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But I already know. I can feel it—a hum in my blood, a stirring of the bond that’s been dormant for so long.

“Dr. Sorin,” Erik confirms. “She arrived at the gates ten minutes ago.”

I’m moving before he finishes speaking, striding through the palace corridors with barely restrained urgency. Guards and servants flatten themselves against walls to let me pass, and hushed whispers erupt behind me.

Outside, the afternoon sun is bright, the air crisp for springtime. I scan the grounds frantically, searching.

And then I see her.

She stands before the ruins of her mother’s cottage, still just a blackened foundation despite the months that have passed. Her back is to me, shoulders straight but somehow fragile beneath her simple, dark jacket.

I approach slowly, not wanting to startle her. But she must sense me, because she speaks without turning.

“My mother probably suffocated in her sleep from the smoke,” she says, her voice flat. “I like to think she didn’t feel any pain. But I don’t know.”

I stop a few paces away, unsure if I’m welcome any closer. “Maya—”

“I have nightmares about it,” she continues as if I haven’t spoken. “About her calling for me, waiting for me to save her. The alcohol helps with that, at least. I don’t dream when I drink.”

The admission tears at my heart. “I’m sorry.”

She turns to face me now, and I’m struck by the changes in her. She’s still thin, still hollow-eyed, but there’s a clarity in her gaze that wasn’t there in Seattle.

“I’m not here for you,” she says flatly. “I’m here because I don’t want Leanna or her children to suffer. That’s the only reason.”

“I understand.” And I do. It’s more than I deserve, more than I could have hoped for. “Thank you.”

She nods once, curtly. “I’ll need access to your labs. And samples from the infected shifters. Everything you have on the disease so far.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

Her gaze moves away from mine, back to the ruins. “I threw everything away, you know. Everything you left in my apartment. The food. The note.”

The words shouldn’t hurt—I expected nothing less—but they do. A sharp ache beneath my ribs.

“I don’t want anything from you, Griffin,” she continues. “Not help, not comfort, not protection. I’m here to do a job, and when it’s done, I’m leaving. Is that clear?”

“Yes.” The word comes out rougher than I intend. “Crystal clear.”

She adjusts the bag on her shoulder, straightening up as if preparing for battle. “I should get to the lab, then. We’re wasting time.”

I lead her silently back toward the palace, acutely aware of the distance she maintains between us—a cold, empty space that feels wider than any ocean.

Chapter Fifteen

Dr. Maya Sorin

The antiseptic smell of the lab hits me as I step through the door—familiar, clinical, a reminder of the life I left behind. For a moment, I almost expect to see my old notes scattered across the workstation, beakers half-filled with the compounds I was testing. But the lab is immaculate, everything in its place, as if waiting for me.

“Maya!”

Jerry’s voice breaks the silence. He looks older than I remember, new lines etched around his eyes and mouth. His smile is wide but cautious, like he’s not sure how I’ll respond.

“Jerry.” My voice sounds flat even to my own ears. I place my bag on the counter. “It’s been a while.”

He steps forward, hesitates, then seems to decide against hugging me. Smart man. “It’s good to see you. You look...” He trails off, unable to find a compliment that wouldn’t sound like a lie.

“I look tired. I know.” I unzip my bag and pull out my laptop. “Let’s skip the small talk. I’m here to work on the antidote, not to catch up.”