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I bowed over like someone punched me in the stomach.

Seph and Chase, locked in a deep, passionate kiss. His brothers whooped and hollered behind them.

A rush of sudden bile coated my throat. Chase released Seph but hauled her close like he couldn’t bear to be without her touch. A giant rock glittered on Seph’s ring finger, almost as bright as her smile.

“They announced their pack bonding. They’d have to get her something big to make it worthy of a Campion.”

We got the funding we needed.

Chase’s words flowed back, and my stomach cramped. The betrayal was violent, swift. If my scent had been detectable, it would have been sour. But Chase’s wipes stole every trace. Seph was the only heir to Denver Campion, who was worth millions. A beta, but that didn’t matter. Not when she had enough money for Chase and his brothers to invest in their scent wipes.

Chase clinked his champagne glass against the crowd that converged on them. His mouth hung open in a raucous laugh. Not a thought of me, as my entire world fell in scorched ash around me. He lied. Never intended to claim me. I had given him everything, and he had used me.

“It’s not the same,” I promised myself, shaking off the painful memory.

Baylark Pack weren’t anything like Chase. From the moment Chase offered me a tissue at my parents' funeral, he’d been a lifeline. He swooped in and made parts of me his.

I set my jaw.

Leaving for Astaly seemed like the only choice when I was stripped of everything. I hadn’t been raised to use the Hartlock name as currency and didn’t understand how far people would go at my expense. Chase made his choice, and I was making mine. I wouldn’t let the scars he scored in my soul keep me frozen any longer. Even if there was the prospect of getting hurt again, it was better than feeling nothing.

“Lloyd?” I whispered as a grunt came from the tunnel and Lloyd emerged with two bowls.

My stomach gurgled. He passed me a bowl of noodles and I took an appreciative smell.

“Did you dip into your cupboard stash for me?”

“Those aren’t for eating.” His blond hair fell over his eyes as he perched on the lip of the nest.

I swallowed a noodle, expecting him to elaborate. But there was only creeping silence as his shoulders rose around his ears. He shoveled his food into his mouth like he was starving. I put my bowl to the side, my appetite gone.

It was like he didn’t hear me. He glued his eyes to his meal, and only when the last few drops were gone did his attention shift. Lloyd put down his bowl, his gaze glazed, and breath unsteady. I reached out and brushed his knee, my stomach in knots.

“I lied before.” Lloyd’s voice was raspy. “When you asked about it.”

His scent was so salty, my eyes watered.

“Do you feel comfortable talking to me about it?” I reached out and brushed a golden lock from his clammy forehead.

His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned into my touch. We sat in silence for a moment, as Lloyd weighed the request.

Lloyd rubbed his forehead. “My childhood wasn’t like the rest of the pack. It was just me and mom, in The Barracks.” He winced when he said the name.

I hummed and stroked his hair. A purr bubbled in my throat, but I wasn’t sure if that’s what Lloyd wanted right now. My dad grew up there and I knew how hard it had been at times, how hard life still was for some of the Designated who lived there.

“We lived underground. Character building, my mom always said.” He snorted, eyes scrunched. “You can still wander in andnever find your way out unless you grew up there. I taught myself how to get around.”

My chest ached for a smaller Lloyd, one lost in tunnels.

“Mom worked two jobs, just so I could study, and I barely left our apartment except for school. When the HLA attacked, nobody was prepared for how long we’d be trapped.”

My lungs spasmed as I failed to breathe. “I was with them the first few times they tried to negotiate food drops for everyone trapped. I should have been with my parents the day they died.”

I burrowed a little closer, wanting to steal some of his warmth to calm myself.

“The council air-dropped food when they could, but it was the strongest who got the resources we needed. Mom and I survived off one meal every couple of days. The only thing that was half-decent was those noodles.”

Understanding dawned on me.