Chapter 3

When my mother wheeled me out the door, Kane's frown deepened. His eyes swept over me again – the wig, the lipstick, the way I sat slumped in the chair because my muscles couldn't hold me upright anymore. I saw something flicker across his face. Disgust, probably. Or pity. I couldn't tell which was worse.

"What's your problem?" he said. "You were spoiled as a kid, and you're still spoiled now. It's just a broken bone. It should have healed by now. And you're making your old mother push you around?"

I smiled at him – the calm, practiced smile I had perfected over seven years of lying to everyone I loved.

"The witch said it's a bad break," I said. "I'm not supposed to walk on it for a while."

Vivra jumped in before Kane could respond. She looped her arm through his and leaned into his shoulder, staking her claim.

"Don't mind him, Selene. He's been in the North too long. He's cold to everyone except me."

My chest tightened. It was true that Kane was cold to everyone now. The boy I had known – the one who used to carry me on his back through the forest when my feet got tired, the one who whispered jokes in my ear during pack meetings to make me laugh – that boy was gone.

But once, with me, he hadn't been cold. Once, I had been the only person he truly warmed to.

I pushed the feeling down and looked at Vivra. "Do you really want me to come with you? To help pick the venue and the rings?"

She nodded eagerly. "Of course. Of course. Like I said – I trust your taste."

Kane said nothing. He just stared at me, his jaw tight.

"Okay," I said. "I'll come."

We made small talk for a few more minutes. Vivra asked me how I had been – the kind of question no one actually wants an honest answer to – and I gave her the usual lies. Fine. Busy. You know how it is. Kane didn't speak again. He just stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking at everything except me.

Then they left.

That night, I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, when I felt it.

Kane's mind-link brushed against mine.

Light. Tentative. Like a knock on a door he wasn't sure would open.

I held my breath. My heart started slamming against my ribs so hard I was sure my mother could hear it in the next room.

Seven years ago, after I pretended to cheat on him, I had blocked his mind-link. I didn't want him to feel my emotions through the bond. I didn't want him to sense my guilt, my grief, my desperate love for him. It was easier to cut him off completely.

I thought I would never feel his presence in my head again. I thought that door was sealed forever.

But now it was open. Just a crack.

He didn't speak at first. The connection just hung there, pulsing with something I couldn't name. I could feel everything churning behind it – anger, disgust, and something else. Something he was trying very hard to bury. Something that felt almost like... longing.

No. That couldn't be right. Why would he long for me? He had Vivra now. He had a pup on the way. He had moved on.

I waited.

Finally, I whispered into the link. "Kane?"

A long pause. So long I thought he had cut the connection.

Then his voice came through – low and cold, like northern wind across a frozen plain.

"Tomorrow. The venue. I'll pick you up in the morning."

My throat tightened. I had missed the sound of his voice so much. Even now – even cold and distant and bitter – it wrapped around me like something familiar. Like something I had been searching for in the dark for seven years.

"Okay," I said.

There was another pause. I could feel him hesitating. Like there was more he wanted to say but couldn't.

Then a woman's voice drifted through the background of his end of the link. "Kane, come help me dry my hair..."

Vivra.

I swallowed hard. "Goodnight, Kane," I said.

He cut the link instantly.

I buried my face in my pillow and let the tears come. I cried until my head ached and my eyes were swollen and the pillowcase was soaked through.

I had prepared myself for this. I knew he belonged to someone else now. But feeling it – hearing her voice in the background, knowing she was in his room, in his bed, in his life – it still tore me apart.