rayana bleeding on the marble. S







