Chapter 7

Maybe I had been born only to carry the Moon Goddess’s anger.

What else could this be? Three years. Three years I had begged her to let me forget his face, and she had answered me by putting him at the end of a corridor.

A laugh broke out of me, small and cracked. I pressed my palm over my mouth to keep the tears in.

It couldn’t have been him; maybe I was wrong.

I gripped the edge of the table and forced myself to breathe. 

It had been a long day. Maybe exhaustion had finally caught up with me, and the shock had made me see things that weren’t there.

Anyone could mistake a stranger for someone they had spent years trying to forget.

Yes. That had to be it.

Because what were the chances? After three long years, why would Darius suddenly appear in the very place I had gone to work?

The man at the end of that corridor could have been a stranger with black curls and green eyes. Maybe I had simply seen what I had spent years dreading.

I shook my head, trying to convince myself that I was making sense.

Except strangers didn’t look at me like that.

My stomach dropped.

Even if it had been him, perhaps he hadn’t recognized me. I was thinner now. My hair was longer, and I wasn’t looking like the girl who had pulled him out of the forest. It had been three years. People forget faces.

The only thing wrong with  that logic is that he hadn’t forgotten. I knew it from the way he had stared at me.

Then a thought crept in, cold and sharp.

What if he followed me?

  I shot to my feet so fast the chair scraped the floor. My heart hammered as I crossed the room in one step. 

 I pressed my ear to the door and listened.

Nothing. Just the wind and the faint chirping of crickets sounded somewhere down the corridor.

I cracked the door open and peered out. The hallway was empty. No shadows, no footsteps. 

I shut it and slid the lock into place. Then I checked it again.

It was a long way from the pack house. He couldn’t have followed me without me noticing. I told myself that twice, but my hands still wouldn’t stop shaking.

Then from the bedroom came the soft sound of Kaila’s sleeping breath.

My blood ran cold.

Whatever happened, whatever he knew or didn’t know, Darius could never find out about them.

I had survived losing my pack. I had survived being left at the altar. But if he ever looked into my son’s face and saw his own eyes looking back…

I would lose everything.

And I had no idea what kind of man he had become in those three years.

That was what terrified me most.

I pulled out the chair and sat back down, my legs unsteady.

I had to go back. It was a big house, and he was probably only passing through, a visitor or a guest who would be gone by tomorrow. I would stay in the back corridors, keep my head down, and finish my work. What were the odds of running into him twice?

I had just begun to feel a little better about my decision when another thought struck me.

The vase.

I closed my eyes.

I had broken Lady Liora’s vase and run off without so much as an explanation. What would she think when she found out? I had barely started working there, and I’d already given her a reason to regret hiring me.

What if she fired me on the spot, in front of everyone?

My stomach twisted.

Perhaps going back was a mistake. I could find another job, somewhere far from that house, somewhere I wouldn’t have to worry about running into Darius.

It was better to leave on my own terms than return only to be thrown out.

Three hard knocks shook the door.

I froze, my heart stopping in my chest.

“Elaria! I know you’re in there!”

I let out a breath so sharp it hurt. Not him. The landlord.

I opened the door a crack, and Mr. Hobbs filled the gap, his face red, his thumbs hooked in his belt. 

“Your two days are up, Elaria. Rent was due days ago.”

“I start a new job today,” I said quickly. “I’ll have it by the end of the week. I promise.”

“End of the week, or you’re out.” He jabbed a finger at me. “I’m not running a charity.”

He stomped away, and I shut the door and leaned against it, my forehead pressed to the wood.

“Mommy?”

I turned.

Kieran stood in the bedroom doorway in his nightshirt, rubbing one eye. The lamplight caught his face, and those green eyes settled on me, sharp and unblinking even half asleep.

“Who was shouting?”

“No one, baby.” I crossed the room and knelt in front of him, smoothing his dark hair. “Just a man who had the wrong door.”

He studied me for a long moment. “You’re lying.”

“Go back to bed, baby.”

He didn’t move. He just reached up and wiped a tear from my cheek I hadn’t known was there.

“Are you sad because of the bad man?”

My breath caught. “What bad man?”

“The one who makes you cry in your sleep.” I pulled him into my arms before he could see my face.

Behind him, I could see Kaila’s small shape curled beneath the blanket, one fist tucked under her chin. If I ran, they would be the ones who paid for it. Cold floors. Empty bowls. A door that wouldn’t lock.

I would not let that happen. Not because of him.

I’d go back tomorrow, apologize to Lady Liora, and take whatever punishment came. I would keep my head down, stay out of sight, and be gone by evening.

And in a house that big, Darius would never even know I was there.