Page 31

For the first time in a very, very long time, I’m wearing a nice dress.

My hair is pinned up, and I’m wearing lipstick.

The whole of it feels foreign on my body, which has been used to bathing in streams, patching together clothes, slathering my face in a sun-tonic, braiding my hair back away from my face. Unfussy.

This—the whole night—is very fussy.

My dress is black, slinky, made for me by Kira. Her brother can’t keep his eyes off of me, and my hands only shake slightly as I hold my glass of champagne, trying not to think about what I’ll be doing once everyone is here.

We’re on the roof of the pack hall. Fairy lights dance above us, and above that, stars shine in a cloudless sky. Fall is coming, which brings with it the amber skies for which this land is known. But before the auroras settle in, stargazing is at its peak.

Alphas, omegas, and betas mingle, moving through the crowd, laughing, forming little groups. I stand by the punch bowl, trying to busy my hands with something.

At the council meeting, after a long discussion about what to do with Oren Blacklock that ultimately ended in needing more deliberation, Dorian instructed several event planners to put this celebration together.

Never in my life did I think I would be at an event thrown by the alpha leader. Me, Veva Marone. And not just me, but my mother and daughter, too. A whole line of Marone women, a class of shifter I thought would never rise from obscurity in shifter society.

My mother is across from me, sitting with Sarina at a table and laughing with her. I watch the two of them, a pinch of apprehension still coiling in my chest. But there’s something else there, too. Something I’m afraid to look at too closely.

Something like hope.

“You keep sneaking off.”

If it was anyone else, I might jump at the sound of the voice next to me, but it’s Emin, so I turn without thinking and curl into his side, letting him put his arm around me. I breathe deeply, inhaling his scent.

His scent soothes me, and I relax, shaking out the tension in my shoulders.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he grumbles, complaining about my perfume for the third time tonight. It makes me laugh, the thought that he misses my scent so much he’d bring it up again and again. “I’ll pay you next time to go without it.”

“It’s just a little perfume, Emin.”

“You don’t need perfume, Veva.”

“You are the only person here who thinks that.”

“I’m the only person with an opinion that matters,” he counters, drawing me in even closer. I breathe in his scent again, then nod against his chest, letting the flood of emotions inside me out for just a moment.

“I’m nervous that it’s not going to work,” I mutter, glancing around at all the people who are about to watch me cast. This is something more than just performance nerves—it’s the idea that my standing in this pack is tied to how and if I can pull this off.

As much as I try to tell myself that things have changed, I can’t shake the feeling that my standing is vital—that at any moment, I could be that teen girl again, so repulsive even my own mother wanted nothing to do with me.

“Hey,” Emin says, catching me under the chin and turning my face to his.

“You are amazing, Veva. Whatever you’re thinking right now, that’s not you.

And besides, you only have to make one,” Emin counters, lowering his chin and catching my gaze.

His eyes are a light brown, and they catch in the glint of the fairy light, nearly liquid.

Amber like the auroras. “Last time,” he says, “you made an entire pile.”

“With the help of a lot of other casters,” I laugh, bringing my hand up to wipe at my face, then remembering I’m wearing makeup, and I don’t want to smudge it. I lower my hand and start to worry at my dress, instead.

Emin drops his mouth to my ear. “Could I ease some of that worry with the promise of a reward later?”

Heat rushes over my cheeks as a glance up at him. “That depends,” I say, turning to him and hooking my arms around his neck, pulling our bodies together. “What exactly are you offering?”

The moment cools when Kira appears, grimacing. “Ugh, sorry guys, kissy time is over. Veva, they’re ready for you to set up the presentation.”

Cool, cutting nerves roll through me. Emin seems to sense it, running his hand the length of my arm and saying a quick, “Anything you want, baby,” into my ear before pulling back and smiling at me. “You’re going to do great.”

Kira leads me to a little stage on the far side of the roof. There’s a tiny casting table, and Dorian stands there, looking out at everyone.

“Ah, there you are.” He smiles at me. For this demonstration, Dorian is going to be the shifter I channel through, and he’s going to shift with the Amanzite when he’s finished.

Just creating a very important stone for the most important alpha in the pack. It’s not a big deal.

Normally, something like this wouldn’t get to me. But at this gathering, surrounded by all the shifters who have looked down on my family and me from the day I was born, it feels like being back in high school again.

Just wanting acceptance. Just wanting to know that I could be with Emin. Just wishing the stares and laughs and snickers didn’t hit me quite so hard.

As I turn to the casting table, I catch a flash of red hair in the front row. Kira, Emin, Sarina. My stomach turns with the resemblance between the three of them—anyone looking at Sarina with those two would know instantly that there’s a connection.

“Are you ready?” Dorian asks, and when I turn my head, meeting his gaze, it feels like he’s looking right into my soul.

I realize I’ve been in Ambersky long enough for him to gain authority over me as my alpha leader again. I know how it works—the alpha leader has a connection to all his shifters. Can see the things about them that others don’t.

And, right now, holding his gaze, without him saying a word, I know that he knows.

He knows that Sarina belongs to Emin. He knows that I’m keeping it from him. His best friend.

Without saying anything, I communicate the truth, the thing that I’ve just realized.

I’m going to tell him .

Dorian nods, slightly, then holds his hand out for me to take. I pull my magic to the surface, body bubbling with a different kind of nervous energy now. Now, I just want to get through this process, make the Amanzite, and get to Emin so I can tell him the truth about his daughter.

He deserves to know. Even if he’s angry with me for lying, I’ll tell him.

We can work through it. I’m starting to realize that with Emin, I’ll be able to work through anything.

That doing something alone just because you can doesn’t make you strong—in some ways, it makes you a coward.

Because what’s really hard, what’s really scary, is trusting someone else to be on your team.

I close my eyes, hold Dorian’s hand in mine, let him guide the spell in just the way we did with Emin.

A moment later, there’s a collective gasp, and I open my eyes to find a perfectly round, perfectly smooth pebble of Amanzite sitting on the casting table, sparkling with the imbued magic it contains.

Dorian picks it up, shows it to the crowd.

“As I’m sure many of you know, this past year has been a difficult one for this pack.

Our conflict with the Grayhides has resulted in an increased demand for Amanzite, and an increased opportunity for our enemies to hinder our ability to defend ourselves and our land.

” He pauses, holding the Amanzite up so it catches the fairy lights.

“ This is the solution to that problem. Our incredible casters—including Veva Marone here—were instrumental in bolstering our abilities, improving our security, and strengthening us as a whole. This party is to celebrate this accomplishment, our future prosperity, and also the casters who made this all possible.”

There’s a round of applause, and I feel more warmth move into my cheeks, the unfamiliarity of being recognized for something I’ve done.

“Being able to synthesize Amanzite means no more relying on trading for the stones, no more bartering. This stone works exactly as the real, natural one does, and I’ll demonstrate.”

Dorian pauses, holds the stone in his hand, then shifts.

The wolf that emerges from him is massive, frighteningly big. I’m a tall woman, and I barely stand over his shoulder. Without thinking, I take a step back. Even though he’s Dorian, and he’s the alpha leader of this pack, my body acts automatically, wanting me away from the potential danger.

My eyes snap to Sarina in the front row, her mouth hanging open, her eyes cast up to the stage in awe. Emin is laughing, his hand on her shoulder as Dorian shifts back, returning to his previous form.

He holds the stone up.

“Veva Marone, you have the gratitude of the Ambersky pack!” he calls, then turning to me, he says, voice lower, so only I can hear it, “ Your pack.”