Page 27

Without meaning to, I fall into a routine within the Ambersky pack. A week has already gone past since my heat ended.

I’ve been working on the Amanzite casting, meeting with Beth and the other psychics. Having dinner with Kira and Dorian, holding their cooing, gentle babies in my hands.

And I’ve started to remember how much I love the color of the sun, slanting over the landscape, everything glowing red like when you tip your closed eyes up to it.

The simple pleasure of watching a lizard climb the side of the building, tasting the fresh citrus and how Kira works it into delicious recipes, fresh lemonade, cream pies, roasted fish.

Time has started to move along easily, with Sarina visiting the library each morning and sinking into her books throughout the day.

One of the casters mentioned to me that the city school is actually very good, and the look of hope on Sarina’s face—delight at the idea of attending class, doing something more than homeschooling—made something in me shift.

It makes something in me wonder if this might not be a bad place to raise my daughter, after all. The moment I think it, I push it to the back of my mind, but it’s there.

I’ve started to grow a bit complacent, gotten used to the way things feel around here.

I don’t have to wake up every morning and gather water, beat scorpions out of our shed.

Hope Herold has something good for breakfast, scrub the dirt out of our clothes.

I’ve become accustomed to the easy, quiet comfort of Emin’s presence, the way he’s been trying so hard to convince Sarina and I life in Ambersky is worth it.

And that’s why I notice the second Sarina and I come out of the casting room, and Emin stands stiffly, waiting for us.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, brow pulling down immediately. The way he looks at me—surprise, coupled with suspicion—makes my stomach turn.

“Nothing,” Emin shakes the look off his face, replacing it with a terse smile. Putting a hand on my elbow, he guides me toward the door. “It’s nothing—let’s get some lunch, huh?”

Sarina, with a book under her arm, perks up at the idea of lunch, skipping along beside him. I walk behind them, biting my lip, unable to ignore the similarities between the two, even down to the way they hold themselves, their gait, and that red-gold hair, glinting in the early afternoon sun.

***

It’s past midnight when I crack open the door to Emin’s room and slip inside, crawling into his bed. He turns and tucks his arm around me, pulling my body into his automatically, but there’s still something there I can sense—some sort of reservation.

“Emin,” I start, though I’m not sure if he’s even awake. “What happened today?”

He’s quiet for a long moment, long enough that I start to think he might actually be asleep, that I’m whispering to nobody in the dark.

Then, he speaks. “I had a conversation with my father.”

Without meaning to, I suck in a breath between my teeth. As a teen, I would cross the street if I saw Kellen Argent coming toward me downtown. I was terrified of him—terrified of hearing what he might have to say about me.

Terrified that he might find out about Emin and me, take some drastic action to keep us apart. Anything to keep his good standing in the community.

We’d all seen the way he and his wife, Mhairi, treated Kira. Back then, we all thought her talking about her gift was just a little bit of weirdness, maybe a way to get some attention. I didn’t understand it—the last thing I wanted was attention.

The Argents cared so little for their daughter that they didn’t even bother to educate her on what it means to be an omega. She had no idea was her heat was, and came to school having started her first one. The alphas in her class were instantly uncomfortable.

At least it was entertaining to watch them grapple with the fact that they were thinking those thoughts about Kira—a pudgy, unpopular girl. She was only in class for an hour before a teacher sent her to the nurse’s office with a scowl.

All that to say that Kellen Argent isn’t a man I’d want to have a conversation with. And I can’t even imagine what Emin went through as his son.

“You did?”

It feels like there’s something else—something Emin isn’t telling me. Something he’s keeping from me. But, knowing what I’m keeping from him, I can’t exactly fault him for wanting to keep some things private.

I stare into the dark, listening to Emin as he speaks, his voice a low rumble that moves through my body with each syllable.

“He said…he said he wants to have a relationship. That after what my mother did—betraying that pack—he’s realized that they really fucked us up as kids. Obviously, Kira deserves that apology more than I do, but, still…”

“Emin,” I twist in his arms, coming face-to-face with him. Even in the dark, I can make him out perfectly, from the long slope of his nose to his eyebrows. “You deserve that apology. What he did to you wasn’t okay.”

“Sure,” Emin lets out a bitter laugh. “But Kira…the shit she went through, Veva. We should have believed her about her gift. Shouldn’t have told everyone that she was a liar without even checking to see if that was true.

And…you remember Dorian being mean to her in high school, but do you remember that I was doing that shit, too?

Bullying my own sister, just to make sure nobody associated me with her? ”

“I think there’s merit to taking accountability,” I murmur, running my hands over his chest. “But it’s also okay to acknowledge that your parents pushed you in that direction.

It was wrong for them to ever make you feel like you needed to be cruel to your sister—don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t okay…

but I can’t even imagine doing that to Sarina. Trying to pit her against a sibling?”

A long moment passes, and I loop my arms around his neck, bringing my lips to his cheeks. “Emin?”

“I know,” he rasps. “I’ve apologized to Kira. But it just never feels like it’s going to ever be enough. With the mistakes I’ve made in the past…it just feels like I’m never going to make up for all the harm I’ve caused.”

Without saying it, I know we’re not just talking about Kira anymore. We’re talking about me, all those years ago, climbing out his window. Disappearing into the night, and taking his unborn child with me.

Earlier today, I was wondering what the process might be to get Sarina enrolled in school. My mind is starting to shift toward the idea of staying—not just in Ambersky, but with Emin.

I should tell him.

The truth hovers there on my tongue—that Sarina is his, that I’m his.

But fear steamrolls back in, pushing those thoughts from my head. Reminding me that if I tell Emin about Sarina, she won’t just belong to me anymore. He’ll have control, be able to keep her here. Be able to keep me here.

As an alpha, what he says goes. Even if Ambersky is nicer to omegas, the second he knows that Sarina is biologically his, he’ll have more jurisdiction over her than I do, her mother—the person who birthed her alone, took care of her alone.

Nursed her and fed her and raised her the best I could without another person there to take care of us.

“Veva?” Emin whispers, trailing his finger along my hairline. “Are you still awake?”

My eyes are shut. I stay completely still, evening out my breathing. I haven’t committed to anything yet—I could still tell him at any moment.

I could tell him the truth at any moment.

But when Emin starts to snore softly, his face pressed into my hair, I realize I’ve let the moment pass again without telling him.

I have to—it’s only fair. But I have to find a way to push through the fear, to convince that protective mother inside me that Emin won’t hurt Sarina if I give him the chance to.

For at least an hour, I stare into the dark, mind working, trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do.