Chapter 4

The next morning, Adrian finally noticed something was wrong.

“Where's our picture?”

I met his eyes in the mirror as I brushed my hair.

“Moisture got into the frame. I've sent it out to be restored. It should be back in a few days.”

He studied me, then let it go.

Perhaps he was pleased with how quiet I had become, how little trouble I gave him. For once, he offered something without being asked.

“Tomorrow’s our third anniversary. I booked a table at Le Jardin. Just the two of us. I’ll make up for last year.”

I had mentioned that restaurant so often he should have been able to recite the menu.

My grip tightened on the hairbrush, then eased.

“You’ve said that before.” He took my quiet voice for acceptance and reached for his keys.

The following evening, a courier delivered an express envelope.

My travel documents. The research visa. Permission to reside on Silver Bay territory. A one-way ticket to Oslo on a flight leaving early the next morning.

Everything was ready.

I put the papers away and finished clearing out my life.

The skincare on the dressing table. My toothbrush and towels. The few everyday clothes still hanging in the closet.

One by one, I gathered up everything that belonged to me. Some went into trash bags, some into the neighborhood clothing-donation bin.

By the time I was done, the house I had lived in for three years held almost no sign of me.

At seven, I zipped my suitcase shut. I had never put on the dress for Le Jardin.

I knew how the evening would end. Selene would need him, and he would ask me to wait. There was no reason to sit at another empty table to hear it.

I ate a piece of toast at the kitchen counter and booked a car to the airport. Then I printed the final documents my representative had sent.

Once, he had come through a downpour to meet me for dinner, arriving before our reservation with his coat soaked through. He had tucked my cold hands against his chest and apologized anyway.

Now I put his spare key beside the papers and checked the time of my flight.

My phone lit up with a photograph from Selene.

The garden of her house glittered with lights and sparks. Adrian stood on the lawn, setting off fireworks for her.

I couldn't remember the last time I had seen that expression on his face.

Underneath, she had written: He says I'm the only person he's ever wanted to protect.

Almost at once, he called.

“Nora, I’m sorry about dinner. Have you eaten? Please don’t sit there hungry. I won’t make it home tonight.”

He sounded apologetic, but Selene called his name before he could say anything else.

“The power's gone out here. Something wrong with the wiring. She's frightened on her own. We'll celebrate another night.”

Through the phone, I heard her delighted little gasp as another firework went up.

“That's all right. Stay with her.”

I hung up. The driver messaged to say he was outside.

I took one last look at the empty rooms where I had once imagined the rest of my life.

I left my petition to dissolve our mate bond on the desk, with the medical report underneath. My representative had already filed the formal application with the Pack Affairs Office. It was waiting for the elders' review.

My mating mark pulsed against my neck.

I pressed my fingers to it and closed my end of the mind-link. The mark would remain until the bond was formally severed. That didn't mean I had to leave the door open for him.

With the petition, I left my proposed property settlement. He could have everything we owned jointly. I was taking only my personal savings and research earnings.

My signature was already on the last page.

I wheeled my carry-on to the door and closed it behind me.

“The airport, please,” I told the driver. “As quickly as you can.”

An hour after my taxi pulled away, Adrian came home after all.

Before he went inside, he sent me a message.

Selene's asleep. I'm coming home to you and the baby.

He opened the bedroom door to silence. On the desk, beneath the petition, he found the medical report.

Complete miscarriage following a rogue attack. No surgical intervention required.

The report was dated the night he had taken Selene to see the festival fireworks.

In his other hand, he held a little stuffed wolf he had bought for the baby. His fingers began to shake.

“Nora… where’s our pup?”

Then a second, more horrifying truth hit him: I was gone.