LOGINEMBER’S POVMy heart twists in my chest.Because of my mother, I always viewed my capacity to love, to forgive, and to unlearn as my absolute greatest flaw.I hated being the kindest person in the room, because it usually meant being the first one taken advantage of.But why should I bear the burden of other people’s cruelty? Why should I crush the one thing most of the world has entirely lost?If there is one thing I know for certain now, it is that some people are worth the extra mile. They are worth the second chance, the kindness, and the forgiveness. It isn’t naivety anymore.My heart finally knows the difference between shrinking down just to please others, and standing firm in my truest, kindest self.“I don’t know what happened between you and Knox in Zürich,” I say. “He didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask, because whatever passed between you two belongs to you, not to me. But I know that something you said or did in those hours is the reason that man shifted on a tarmac and ran a
EMBER’S POVQueenie’s hand tightens on Rayana’s so hard I can see the knuckles whiten.“No. No, no, no. You told everyone six months. You SAID six months, Rayana.”“Six months was the number from three months ago. The disease didn’t get the memo about pacing itself, and my body has been less than cooperative with the ‘fighting it’ part of the programme.” She looks between us and the smile she attempts doesn’t land anywhere near where she aimed it. “Dr. Patel used the phrase ‘aggressive trajectory,’ which is medical speak for ‘start saying your goodbyes.’ And that was twelve days ago. So whatever’s left of those two weeks is…” She waves her free hand vaguely. “Not two weeks.”“Days,” I say, and my voice comes out smaller than I want it to. “You’re talking about DAYS.”“I’m talking about whatever the ‘aggressive trajectory’ has left me, which at this point is less of a timeline and more of a countdown.” She looks at Queenie, who is crying silently with both hands wrapped around Rayana’s
EMBER’S POVI look at Queenie. Queenie looks at me.Neither of us has an answer because the truth is that in the chaos of the Bacchanal’s aftermath — the heat, the compound, the rescue, everything that followed — nobody stopped to check.Queenie laughs.It comes out high and tight and hollow.“Okay, come on. You’re both scaring me right now and I’m not doing this.” She waves her ice cream cup like a tiny plastic shield against the direction this conversation has taken. “Rafael is not alive. He simply CAN’T be alive. We barely made it out of that lodge in one piece, Rayana. Ember was drugged, I was terrified, Knox went full wolf and tore through that man like he was made of paper. You want me to believe that someone survived THAT and is just what, recovering quietly somewhere while we all frolic around Alaska having ice cream?”“Queenie—”“NO. I refuse to accept it. Think about it logically.” She holds up a finger. “If Rafael was alive, why wouldn’t he have come for us already? We slep
EMBER’S POVWe eat terrible ice cream in Rayana’s hospital bed. Three women, three plastic cups, and the steady beep of a heart monitor keeping time like a metronome.And the conversation that follows is the most honest I’ve had with anyone other than Knox.Rayana starts it. She puts her ice cream down and looks at me, and the performative energy drains from her face like water from a tub.What’s left is just a woman in a hospital bed who needs to say something that has been sitting on her chest for weeks.“I owe you an apology,” she says. “About Rafael.”I go still. Queenie goes still.“I brought him into your life. I co-signed that trip. I sat in his living room and drank his champagne and listened to him talk about fate and mate bonds, and I thought he was charming and romantic and I INTRODUCED you to his personal orbit.” She swallows. “He told me things, Ember. About his beliefs about you. About his obsession with the idea that you were his fated mate. And I thought it was sweet.
EMBER’S POVI look at Knox, and the look that passes between us is the kind that makes other people uncomfortable.It is loaded with private language, inside jokes, the shared history of a thousand terrible moments and a handful of perfect ones.He rolls his eyes in a way that is so exaggeratedly put-upon that it’s obviously an act, and I blow him a kiss because I can, because he’s mine, because blowing a kiss to the Lycan King in a hospital room while his ex-fiancée watches is exactly the kind of petty, delicious power move that I have earned the right to make.Knox catches the blown kiss — actually reaches up and closes his fist around the air like he’s grabbing it — and puts it in his jacket pocket.“For later,” he says.And then he WINKS at me, the bastard, and the wink is so stupidly charming and so deliberately over-the-top that Rayana makes a gagging sound from the bed.“Get OUT,” Rayana says. “You two are revolting, and I’m dying, and I don’t want my last memories to be the Ly
EMBER’S POVI sit with Maurice for twenty minutes before Knox comes to find me.Twenty minutes isn’t long enough for everything I want to say to a man who is lying in a hospital bed with tubes in his arms and machines counting his heartbeats.But twenty minutes is what I have because we’re leaving Alaska today and there’s a list of things that need doing before we board that plane.Knox has been letting me take my time, but I can feel him hovering in the corridor the way he hovers when he’s being patient against his natural instincts, which is to say: loudly.“I’m going to find her,” I tell Maurice’s unconscious face. His hand is warm in mine, and the machines beep their steady rhythm.His chest rises and falls softly.“Devika. I’m going to find her and get every answer you were too scared to chase. About my father, about the suppressants, about the woman with the twin girls and the black car. All of it.”He doesn’t respond. Obviously. But his fingers twitch against mine in a way that
EMBER’S POVI stare down at Knox on his knees, my pulse slamming so hard I can feel it between my legs. He's grinning up at me like a wolf who's already tasted blood, gold eyes glowing, fangs just barely peeking past his lip.I fold my arms, pretending my thighs aren't already trembling."What do I
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
KNOX’S POVHe blinks, the picture of innocence. “I’m not sure I understand. I explained the purpose quite clearly at the beginning of the evening. Conflict resolution. Closure. An opportunity for all parties to—”“Bullshit.”The word is deadpan, and I see Logan’s head snap up, see Gale’s sobbing st
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







