FAZER LOGINEMBER’S POVQueenie doesn’t answer.I glance over and she’s staring at the dashboard and tears are sliding down her cheeks in two clean lines and her mouth is pressed shut and she’s not making a sound. She’s just sitting there, crying silently, and the silence is louder than anything she could have said because the answer is in the tears and the tears say no.I don’t push. I don’t fill the quiet with comfort or platitudes. I just let her cry, because sometimes that’s the kindest thing you can do.After a while, she wipes her face, exhales, and straightens her shoulders the way women do when they’re putting themselves back together in real time.“Well,” she says, her voice rough. “That was deeply unpleasant.”“Yeah.”“I’m going to need to think about some things.”“Yeah.”“But not right now. Right now I need to do something very stupid and very loud.”I pull the car to the shoulder, and the engine idles in the quiet.“Roll your window down,” I say.“It’s minus ten degrees, Ember.”“R
EMBER’S POVThe question lands in the car like a third passenger. I take my eyes off the road long enough to look at her and from her face, I can tell she is not fishing for reassurance or testing me. She’s asking because she genuinely doesn’t know the answer and the not knowing is eating her from the inside.“Queenie—”“I know he’s my fated mate. I know the Goddess paired us. I know all the texts and the traditions and the lore that says this bond is sacred and chosen and meant to be. But the Goddess didn’t sit in that room this morning and listen to my husband confess that he drugged his best friend’s coffee and engineered a woman’s death for research data.” Her hands are twisting in her lap, fingers pulling at each other. “How am I supposed to lie next to him tonight knowing what he’s capable of? How am I supposed to let him touch me and trust that the hands on my body belong to the man I married and not the man who stood in a monitoring station while sixty-three people died?”“I
EMBER’S POVI drive.It’s a small thing, maybe nothing to anyone watching, but my hands on the steering wheel feel like reclamation.For weeks, other people have driven me places. Knox carrying me through hallways, Nathaniel behind the wheel of getaway cars, Rafael’s guards hauling me through forests.I’ve been a passenger in every sense of the word, moved from location to location by men who decided where I needed to be and when I needed to be there. Today I drive.The Alaskan highway stretches flat and white and endless ahead of us, and Queenie is in the passenger seat with her hands folded in her lap and her eyes fixed on the treeline, as if the snow-covered pines hold a clever secret.We haven’t spoken since pulling away from the compound. Knox’s goodbye is still warm on my lips, and a silver bullet gun is in the glovebox because trouble, Knox reasoned, has a GPS lock on my location, and he’d rather I carry something lethal.I didn’t argue. He’s not entirely wrong. If Gale somehow
Hi, everyone! Good evening. Just a quick update — I’m a little slow with writing today because I’m dealing with the flu. I’ve taken meds, but they come with drowsiness and sleepiness as side effects. My head’s been hot and hurting, and I’m honestly just exhausted. I’m still working on the chapter though! Just slower than usual because I’m frankly out of it right now. Hopefully I can finish before the day is over and get it posted. Also — big news: I’m officially done with my day job! Which means way more writing time from here on out. So yay to that! Now, I saw someone ask how often I update. Updates are daily double/triple updates! But let me explain my workflow so you understand why there might be pauses sometimes. I write in marathons. I have ADHD, so when I hyperfixate and lock in, I get a LOT done — we’re talking 10 chapters in two or three days. Then I take a break until the next wave of focus hits. Usually that lines up perfectly with the scheduled chapters running out, so
EMBER’S POV“Absolutely not,” Knox says it casually. “Gale is an unrepentant, violent piece of shit who beat my woman for eight years and hasn’t shown a flicker of remorse. He’s not going anywhere except deeper into hell.” His thumb traces my thigh. “But Logan doesn’t need to know that. Logan needs to believe the trade is real long enough to hand over the flash drive. Once I have it, I take both of them. Logan joins Gale. They can spend the rest of their natural lives rotting together. Every true love story deserves a happy ending.”“And if he doesn’t take the bait?” Nathaniel asks.“Then we use brute force. Kill him if we have to. But he is not walking away alive with that flash drive.”I feel the logic of it settle into place. Smart. Clean. Gives Logan what he wants while neutralising the weapon.“Where IS Gale?” I ask.Knox’s hand tightens on my thigh.“Ember.”“Where is Gale, Knox?”A pause. “Your father’s house,” Knox says. “Maurice’s property. He’s been there the whole time. Gu
EMBER’S POVThe room goes quiet. Everyone is looking at me.“Rafael is only one part of it,” I say slowly. “If we go by everything Nathaniel just told us, the real danger was never Rafael. It’s the gene itself. Having Knox susceptible to it means he’s one bad day away from another episode. One drugging.” I look at Nathaniel, and the word lands exactly where I aim it. “One person cruel enough to weaponise his weakness against him. Or—” My voice catches. “Or if something ever went wrong with me. If we have a mature bond and I’m hurt, or taken, or killed, he could lose his mind entirely. The bond that’s supposed to cure him becomes the detonator instead. And that means—”“A new massacre,” Nathaniel supplies quietly. “Potentially worse than the first. A fully bonded Lycan without an anchor is exponentially more dangerous than an unbonded one. The bond supercharges every instinct. Including the feral ones.”Knox is quiet for a long time. His chest rises and falls against my back in measure
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 POVI slump back into my seat unconsciously, not realizing how rigidly I’d been holding myself until the tension drains away.Knox lifts our entwined hands to his lips and presses a kiss to my knuckles, his eyes on me.It slows the tightening in my chest. Loosens the knot that Harrison’s qu
EMBER’S POV“Because I saw you on the news.” His voice cracks again. “During a press conference. I saw you standing up there, speaking to the camera, saying five words they have haunted me every night. You are dead to me. And though it wasn’t directed at me, I felt it so much. I felt it down to my







