Chapter 2

Rain hammered Ravenport when I stepped out of the law office.

Adrian called again.

"What did you take from the vault?" His voice carried the familiar edge of mockery. "Was it enough?"

I stood beneath the awning and watched dirty rainwater race down the courthouse steps. "Why are you calling?"

A beat of silence passed before he gave a low, humorless laugh.

"Since you took something from the Blackwoods, come back and clear your things out of the master bedroom. Vivian is staying there tonight."

Pain pricked behind my ribs.

I had already decided to leave him, but my body still remembered how to break at the sound of his voice.

"Fine," I said.

My obedience didn't satisfy him. It made his breathing turn sharp.

"Good, Elena. I guess money really can buy your temper. Your conscience, too."

There was more than contempt in his tone. There was anger that sounded almost like abandonment.

He had probably expected me to demand whether Vivian would really sleep in our room. Maybe he wanted me to tell him I hadn't taken any money and that I was only too tired to fight.

But we had forgotten how to speak like two people who loved each other. Adrian used cruelty instead of questions, and I used silence to protect what little dignity I had left.

The call ended.

Only then did I notice my nails had cut crescents into my palm.

By the time I reached the Blackwood Estate, I was soaked through. I pressed my thumb to the smart lock, and a red light flashed.

[ACCESS DENIED.]

My fingerprints had been removed.

Beside the keypad hung the evergreen wreath I'd woven the previous Christmas. Adrian had complained that the colors were too bright for the stone entrance, yet he'd never let the staff take it down. Rain shook water from its branches as if the house itself were shivering.

I laid my hand against the cold door.

Through the mate bond, I knew Adrian wasn't inside, but his scent lingered everywhere. I remembered our first day as mates, when he'd registered my fingerprints and kissed each fingertip.

"Whatever happens," he'd said, "this door will always open for you."

Apparently forever lasted eight years.

I rang the bell and called the house manager. No one answered.

I later learned Adrian watched me through the porch camera the entire time.

He saw me shaking in the rain. He saw me crouch beside the door, coughing until I could barely breathe. His hand even hovered over the remote unlock button.

Then Vivian said, "She's only doing this because she knows you can't stand seeing her sick."

On the recording later submitted to the Council, Adrian asked quietly, "Does she have a fever?"

"She's a wolf," Vivian replied with a laugh. "She isn't made of glass."

He remained silent for nearly a minute.

The door stayed locked.

Believing my pain was manipulation was easier than admitting he still cared.

Two hours later, the house manager finally opened the door. He looked down at me without sympathy.

"Alpha's orders. Anyone who benefits from the Blackwood name follows Blackwood rules. Consider the wait a warning."

I didn't defend myself.

I dragged my freezing body upstairs, showered, changed, and packed my belongings from the master bedroom into cardboard boxes.

There were no jewels inside them. Only old design notebooks, the camera Ethan had bought me with money from his first summer job, a few books, and Adrian's first love letter.

I left the letter in the bottom drawer beside the pressed silverpine leaf he'd given me after our first date.

Not because I couldn't bear to take it.

Some memories simply didn't belong in the life I was trying to build.

When I sealed the final box, the room tilted. I collapsed beside the bed.

I woke to hands dragging me upright by the shoulders.

Vivian screamed near the doorway. She wore one of Adrian's white shirts, loose at the collar, her bare legs showing beneath the hem. Adrian stood in front of her, Alpha pressure rolling from him so heavily that the air itself seemed to tighten.

"Why are you lying here?" he demanded. "Were you trying to humiliate her?"

"I was just..."

I wanted to say I had a fever. I wanted to tell him I'd packed exactly as he'd ordered.

Then I recognized the shirt.

It was the one Adrian had worn the night he first marked me.

His scent clung to the fabric around Vivian's body.

My wolf lifted her head and gave one low, broken whine.

The words died in my throat.

I touched my forehead. It was burning.

Vivian grabbed the metal diffuser from the nightstand and hurled it at me.

The sharp corner struck my brow. Blood ran into my eye.

Adrian's expression changed at once. He stepped toward me, but Vivian caught his arm, tears already spilling down her cheeks.

"She knew this was your room. She lay there on purpose so she could watch us and remind me I'll never replace her."

Adrian stopped.

His fingers curled at his sides. His wolf reacted violently to the scent of his wounded mate, and I saw him force himself not to look at the blood on my face.

Once, he'd summoned the family doctor because I cut my finger opening a package.

Now he stood two steps away and strangled every instinct that told him to help me.

He thought he was punishing me. He didn't understand that every time he crushed his tenderness, he moved farther away from the woman he claimed to love.

"Elena," he said at last, his jaw hard, "couldn't you at least choose a better time to fake being sick?"

"I'm not faking."

"Enough. You hurt people, then use tears and illness to force me to forgive you."

I braced a hand on the dresser and stood. Pain pulled across my back. "I'll leave. I won't be in your way again."

The word leave struck him like a slap.

Adrian crossed the distance and locked his hand around my wrist. "Leave? Your brother is still in a private rehabilitation center paid for by the Blackwoods. You take my money, challenge me at every turn, and now you threaten to walk away?"

Ice spread through my chest.

"What are you going to do to my brother?"

For one second, hesitation crossed his face.

Vivian sniffled behind him.

Adrian released me and turned toward the hall. "Call the rehabilitation center. Move Ethan Vale to the standard wing. Maybe Elena needs a reminder that privilege isn't a birthright."