LOGINMy pace slowed.I was close.The grove opened ahead of me, circular and impossibly quiet. The ground was covered in dead moss. Stones lined the perimeter, carved with symbols so ancient they seemed to hum.And in the center, she stood.The dark priestess.Tall. Shrouded in a veil of black. Skin like
CASSANDRADerek knows.The thought pounded in my head like a war drum, louder than the creaking floorboards beneath my feet as I stumbled back inside my cottage. I couldn’t breathe. My skin was ice. I gripped the edge of the counter like the world might slide out from under me if I let go.He knows.
"As a matter of fact," I said slowly, "it was."She nodded. "That was from one of my favorite shirts. My mother was furious when she saw that I’d torn a piece from it."The air went out of my lungs.Her favorite shirt.I blinked, trying to picture that day clearly. Cassandra had been there—that much
DEREKI didn’t move.Didn’t nod. Didn’t speak.I just stood there, letting her see it in my face. Because yeah—it was me.Every call, every closed-door meeting, every favor I cashed in to fast-track the permits they needed before anyone could find a reason to stall or block it. I’d done all of it. Q
DEREKThe crowd had already begun to gather when I arrived.The courtyard in front of the new Rogue Foundation was cordoned off with velvet rope and lined with silver-and-navy banners. The city's emblem flew alongside Moonstone’s and Red Ridge’s on tall flagpoles, and a heavy length of ribbon stretc
DEREKThe growl of the four-wheeler under me did nothing to quiet the growl inside my chest.I’d been patrolling for hours.The wind whipped against my jacket, tugging at the collar as I tore down another ridgeline, the sun low and angry behind me. Dust kicked up behind the tires in plumes. My hands
DEREKIt all slammed into me at once.The office, the old leather chair beneath me, the taste of whiskey still lingering on my tongue—and Maggie’s name reverberating like a bell that wouldn’t stop ringing in my head.Maggie. Pierce’s daughter.A rogue who had saved Elena’s life, who had helped her e
I froze, inhaling again, trying to find it.“Elena?” Derek’s voice was cautious behind me. I could feel him watching me, could hear the faint shift of his weight in the needles.I didn’t answer right away. My head turned slightly, following where I thought the scent had drifted. I took a step, then
DEREKThe trout crackled over the flames, the skin curling and blistering as the fat sizzled into the fire. It smelled amazing—woodsmoke, lemon, the faint tang of salt I’d sprinkled from a packet I found in the supply box. I was proud of the sear, honestly. Not bad for fish cooked on a stick beside
DEREKThe clay felt cool in my palm—damp, smooth, still soft enough to shape but beginning to dry around the edges. It had been warming by the Bondfire for hours, waiting for hands like mine. And yet… I had no idea what to carve.The priestess who gave it to me said nothing. Just handed me the blank







