Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 21 - Chapitre 30

Luan woke before dawn.The cabin was cold. The bed was empty. She had stopped reaching for Cass in the night. The habit had finally broken. What remained was something harder. A purpose.She dressed in dark clothes. She braided her hair. She strapped a silver knife to her thigh. The pack had taught her that silver burned the between as easily as it burned wolves.Sera was waiting outside.You're going into the woods, the old woman said. Not a question.I'm going to find the between.Sera studied her. The yellow in her eyes was pale this morning, like old gold.The between is not a place you find. It is a place that finds you.Then I'll make it find me.Luan walked past her. Sera did not follow.The woods were quiet. Too quiet. The birds did not sing. The squirrels did not chatter. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.Luan walked to the clearing where Cass had died.She knelt in the center. She placed her hands on the cold ground.I'm here, she said.Nothing.I'm not leaving until

The scream shook the between.Luan's eyes flew open. The darkness was retreating. Not fading. Retreating. Like a wounded animal pulling back from a fire. It curled into the corners of the nowhere place, hissing and snapping, but it did not dare approach the thing that had appeared in the center of the void.The first wolf stood where the darkness had been.It was massive. Larger than Marcus. Larger than Julian. Larger than any wolf Luan had ever seen or dreamed of. Its fur was the color of moonlight on snow. Its eyes were the color of fresh blood. Its teeth were longer than her fingers. It looked at her, and she felt the hunger in her chest answer like a dog called to heel.You called, the first wolf said.Its voice was not a voice. It was a rumble. An earthquake. The sound of mountains falling into the sea. It vibrated in her bones, in her blood, in the wolf that still paced behind her ribs.Luan held Cass tighter. His body was cold in her arms. His eyes were barely open.I didn't ca

The pack built a fire at sunset.Not for warmth. The spring nights were mild now. They built it for light. For comfort. For the ritual of sitting together in the dark and watching the flames chase away the shadows.Luan sat apart from them. Not because she didn't belong. Because she needed to feel Cass without the noise of the world pressing in.He was quiet inside her. Not the silence of absence. The silence of rest. His ember had grown warmer throughout the day. The walk back to the valley. The conversation with the pack. The moment on the bed when she had imagined touching him.He was healing. Or something like healing. The between had almost consumed him, but her blood, her hunger, her love was feeding him now.You're staring at the fire, he said.You're watching me stare at the fire.I don't have anything else to watch.She almost smiled.What do you see? she asked.You. The pack. The valley. The fire. He paused. I see it through your eyes. It's not the same as seeing it with my

The pack slept. The fire had burned down to embers. The valley was quiet except for the wind and the river and the distant call of an owl.Luan could not sleep.She lay in the cabin with her hands pressed to her chest, feeling Cass's ember glow and fade, glow and fade, like a heartbeat that was not her own.You're awake, he said.So are you.I'm always awake. I don't sleep anymore. Not really.What do you do?I watch you. I feel you. I wait.She turned onto her side. She pulled his pillow to her chest.Wait for what?A pause. His ember flared.For you to need me.She closed her eyes.I always need you.Then let me in.I don't know how.Yes you do. You've done it before. In the between. In the cave. In your dreams. You imagine me. You reach for me. You touch me with your mind and your blood and your hunger.She opened her eyes.What happens if I do that now?I don't know.She sat up. The cabin was dark. The moon was bright through the window. She could see her reflection in the glass.

Luan woke with Cass's arm around her waist.Not a shadow. Not a memory. Not a voice inside her head. Solid. Warm. Real. His chest pressed against her back. His breath warm on her neck. His heart beating against her spine.She did not move. She was afraid that if she moved, he would disappear. That the cave, the ritual, the memory she had given him—all of it would turn out to be a dream.But his arm tightened.I can feel you thinking, he said. His voice was rough with sleep. It was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.She turned in his arms. His face was inches from hers. His eyes were gold. Not fading. Not flickering. Solid gold, like the first night he walked into her clinic.You're still here, she said.I'm still here.She touched his face. His skin was warm. His stubble scratched her palm. She traced his jaw, his cheekbone, the scar on his lip.How do you feel? she asked.He was quiet for a moment.Hungry, he said. Not for blood. For you. For this. For the sound of your hea