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The spitting of gunfire drew their attention east.

“What is that?” Aspen murmured, glancing at Malakai.

Frowning, Malakai peered down the street. “Sounds like it’s coming from the military base.”

65

Hell’s Gate

ANGELTHENE, STATE OF WITHEREDGE

Loren hadthe feeling that she had been asleep for a very long time.

When she finally opened her eyes, she was greeted by a moonlit room, a snare of sheets and pillows, and the lovely fragrance of fresh flowers.

It took her a moment to remember where she was. How she had ended up here. She was at Hell’s Gate. She was home, but this was not where she usually slept.

This was not Darien’s room.

On her nightstand stood a beautiful bouquet. White roses, pink and white lilies, snapdragons, and other blooms, all arranged neatly in a slender glass vase. Beside the vase sat a white cardboard box from Whisking Witch, the air around it sparkling with enchantments that kept the treats inside fresh without the need for refrigeration. And?—

Her heart stumbled two beats.

There was a folded card beside the box. With a deep breath, she grabbed the card and opened it.

Loren,

I know you’re upset right now, and you have every right to be. I fucked up. I should’ve thought about how you’d feel about my decision, but I didn’t. I was inconsiderate, and for that I am truly sorry. I never intended to hurt you, sweetheart. I wouldn’t dream of it.

I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, or ever. But I’m begging you not to shut me out. Give me the chance to earn back your trust. Please. Whatever you want, however long it takes, I’m willing to work through it together.

All my love,

D.C.

The tears in her eyes blurred Darien’s handwriting. One dripped off her cheek and soaked into the paper, causing his initials to bleed. She set down the card before she could wreck it and inhaled. Rubbed the moisture from her eyes.

She was reluctant to get out of bed now. She had been awake for all of five minutes, and already her heart had been ripped out and violently stomped on.

And there was still a box she hadn’t opened next to the flowers.

With careful hands, she grabbed it, sat up, and balanced it on her knees. The sparkles bobbing about like teeny fireflies tickled her skin as she flipped open the lid, well aware that whatever was in here would make it even harder to keep ignoring him.

Inside were chocolate-dipped strawberries nestled in paper cupcake liners.

She sighed. Gods, he wasnotmaking this easy, was he?

Singer pawed the door open and padded into the room with a wagging tail that sent curls of shadow through the air.

“Hi, Singer,” she whispered.

He sat down by her feet, his warm, panting breaths smelling like candle smoke. Like magic.

She scratched Singer’s misty head with one hand and inhaled three juicy strawberries with the other—she just couldn’t resist—before heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth and splash her face with cold water. She changed into jeans and a white long-sleeve shirt and fought a brush through her tangled hair. Walked out into the hall?—

And paused when she found a pillow on the floor. Right in front of her door.

Her brow scrunched.