Chapter 6

I glanced at his screen.

It was my listing.

I had priced the watch low. It sold that same day.

“It isn’t mine.” I managed a strained smile. “Brooke and her husband have the same pair, remember? She wanted a new one and asked me to list hers.”

“Really?”

He sounded unconvinced.

I didn’t elaborate.

He came closer, his voice softening.

“I’ve been busy lately. Maybe I haven’t paid you enough attention. If something’s bothering you, you need to tell me.”

“Okay.”

“Since my mother died last year, you’re the only person who’s always been there.”

He pulled me into a tight embrace.

“Audrey, whatever happens, you’re the most important person in my life.”

I had believed that once.

When his mother became seriously ill, I sat with him outside the healing center and took over every pack responsibility he couldn’t manage.

After the funeral, he refused food for two days. I coaxed him into drinking warm soup, one spoonful at a time.

Back then, I thought we had already become a family.

Now, resting against his chest, I smelled a faint trace of roses.

Sadie’s perfume.

“It’s late,” I said. “Go shower.”

“Just another minute.”

He rested his chin on my head.

“When things settle down, we’ll have a proper talk.”

Busy.

Busy standing in line for cake.

Busy arranging roses.

Busy reassuring me while keeping Sadie happy.

He certainly had a lot to do.

He tilted my face up.

“Why are your eyes red? Have you been crying?”

“I—”

His phone rang.

He looked at the caller and immediately released me.

Whatever he heard after answering made his expression change. He turned and hurried out.

It was freezing outside.

He didn’t even take a coat.

“Mason!”

Years of habit made me call after him.

He never looked back.

I went to the window and watched the black Porsche race down the drive, disappearing into the dark.

The last time I had seen him that frightened was when a healer told him his mother might not survive the night.

A few minutes earlier, he had said I was the most important person in his life.

Over the next few days, I said goodbye to friends and finished the last of my handover.

On the evening before my final day, I stood in front of the calendar. After a brief hesitation, I crossed out the date.

Tomorrow was Mason’s birthday.

My last day here.

I ordered a birthday cake and took every photograph off the walls.

One by one, I cut them apart and dropped the pieces into a trash bag.

Very little of me remained in that house.

The next morning, stomach pain woke me.

I hadn’t been eating properly, and I had missed several doses of medicine.

The old injury felt as though it had torn open again. Pain rolled upward in waves.

At the beginning, Ashridge had been just Mason and me.

We negotiated projects by day and slept in an office without working heat at night.

I had refused my family’s money because I couldn’t bear to give my father another reason to look down on Mason.

At our poorest, we split a single takeout meal and saved the rest for building materials.

I had stumbled into the wolfsbane trap because we couldn’t afford enough surveyors.

I wanted to finish measuring the last section before the snow came.

By the time Mason found me, I was unconscious.

Later, the healer told me he carried me into the clinic with blood covering his hands and refused to let go.

When I woke, he was beside my bed.

A man well over six feet tall, his eyes frighteningly red.

“I made you suffer,” he said.

“Audrey, I’ll never let you down.”

But the sincerity of a promise did not guarantee that the person making it would keep it.

I forced myself out of bed, ate a few bites of toast, and took my medicine.

The pain didn’t ease.

Curled on the couch, cold sweat soaking my pajamas, I called Mason.

No answer.

A little later, Brooke called.

“Have you seen Mason? He hasn’t been to the council hall in days. His desk is covered in documents, and the border project needs his decision.”

So he hadn’t been busy with pack business either.

“You can’t both abandon everyone just because you’re preparing for a ceremony,” she said with an anxious sigh. “Please talk him into coming in, even briefly.”

I closed my eyes and breathed slowly.

“And the head of the Aster Alliance is having his mating ceremony next week. In New York. Tell Mason to find an invitation. If he can speak to Alexander Sterling in person, we might have a chance at expansion funding.”

My eyes flew open.

“Wait.”

Another spasm twisted my stomach. I gripped the edge of the couch.

“What did you say his name was?”

“Alexander Sterling.”