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ATALIIA

Idon’tknowhowlong I sat outside Pri’s and Wren’s home. How long I had waited for her to let me in.

But she never did.

I couldn’t blame her; I had done the same. But looking back now, I wish I had let people in—let the people that loved me in to share the heartache because it wasn’t just mine, it belonged to all of us.

So I sat with her anyway on the steps of their home that was too quiet, too dark, hoping that she could feel my presence through the walls.

It wasn’t until the rain had started that I pulled myself away from her door, letting it wash me, rinse me of the shame and rage I felt.

Shame for how I had treated him all these months, for pushing him so far away instead of pulling him into me when he’d needed his family.

Rage at the thought that I would never touch him again. That I would never hear his laugh.

I already missed it.

Already wished that I’d listened more closely to the cadence of how it flowed from his lungs. Wished I’d memorized the feeling of his arms around my shoulder—wished that I’d never shrugged out of it.

I should have loved him so much louder.

The devil truly takes the best of us.

If we made it through this, if we made it out of the other side, I would pen it intoThe Storiesmyself—the legend of two brothers who loved without limits, who created joy in every being they touched, who sacrificed themselves so that the next generation could read the truth. Could read our unaltered history and know how hard they fought for Nimbria. Could understand the pain that poured into freeing it, the bodies and bones that had become part of the very foundation they would build their free lives on.

They would be known as the warriors of legends, the greatest lovers that ever lived. Men of honor that children would strive to become.

I would make sure of it, if it was the last thing I ever fucking did.

Rain dripped from my freezing skin as I stepped into my small house on the edge of the field across from where Landers and Cin stayed. It was lonely here, cold.

But I was comfortable that way.

I flicked my fingers toward the fire and it roared to life, shadows dancing against the mahogany walls as I slid to the floor in the center of the room. Cyloe slipped from the bedchamber, padding over to my side and setting her wolf’s head on my shoulder.

At least I had her.

I leaned my head against hers as she nuzzled into my neck, her fur tickling against my cheek as I glanced to the door.

I knew he was coming, I’d seen it minutes ago.

A knock sounded against the door but I didn’t answer. He would come in.

He always did.

The door cracked open to the torrent on the other side as Dukovich slipped through, his hands steady as he closed it at his back. He leaned against it, his fingers sliding into the pockets of his leathers as he studied me.

The mask between us had slipped in those dungeons and I saw him now—reallysaw him.

He was not the man I thought he was.

A part of me was scared of that knowledge. I wanted him,neededhim to be cruel. It would give me a reason to hold onto the anger, the hate.

I stayed silent as I looked up at him, my gaze never leaving his. He took a step forward, his boots echoing against the hardwood floor.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he took a second step toward me. “Hi, love. Did you miss me?”

“Yes.” The answer was hushed, rolling from my tongue before I could stop it.