Page 28

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TILDA

M y feelings are mixed as we draw closer to Homestead. I thought I would be excited—eager to see my sister again, for the most part. But I can’t shake the dread sitting like a stone in the pit of my stomach, the feeling that this is a very bad idea.

For one thing, I feel like an idiot. It hadn’t even occurred to me that the people I lived with just a few weeks ago might have an issue with Reyes. He’s diplomatic enough to sway the worst of them, I’m sure, but he shouldn’t have to do that. I’m putting him in a horrible situation.

They could hurt him. They could hurt me, and even Enid, if they don’t like what I’ve done.

“You don’t think we should turn back, do you?” I ask, chewing on my lip.

He glances over at me, looming large as sunlight filters through the trees and illuminating the silver in his hair. He’s wearing a white button-up, denim, cowboy boots–he looks like the consummate Texan man, coming home to meet the parents.

So why the hell am I so afraid?

His brow furrows in confusion. “Do you?”

“I’m just…thinking more and more about this, and I wonder if I wanted to see Enid so badly that I let my judgement slip,” I say. “The people in Homestead—they aren’t kind, Reyes. No matter how badly you want to help them, they might still say no.”

“Which is why you’re going to ride ahead to see if they’ll talk,” he says. “That’s the plan, right? Head up to the gates, call out to them, and see if they’ll negotiate. If they won’t, then they won’t, and we’ll find some other way to deliver insulin to the settlement.”

“They might already know we’re coming,” I say. Despite myself, I’ve started whispering—like someone might be in the woods, listening. “If they’ve been watching, and there’s still a price on your head…”

“I don’t mean to be morbid, but you saw me take out those bounty hunters a few weeks ago,” he says. “I can shift fast enough to fight them if it comes down to it, but I doubt it will. We’re all just people, after all.”

That’s the problem, though.

They might not even think he’s a person.

“We can find another way to contact them,” I murmur. “Tap into the Host’s network? Get a hold of them via extranet…?”

“Tilda,” Reyes says, his voice measured. He pulls his horse closer and I pause as he puts his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

The horses are calm. Birds sing in the live oaks overhead, not a care in the world.

We’re okay.

So why do I feel like we need to run?

Homestead is just on the other side of the woods, and we reach the edge of the Celestial Curtain by early afternoon. The sunlight fades as we approach, the world dimming into the eerie red haze of the Curtain. Everything is cast in rose gold, the light unnatural and oppressive.

I used to find some comfort in it—back when I thought the Heavenly Host had come to protect us. But now, it just reminds me how much has changed. How much I’ve changed. I don’t belong here anymore. Not really.

I glance at Reyes, and though he hasn’t said anything, I know this place weakens him. His lycan abilities are muted under the Curtain, like a flame struggling against a lack of oxygen. If the people of Homestead catch on to that, if they see him as a threat…

Well, it wouldn’t end well. For either of us.

I clear my throat, breaking the heavy silence. “Stay here,” I say, gesturing toward the edge of the woods. I slide off Annie’s back, my boots crunching on the forest floor as I dismount. I tie her reins to a tree, smoothing a hand over her neck. “I’ll go ahead and bring out a few people—Enid, and the town’s mayor, Patrick.”

Reyes nods and follows suit, dismounting his horse and tying it beside Annie. His movements are deliberate, calm, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. “I don’t want to look threatening,” he says, keeping his voice low, “but if this goes sideways, I won’t hesitate to shift. Just give me a signal.”

I blink at him, caught off guard. “What signal?”

He frowns, clearly thinking. “Don’t know. Any ideas?”

I chew on my lip, considering. “How about I call you Father Garza?” I suggest. “If I say that, it means it’s time to get serious and get out of here.”

He nods, but his eyes darken with concern. “And what about you?” he asks, his voice hard.

I hesitate, then force myself to meet his gaze. “If it comes down to it, I want you to leave me behind.”

His expression sharpens, his jaw clenching. “No.”

“They won’t hurt me,” I insist. “But they won’t hesitate to kill you, Reyes. If it looks like there’s no way to get us both out, you run . You can always come back for me with the rest of the pack.”

He crosses his arms, glaring at me with a mix of frustration and something deeper. “I’m not leaving you behind,” he says firmly. “End of discussion.”

“Reyes—”

“No,” he cuts me off, his voice low and unyielding. “I’m not abandoning you, Tilda. Not now. Not ever.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “You think things are going to go fine?”

“I’m an optimist,” he says, a small, crooked smile softening the tension between us. “And I think we’re going to be okay.”

His confidence is almost contagious, but the knot of dread in my stomach refuses to loosen. Before I can say anything else, he steps closer and cups my face in his hands. His lips crash into mine, the kiss deep and steady, grounding me in the moment.

I cling to him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, as if I can anchor us together. As if that connection will keep us safe. Keep us whole.

When he pulls back, his eyes search mine, dark and serious. “Good luck,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “I hope so.”

I go on foot to the gates of Homestead, wading through the field of tall grasses. I catch sight of the barbed wire fence a moment later, a grey line over the scarlet prairie. Someone is standing in the watchtower with a rifle in their hand, the red pinpoint of its sights suddenly landing on my chest.

I freeze and raise my hands.

“It’s me!” I call out, hoping they can hear me. “I’m back!”

The red dot lingers on me, the sniper’s sights steady for a moment longer. My breath hitches, and I resist the urge to raise my hands again, to make myself smaller somehow. Another figure joins the person in the watchtower, silhouetted against the faint rose glow of the Curtain. They exchange a few gestures I can’t make out. Then, mercifully, the dot vanishes.

I let out a slow, controlled breath and take another step forward, each movement cautious and deliberate. Then another. When no shots ring out, I pick up my pace, striding across the prairie toward the gates.

The massive wooden doors creak open, just wide enough for someone to step through. My heart kicks into overdrive as I spot a familiar figure on the other side. Enid.

She looks smaller than I remember, her frame still wiry and energetic but thinner, her face framed by loose strands of her dark hair. For a second, she freezes, like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. Then, with a cry, she sprints toward me, her feet pounding against the dry earth.

I barely have time to brace myself before she launches into my arms, nearly knocking me off balance. “Tilda!” she gasps, her voice high and breathless as her arms lock around my neck. “Oh my God, Tilda! How are you here?”

Her tears are immediate, soaking into the fabric of my shirt as she clings to me. I huff out a shaky laugh, overwhelmed by relief and guilt and a thousand other emotions I can’t even name. I’m not a crier—but Enid always has been, her emotions raw and unguarded, spilling out of her like sunlight on a cloudy day.

I tighten my arms around her, burying my face in her hair for a moment. “Enid,” I murmur, my voice cracking despite myself. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

“I thought you were dead,” she says, her words muffled against my shoulder. She pulls back just enough to look at me, her face streaked with tears, her hands clutching my jacket. “Tilda, what happened? Where did you go?”

“I’ll explain everything,” I say, brushing a hand through her hair. My voice is firm but soft. “But we have to hurry. Is Mayor McAllen here?”

Her brows knit together, concern replacing her initial relief. “Yeah, he’s here. But…wait.” She glances back toward the gates, then back at me. “Did they just let you go? What happened?”

I glance over her shoulder at the gate, where a small group has gathered, their expressions wary and curious as they take me in. I recognize some of their faces—neighbors, friends, people I grew up with. People who trusted me.

“They didn’t have to,” I say softly, bringing my attention back to Enid. “Listen… I’ve learned a few things about the Austin pack, and I’ve decided I’m going to stay with them. I want you to come with me.”

Her reaction is immediate. She flinches, her brows knitting together in confusion as she takes a step back. “What?”

“They have a clinic,” I explain quickly, my voice low but urgent. “Resources, medicine—things we’ve never had. And they’re not…they’re not who we thought they were. They’re not the monsters we were told about.”

“Tilda, what are you talking about?” Her voice is rising, the panic creeping into her tone.

I take a step forward, reaching for her hand. “I know it’s hard to understand, but I’m starting to think we’ve been on the wrong side. They want to make a deal with us—a real partnership. They’ll provide medical supplies, insulin, vaccines, in exchange for livestock and fresh produce?—”

She jerks her hand away, shaking her head so hard her hair flies around her face. “No. No way.” She takes another step back, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and anger. “Did they hypnotize you or something?”

“Enid, stop,” I say, my voice firm, but I can feel my stomach twisting. This isn’t going the way I hoped.

“I’m serious!” she snaps, her voice cracking. “Tilda, rebels killed our parents. Are you really going to forgive them for that?”

My heart lurches, the old wound ripping open at her words. It’s a scar I’ve never told Reyes about–not when my side did so much worse to his family. “That was a long time ago,” I say, but my voice falters. “Things have changed. People have changed.”

Her eyes flash with anger as she shakes her head again, more furiously this time. “Not for me, they haven’t,” she says. “Not for Mayor McAllen, either. You know he’s never going to go for this, right?”

My chest tightens, a sinking weight pressing down on me. “Enid,” I say softly, stepping closer again. “You’re too important to me for me to just…give up on you. I can’t leave you here.”

Her expression shifts, hurt flashing in her eyes before they harden again. “Is that what you’re saying? That it’s me or the rebellion?” Her voice is quiet now, trembling with barely restrained emotion.

I open my mouth, but no words come out. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, a familiar sensation prickling down my spine. My pulse quickens, and I glance back toward the woods.

Reyes is coming closer.

I turn, my breath catching as I watch him stride through the tall grass, his movements steady and purposeful. I can feel it—the calm, the grace, the certainty he carries with him. It reaches me even from a distance, grounding me in the storm of my emotions.

But I know the others don’t feel that.

All they see is a massive man emerging from the woods, his broad shoulders cutting an imposing figure against the backdrop of the trees. His amber eyes, the most alien part of him when he’s in his human form, seem to pierce right through the crowd gathering at the gate. The watchtower’s rifle swings to track him, the red dot of the laser sight landing squarely on his chest.

It takes the breath right out of me. “No,” I breathe.

We’re already in too deep to escape, even if we wanted to…and the man I love is in their crosshairs.