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Annoyed at his ability to be still, I huffed. Normally I was better at this game. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not, but it’s okay to not be fine.”

“What do you know?” I snapped. “We’ve barely met.”

“Your scent shifts a little bit whenever Ember wears blue. Did you know that?” He was still reading. “Just a small sweetness of honey.”

“How did you know it was blue?” He was being calm and implacable and I didn’t need that right now.

“I asked Rian what Ember was wearing,” he simply. “So is blue your favorite color or do you like it on Ember?”

“It brings out her eyes,” I muttered. “Which is why you wear blue all the time?”

Ben let out a soft laugh. “Actually, I let Rian pick out the colors I wear. I don’t care, and he likes putting me in deep reds, blue, and greens.”

I grunted. “My scent is off enough that your superhuman sense of smell isn’t exactly shocking.”

“Because something terrible happened.” Ben shrugged. “I don’t have to know you to know this is upsetting. And when we find out who did it, we’ll drop them into the deepest part of the ocean.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, I almost missed it.

I relaxed against him. Some of my frustration was laced with the need for action. To keep them from hurting me, and Ember, ever again.

“They’re not allowed to hurt her like that,” I snarled.

“They are not allowed to hurteitherof you like that,” Ben said, his voice firm.

Oddly, the violence his voice promised comforted me. I read for a little bit longer, and then exhaustion finally claimed me. I made Ben come back to the nest with me, hoping things wouldn’t feel so dejected in the morning.

Chapter 35

Ember

Smoke filled the cabin.

The plane had taken off an hour ago, and I was proud I wasn’t too scared. It was my first time, and I was thirteen, ready to show my parents that I was mature. Mom patted my hand, smiling.

Dad and Pops were sitting on my other side, sharing a book between them. My aunt and uncles sat on the aisle seats, having a lively debate about Cosmic Bonds.

I had my own book, a story about a tween girl who rescued an abused show horse and recently switched to being an omega.

My book was just getting to the part about the horse learning to walk again when something acrid tickled my throat. I coughed and looked around. White smoke rolled at the top of the cabin. It smelled burnt, like plastic that got too close to a flame.

White-hot fear made everything inside me turn liquid.

I didn’t want to ask Mom why smoke flooded the cabin. I wanted an adult to tell me what was going on.

The flight attendant hurried down the aisle, and that caught Dad’s attention. He saw the smoke, his face going ashen. He touched Mom’s hand. “Honey.”

That one word told me everything I needed to know.

The dream skipped. In reality it had been almost forty minutes of waiting. The captain told us that they had a small engine fire and everything would be fine.

The seat belt light came on. No one was allowed to walk around the aisle.

I moaned, trying to break out of the dream, knowing what happened next. Sometimes it worked and I could wake myself up.

It didn’t work this time. I twisted in bed, the panic of the passengers hammering into me. The sickening lurch as the plane hit turbulence. The face masks dropped down, and Mom squeezed my hand. “I love you. It’s okay. We’re okay.”