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“Yes, Dr. Sorin.”

He hurries away, and I stare at the remains of the cottage.

I am truly alone now. No mother. No Griffin—not that he was ever really mine to begin with. No home. Just ashes and a cold, empty future.

“Dr. Sorin?” A palace messenger approaches hesitantly. “We’ve prepared chambers for you in the east wing.”

“No,” I say, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice. “I won’t be staying.”

“But His Majesty—”

“He doesn’t want me to stay, either.”

I walk away from the ruins, my decision crystallizing with each step. There’s nothing left for me here except pain and rejection. The lab, my research—it all feels hollow now. What was I thinking, trying to find a place in a world that doesn’t want me?

The official is waiting for me with fresh clothes. Teresa lets me change in her cottage. I listen to her talking about my mother, but my heart is numb. I have nothing left. No belongings, nothing.

I should reach out to Leanna, tell her what happened, but something stops me. I’m so tired. My heart feels like somebody has sliced it to shreds.

I write one note, and only one. To Griffin.

You were right. I will never be your mate. I helped you escape captivity. To return that favor, all I ask is for one thing: Don’t look for me.

I give the message to Teresa to deliver to Griffin when he returns.

By nightfall, my mother’s remains are in a small urn in my suitcase, her brooch on my sweater, as I sit on a bus, leaving the palace far behind.

For the first time in my life, I am all alone.

Chapter Thirteen

Griffin Wild

The crown sits heavy on my head today. Six months. Six long, hollow months since she vanished. The note she left still rests in the top drawer of my desk, the paper worn thin from how often I’ve unfolded it, read it, and folded it again, as if the words might somehow change.

You were right. I will never be your mate. I helped you escape captivity. To return that favor, all I ask is for one thing: Don’t look for me.

I didn’t. Not actively, anyway, even though every fiber of my being screamed to search for her, to follow her scent across continents if necessary. But I respected her wish. I owed her that much.

Erik believes differently. He has tracked her movements for months, against my explicit orders. “She’s alive,” he told me once, his eyes searching mine for any reaction. I gave him none. The king I’ve become doesn’t reveal weakness, even to his brother.

The pen in my hand snaps, ink spilling across the reports detailing the latest outbreak of the disease. The second wave isspreading rapidly—over three hundred affected now, unable to shift, their wolves locked away behind some invisible barrier. The first wave responded to Maya’s antidote, but this mutation is resistant. The healers are baffled, and the council grows more desperate with each passing day.

A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. “Enter,” I call, my voice flat.

Erik steps in, his expression grim. “Another twenty-three cases reported today.”

I nod, unsurprised. “Location?”

“Mostly within our kingdom, but there are reports coming in from the Eastern Kingdom now.” He drops into the chair across from me without waiting for permission. “The elders are demanding action.”

“Let me guess,” I say dryly. “They want me to find her.”

Erik’s silence is answer enough. I rise from my chair and move to the window. The gardens below are in full bloom, vibrant with life. I find it almost offensive how the world continues to thrive when everything inside me feels leached of color.

“We should discuss what we found at the facility,” Erik says quietly.

I tense up. The memory of that night still haunts me—the abandoned laboratories, the empty cells, the bodies. So many bodies, shifters taken and experimented on like animals. Some we were able to identify from missing persons reports. Others remain nameless, faceless victims of the Silver Ring’s cruelty.