Author: Sophie Jordan

“Don’t risk yourself—”

“What do you think I’m doing here, Jacinda?” His gaze searches mine and I feel stupid. Of course, he’s risking himself. I’m not the only one with something to lose. With everything to lose. “I think you’re worth it, though.”

His words twist through me, make me feel like a quitter for giving up on us. But then I think of everything—everyone—I’m putting at risk. The lives affected if I choose Will right now. And I can’t do that. It’s not just about me.

“One week,” he repeats, and I mull that over.

This may just be his way of seeing me again, of trying to get more time with me . . . to change my mind, but it may also be Miram’s only chance.

I grasp the door handle, yank it down.

“Jacinda?”

At the sound of my name, I look back at him, feel a surge of the familiar longing.

“Noon. One week from today,” I agree.

“I’ll be here.” He nods, unsmiling, showing no expression as he holds my gaze hostage. His hand comes to rest over mine on the seat. My skin tingles, heats beneath his palm. I close my eyes in a pained blink, the selfish part of me still longing to go with him.

I slide my hand free and step from the Land Rover.

For a moment I stare out at the woods, silent and deep, the crowd of high pines casting a wide shadow. The wind blows, rustling leaves. I feel his gaze on me, but I don’t look behind me. It’s too tempting. Too hard to keep moving if I do.

With a deep breath, I start running. Sprinting through trees that press on me like familiar friends. Only they don’t feel so friendly anymore. They feel like the walls of a prison.

The guard makes me wait at the gate, talking into his radio and speaking in a low voice to someone. Severin, I’m sure. Who else would it be?

I glare at the boy as I stand beneath the ivy-covered arch, waiting . . . like an outsider that may or may not be granted admittance.

I spot Nidia hovering in the open door of her cottage, staring out at me with an unreadable gaze. Even she doesn’t come forward to meet me, and I wonder if I’ve lost her, too.

My sister is nowhere in sight, and I can’t help wondering whether she’s inside that cottage. Whether she senses I’m here, that I’ve returned, and just doesn’t care. Whether she thinks I abandoned her. The thought makes me feel slightly sick, hollow inside. Especially since she was a large part of why I came back. Tamra and Mom.

Severin arrives, sweeping me with his black gaze, fathomless as dark, endless space.

Several elders accompany him, winded, trying to keep up with his loping strides.

Cassian has no trouble. He’s there, too, at his father’s side, his gaze hungry for me, gliding over me as if seeking confirmation that I’ve actually returned, alive and well.

At least someone looks glad to see me.

Cassian steps forward and grasps my arms. “Jacinda.”

The breathy sound of my name full of relief and hope and expectation makes me look over my shoulder, wishing I were still with Will, wishing that I didn’t carry such tragic news.

His hands slide down my arms to my hands, his fingers threading with mine.

“Where’s Miram?” Severin asks the question. The question I’ve returned home to answer. I glance at him, then back to Cassian. Cassian with his deep, searching gaze. Still hopeful. Ever hopeful. His thumbs move in small circles on the backs of my hands.

In my hesitation, others start to demand the same thing.

Where’s Miram? Where’s Miram?

“I—” I lick at my dry lips.

“Where’s my daughter?” Severin’s voice cracks on the air.

I say it then. Spit out the words like a terrible poison I need to purge. “Hunters took her.”

But the poison doesn’t leave me. It’s still there, pumping through my blood. The guilt. The awful knowledge that I caused this.

Cassian’s thumbs still, stop their roving, but I don’t look up. Can’t meet his gaze.

I nod, the motion painful. “It’s true.”

His hands loosen on mine, barely touching.

“But you managed to escape?” Severin sneers. “Miraculous.”

My eyes burn with pricks of heat.

Cassian’s hands fall away altogether now.

My hands lower, fingers twitch, empty at my sides. And I don’t know where the sudden pain comes from exactly. That Miram is lost . . . maybe forever? That I’m responsible for it?

Or from feeling Cassian slip away from me.

Somehow he’s become important to me. Maybe he always has been. Even if I don’t know what we are to each other. I know that I care about him. That I can’t stand losing him and Will.

No longer touching, I look at his face, searching for a sign that he doesn’t blame me . . . hate me.

Severin moves between us and snatches hold of my arm. His fingers are long and thick, covering almost all of my bicep, and I’m reminded that he’s the alpha of our pride for a reason. The largest and strongest draki among us. Someday the alpha will be Cassian, but until then it’s Severin. And I’m at his mercy.

He pulls me along and I stifle a wince at his ungentle grasp. I’ve experienced worse pain over the last few days. Maybe I even deserve this. I just told him his daughter was taken by hunters, after all. I might as well have announced her death.

My feet trip to keep up with him. The others fall behind. I fight the urge to look and see if Cassian follows, too.

“Where are we going?” I dare the question and then regret it when Severin slides me a look of pure loathing. I’ve never seen such emotion from him. It was never personal before. I was simply a means to an end. A tool for him to use and manipulate.

The town is silent as we cut a line through the mist and head down Main. Hardly any people outdoors. Strange for midday, this lack of activity. It reminds me of the tomblike stillness after my father’s disappearance. The pride was in lockdown for more than a month then, no one emerging from their houses. Only the most basic needs were met—the most critical jobs performed for the day-to-day functioning of the pride. I remember some of the other kids complaining that it was the most boring time. I only thought it was the most miserable.

All that floods back now, rushes over me in a bitter tide of memory. I’m there again. Only then I believed in the promise for a better future. That Dad might actually return. Because that’s what Mom whispered in our ears, what she would repeat over and over as she put Tamra and me to sleep at night. Now I know the truth. She was either lying to us or to herself because she didn’t know any such thing.

Suddenly she’s the one I want to see. Like then, I want Mom to comfort me. Hold me and tell me everything is going to be all right. Even if I know better. Even if I can’t believe that anymore.

Mom’s eyes are dead pools, hardly flickering to life when I enter the house with Severin at my side. The others remain on the porch. Except Cassian. He’s gone.

Mom stares at me like she doesn’t know me, doesn’t see me.

“Mom.” I crouch down beside the bed.

Her glassy-eyed stare flits over my face. She lifts a hand and brushes the tangle of my hair.

“Mom, it’s me,” I say. “I’m back. I’m okay.”

At last her lips move. She murmurs my name. The odor hits me. I glance to the nightstand, spot the bottle of verda wine.

Severin snorts. “Doubt she even realized you were missing.”

I glance up at his hard face, then look back at Mom. Have I done this? Made things so hard she’s drowned herself in a bottle?

Pounding feet rush from outside. Voices carry.

Tamra bursts into the room, Az close on her heels. I rise, my breath a shudder, uncertain what to expect from her, from either of them.

“You’re alive,” Tamra chokes.

Her hair isn’t its usual tamed perfection. The silvery white mane is as frizzy and wild as my hair. In fact, she looks a complete mess from head to toe. More like me in a pair of shredded jeans and T-shirt.

I nod. “I’m alive.”

Moments pass and she doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak as we stare at each other. And then we’re in each other’s arms. Sobbing.

At first I think the tears are hers, the ugly raw sounds all her. But then I feel the wetness on my cheeks, the vibrations in my throat and chest. I’m crying with her.

Az is there, too, her slim hands stroking my sore back.

“I’m so sorry, Tam,” I say.

“No, I’m sorry! I always blame you for everything and you just put up with it! I’m so glad you’re not dead . . . so glad you’re back.”

I close my eyes in relief. This. This is why I had to come back. Because a part of me will always be linked to Tamra. I couldn’t have left her to wonder, to suffer the mystery of my disappearance. . . .

“Yes, she’s alive, but Miram is lost. My daughter.” Severin’s voice intrudes and we all three peel apart. I stare at him, wary of him as any beast or predator. His attention settles on me. “This shall not go unpunished. Not this time. You’ve used up your last chance, Jacinda.”

A creaky floorboard draws my attention to the bedroom door. Cassian stands there, not stepping inside. But he’s here. He’s come back. Something flutters inside my chest.

“The pride shall assemble within the hour.” My gaze snaps back at the sound of Severin’s voice. “You’ll speak for your transgressions so all can hear.”

I’m to face a public judgment?

Such events are uncommon in pride life. I recall only one or two public judgments in my lifetime, but then rarely does anyone transgress.

Severin’s dark eyes narrow on me. “Don’t be late. You don’t want me to send an escort.” He turns to leave. At the door, he pauses, assesses his son. “Actually, Cassian. On second thought, why don’t you make certain she’s on time?”

He means make sure I don’t escape.

The relief I felt at the sight of Cassian vanishes. He’s to be my jailer.

“It will be okay.” Tamra squeezes my arm, pulling my attention back to her earnest face. “I’ll stand by you.”

“Me too,” Az pipes in.

I smile at the both of them. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

I glance at Mom. Surprisingly, she’s pushing up from the bed. I grasp her arm to help her sit upright.

“I’ll make some tea,” Az quickly volunteers, hurrying from the bedroom.

Cassian watches in silence from the door as Tamra and I tend to our mother.

“A little privacy please,” Tamra calls sharply at him without looking. Instantly, I’m reminded of the last time the three of us were in a room together. The ugly words . . . Apparently, my sister hasn’t forgotten either.

From the corner of my eye, I observe his departure. Listen to his footsteps. He doesn’t go far. Just to the living room. He has his orders. He’s my escort to the assembly, after all. He won’t be leaving.

As though she can read my mind, Tamra says, “We’ll be with you, Jace. Mom and me. We’ll stand together as a family.”

I look at my sister as she crouches near Mom. Mom is looking at me, too, her gaze more lucid, more familiar than the stranger’s of the last few weeks. More like the mother I know.

“You came back. You voluntarily came back. That has to mean something,” she says, making me feel less worried. And relieved. She knew I’d left. She knew and cared. “You’re no deviant. Severin is not thinking rationally. They’ll see that. No one has been punished unjustly before.”

I’m tempted to ask, What about justly?

I’m no innocent. I’ve done things I shouldn’t.

But then Mom takes my hand and her grip is warm and firm. Feels the way it did when I was small and she was my entire world. When she and Dad could make everything right with the touch of a hand.