Page 24

I slam the front door so hard, the windows rattle.

Nora turns, looking at me like she doesn’t know me.

Likely because I’ve never done something like that, never let anger get to me like that.

Right now, my hands shake with rage and heartbreak, and I feel the emotion coursing through me like a substance all its own, like it’s replaced the blood in my circulatory system.

There’s only one other time in my life I’ve felt something like this—after Xeran rejected me in front of all those people. And what happened after that only made things much, much worse.

How could I have been so stupid a second time? How could I let myself believe that Xeran changed? That he might change his mind about magic?

Something that I’ve come to realize about magic is that it’s a part of me. It runs through my veins, just like this anger. And I can’t separate the two.

It’s what I tried to do in high school.

As long as I’m a magic wielder, and as long as I refuse to hide that fact, I will never be good enough for him. He’ll see me exactly the same way the rest of the town does—like something dirty. Something shameful.

Something to be hidden away in his house, but never seen in the light of day.

“Mom?” Nora asks, her eyes wide and blinking fast, either from the smoke or from disbelief. That color so much like Xeran’s, it makes me ache. She’s still clutching that stupid stuffed shark to her chest like a flotation device on a sinking ship. “What is going on?”

“Pack your things,” I say, voice shaking as I turn and start to pace in the living room. “Go upstairs and pack your things.”

“But our bags are in the truck—”

“Look for another bag,” I snap without meaning to. “There are more in the closets, I’m sure. We need to take what we can and go.”

“But what about Xeran?”

“What about him?” I turn to her, shaking my head as I wildly grab one of her books from the table and stuff it into a tote bag like this is the most important thing for me to pack. “I told you this was temporary, Nora. Please, do as I say.”

I start to turn, to head to the kitchen and gather up canned food we can bring along with us, but that’s when the scent hits me.

It’s barely noticeable. Subtle at first, hidden beneath the penetrating smoke and Xeran’s charred, sweet scent that clings to everything in this house.

But still, it’s there. Unmistakable. Terrifying.

It’s Nora’s true scent. Rich and complex, carrying notes of both Xeran and me. Hints of alpha dominance that point to her biology, sweet notes of my own scent, and something that every single person in this town would identify as Sorel instantly.

“No,” I breathe, head snapping up to her. “No, no, no.”

“What’s wrong?” she asks, taking a step back, her eyes meeting mine. And I can see in them that she knows exactly what’s wrong.

“You stopped taking your pills,” I say, staring at her in disbelief.

She shrugs one shoulder. “They ran out.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I forgot.”

“You’re lying , Nora.” I step closer to her, my hands shaking as they hold the tote bag with a single book. “We promised that we would never lie to each other—”

“You’ve been lying to me since we got here!” she interjects, finally dropping the shark.

Her face is caught somewhere between fear and anger, and it’s so starkly clear that she’s just a kid. A kid always acting older than her age. Required to act older than her age, and now arguing with me like a teenager.

“You said Xeran was your friend. And you said I should stay away from him. But he’s nice , and he’s smart!”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s nice, Nora, you have to listen to me—”

“And he’s my dad , isn’t he?”

Chills run down my back. She knew. Nora figured out the purpose of the pills, and she purposefully made the decision to stop taking them. She wanted Xeran to smell her scent, to figure it out.

The realization hits me like a physical blow.

My scheming, brilliant, too-smart daughter, deliberately sabotaging the protection I spent a decade weaving around her.

“You have no idea what you’re doing, Nora,” I whisper. “If he finds out, he’ll—”

“What? Take me to the aquarium? Teach me how to be a good alpha? Is it so bad that I just want a dad?”

I want to scream, Yes!

Because wanting things from Xeran Sorel has only ever hurt me. And I can’t be sure that he’ll want us, or that he’ll be proud about owning us. Would he hide Nora away in this house, keep her as the product of his secret love affair?

And what if he eventually meets his real mate? Has children with her ?

The thought threatens to rip my heart from my chest. As does looking at Nora’s tear-stained face, the pure devastation that sits on her features.

“Just…” I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Just go pack your things. Now, please. We can talk about this in the car.”

Nora hesitates for a moment, but then she turns and climbs the stairs, leaving me alone in the dim living room, trying to figure out what in the world I’m going to do.

***

I sit on the couch for ten minutes, staring at the tote bag in my hand, trying to figure out what I’m going to say to her.

Outside, I can feel the pressing heat of the fire, but I can also feel how my wards are holding against it.

They’re stronger than anything I’ve managed before.

Maybe if I could have cast wards like this on my grandmother’s house, it would still be standing.

But then, of course, our neighbors would have thrown Molotov cocktails through the windows out of spite for the fact that our house managed to survive when theirs didn’t.

I force myself to my feet and move into the bathroom, putting our toothbrushes and the small bag of toiletries in Nora’s backpack, which still sits under the bathroom sink. Everything we own—other than the clothes Nora is packing upstairs—is in this bag.

It’s oddly liberating. No ties, no baggage weighing us down. When I get up there, I’ll take the money Xeran has given me and tuck it into my bra, and we can use it to head to the Midwest.

Where there are no wildfires. Where things are cheaper, and we can start over.

“Nora?” I call when I feel like a decent amount of time has passed. I’ll tell her everything in the car. The full truth about Xeran’s rejection of me, and what it means for me and her. How I’ve been making the best decisions I can for the two of us.

She doesn’t answer, and I climb up the steps, nearing our room and finding the door shut. I close my eyes and picture her inside, clutching the shark to her chest, so little and so mature at once.

Knocking softly, I say, “Nora? Are you done packing? I think it’s time to go.”

Just a few weeks ago, she and I were making our way through the woods. A team, solid and together, working to get away. Just a few weeks ago, it was never a question of whether or not Nora would do what I told her to do.

Now, I push the door open, a chill running down my spine despite the heat.

“Nora?” I call again when I don’t see her. Is she under the bed? Sitting at the desk? In the en suite bathroom?

No. She’s not in any of those places. I check the closet and under the bed again, starting to cough from the smoke.

“Nora!” I call, dropping the tote bag and turning in a circle. “This isn’t funny!”

That’s when I realize something—I’m coughing because of the smoke.

The smoke coming in through the open sliding door, leading to the balcony. The same balcony that we snuck from when we tried to leave together.

At first, I think she’s out there, but when I wrench the door open, saying her name, there’s nothing on the balcony but the stuffed shark lying on its side just beside the metal railing.

Nothing but that, and the scents of mint and gasoline hanging in the air.