Author: Sophie Jordan

Az comes out of the classroom door right then, and I remember that she works as a teacher’s aide for her duty. She stopped by to see me yesterday, fussing over me for getting caught by hunters again, and then catching me up on all the pride gossip.

She runs to the edge of the playground when she sees us, her long hair a black banner streaked with blue. “Hey, good to see you walking around. Tired of bed?” She hugs me. “I mean how boring must it be having a gorgeous guy waiting on you at your bedside?” She rolls her eyes.

“And you?” She points a finger at Tamra. “Better keep that Deghan of yours close. Have you seen all the girls staring after him?” She presses a hand to her chest. “Not me, of course.” She winks at me. “I have more respect than to drool over another girl’s guy.”

“Az!” The teacher calls out from across the playground.

“Gotta run.” Az sighs. “Some of us have duties … you know, instead of adventures with hot boys.”

Tamra and I are chuckling as she darts away.

“Oh, I’ve missed her,” I say, shaking my head. Turning, I examine Tamra’s profile thoughtfully. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

Tamra’s features turn wistful. “You can stay here now, you know. Will, too.” She bites her lip, releasing it to say, almost as though she’s reading my thoughts, “It will be different now.”

“I know that.”

“And it’s not as though Will is quite human either.”

I nod. That’s true. I draw a deep breath and consider Will. The verdict’s still out on him. He’s not a draki but not human either. He has powers, true … but did the draki blood extend his life, too? Only time will tell.

“I know the pride is a better place now. With Cassian—”

“Jacinda.”

Something in Tam’s voice stops me. Her arm slips from around my waist. I turn to face her, gingerly positioning myself before her.

“What if Cassian weren’t in charge?”

My eyebrows furrow “Who else …”

“Last night Cassian and the remaining elders came to see me.”

I tip my head to the side, waiting for her to explain.

“They don’t want one alpha at the helm anymore. They want to keep it a council made up of representatives …” She flounders for a moment.

She looks out at the playing children, and I can’t help wondering who among them might be a fire-breather, or a defunct draki like everyone thought Tamra was. And whether the new pride will treat them both with fairness.

A breeze whips fiery tendrils across my face and I scrape them back. “Well. That sounds very democratic.”

She finally continues. “They want me to be on the council. And Deghan.”

I pull back. Angling my head, I look at her, marveling that my sister has become someone others admire. I’ve always known there was greatness in her, but until recently the pride never realized it. “And I can hear in your voice that you’re interested.”

“I said yes.”

“I see.” Nodding slowly, I process this and tell myself I should have been prepared for this. She had already told me as much … that she wanted to remain with the pride. It’s not really a shock. Since Deghan, things have changed. Tamra would no longer be content to follow me through life. A good thing, I know. We’ll be sisters, always, and still love each other, just lead separate lives. That’s as it should be. Still … it’s an adjustment thinking of my future without her next to me. And it stings a little. “You’ll be good for the pride. Fair. They’re lucky to have you.” The words are tight in my throat, but I manage to get them out.

If I told her about Mom would she still want to remain here? Even as I wonder, I know it’s not fair to manipulate her with that information just because I don’t want to lose her. But then can I not tell her? It’s not something I can keep to myself.

“We’re not little girls anymore,” she murmurs.

“No. We’re not,” I agree. A silence falls. “I know where to find Mom,” I finally admit. “Remember our trip to Oregon? That picture of us in front of the rock formation that looked like a palm tree?”

Tamra nods, her expression brightening. “Yes! The palm tree!”

“She’s there,” I say. “She’s gone back there.” I watch Tamra, hoping—unfairly, I know—that this might change her mind.

Instead, she says, “Well, she can come back here now. Her banishment won’t stand anymore—”

“I doubt she’ll care.” I give Tamra a look. “You don’t expect her to want to live here again, do you? She’s never wanted that.”

Tamra sighs. “You’re right.”

And then I feel bad … for trying to use Mom against her. “I’m sure she’ll visit,” I say. “She’ll be glad you’re happy. I am, too.”

She looks at me with relief.

I shake my head, thinking of something else. “What about Cassian? Is he content just being another member of this council?”

She looks at me like I should already know this answer. “He’s leaving.”

“What?”

“He’s leaving the pride.”

Suddenly it’s hard to breathe.

She stares at me in concern. “Jacinda? Are you okay?”

“The pride needs him.” That’s what he always told me—that the pride needed him. Us. He’d almost convinced me of that.

“He doesn’t seem to think so anymore. His dad stepped down. Severin is broken, ashamed. Him and Corbin both.” She moistens her lips and stares back out at the children. “I don’t think Cassian can stay here anymore. Not after everything that’s happened.”

And I guess I understand that. I don’t see him remaining here, fading, disappearing into shadow alongside his father and cousin. Not that I’m lumping him in with Severin and Corbin. They’re struggling with their shame while he battles with his grief for Miram. My eyes close in a pained blink as Miram’s face swims before me. I know him well enough to know he’s blaming himself. “I guess that’s true.”

“What about you, Jacinda? What are you going to do?”

What am I going to do? It’s the question I’ve been asking myself for months now. Even longer than that. Even before there was Will tugging me one way and Cassian another …

When it all comes down to me—just me—what do I want? Where am I supposed to be? For the first time, I have the freedom to make that choice. A slow smile takes over my lips.

I loop my arm through Tamra’s and we move away from the playground. The children’s laughter fades behind us. “Believe it or not, I’m still figuring that out. First, of course, Will and I are going to find Mom. And then …” My voice dies away and I feel my smile stretch wider.

She nudges me playfully. “What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing. Just feels good to have a choice. Until now, I’ve never really had the freedom to decide and then make that decision a reality. But wherever I go, I’ll come back to visit. I have to see my hotshot sister leading the pride into the future, after all.”

Tamra rolls her eyes.

“Now, c’mon,” I say. “All this walking has made me famished.”

25

I tiptoe down the darkened hallway of Nidia’s house, taking special care as I enter the living room where Will sleeps on the couch. I watch him for a moment, appreciating the rugged beauty of him before slipping outside. I need to do this alone. No sense waking him.

The township hums with all the sounds of night, but no one else is about as I move north toward Cassian’s house. A light flows through the shades. Someone’s up. I think of Severin. Tamra called him ashamed. Broken. It’s hard summoning remorse for the man. I know he lost his daughter … and, in a manner, his sister, too.

Squaring my shoulders, I knock and wait, hoping Severin doesn’t open the door. I know Jabel was responsible for my father’s death and not him, but he still played his part in my life’s miseries. I don’t want to look on his face again if I don’t have to.

I know who’s on the other side of the door before it opens. I feel him as keenly as my own breath spilling from my lips.

“Jacinda.” His gaze sweeps over me in my nightgown and then looks over my shoulder. “You came alone?”

I nod.

He gestures behind him. “Come in.”

I wave to the porch swing. “Can we sit out here?”

He closes the door behind him and takes a seat. I sit beside him. For a while, we just swing, and I wonder if this is how it would have been if I had never left the pride. Cassian and I rocking together on porch swings in the evenings for the rest of our lives?

“You’re leaving,” I announce.

He inclines his head. “Yes. So are you.” Not a question.

“Yes. Where will you go?”

He flips a hand idly through the air. “I don’t know. There’s a lot to see out there … other prides. I’d like to connect with them. Share what I’ve learned, warn them about the enkros and their tracking devices. Maybe I’ll learn from them, too.”

I think of Lia, Roc, and the others—wonder if they made it. A bitter taste coats my mouth.

“I’m sure there are better places for me than here,” he adds.

I turn to him. “What are you looking for?”

“Maybe somewhere that I can contribute something good.”

“You can do that here.”

He winces. One corner of his mouth curls in a partial smile. “Then maybe somewhere I can forget. How’s that for honesty?”

His purply dark eyes cut into me, and I know he’s talking about more than his family, more than his sister.

I open my mouth, but he holds up a hand to stop me. “I get it, Jacinda. I didn’t before, but now … since we were bonded.” He laughs harshly, and there’s discomfort in the sound. “I understand what it is you feel for Will. God, do I understand.”

My cheeks heat with embarrassment, the meaning behind his words sinking in. While I felt everything Cassian felt, he’s been experiencing all my feelings, too. Even my feelings for Will.

“Wow,” I murmur. “This is kind of awkward.”

He laughs again and this time the sound is genuine.

I brush a strand of hair from my face, but it falls back over my eyes. Our gazes lock. “I hope you find what you’re searching for out there.” What you deserve.

He lifts a hand and tucks the errant hair behind my ear. “You, too, Jacinda.”

Without another word, he drops his hand and moves toward the door. There he pauses and looks back at me. “Good-bye, Jacinda.”

I drag a deep shuddery breath into my lungs, knowing that I may not see him again—ever. “Good-bye, Cassian.”

Then, he’s gone. The door clicks softly behind him.

I rise, unable to stay another moment on his front porch, in such close proximity that I can feel his every emotion. None of which are pleasant at this particular time. Sorrow. Grief. A weariness that runs soul deep.

But what I don’t sense from him is regret. This is what I take with me as I flee his porch. What I cling to. The knowledge that we’re both following our hearts without regret. And right now mine is leading me to Will.

I hurry down the path, my nightgown swishing at my ankles. Suddenly a figure emerges from the mist.

I gasp and step back until I see that it’s Will. “You scared me.”

He approaches slowly, hands buried deep in his jeans pockets.

“Sorry. I woke up as you were leaving. I was worried about you.” I can’t imagine what he thought … me sneaking out in the middle of the night and going to Cassian of all people. Still, I see no anger in his face. Only patience. He’s watching me, waiting it seems, his gaze not so much wary as guarded. I’ve led him to hell and back, but he’s been there with me through it all.