Chapter 2

Selene unhurriedly removed her own cufflinks and watch.

Identical in design to what I'd just thrown on the ground.

But the quality — the weight, the finish — was incomparable.

She met my gaze and smiled, her tone perfectly light.

"Ethan gave them to me. Said they were one-of-a-kind."

My breath stopped. I turned to look at my husband.

He didn't meet my eyes. His gaze dropped to the floor.

My heart seized. I pulled in a slow breath, forced my voice low and flat.

"Ethan. Everything I've been wearing — all of it was fake?"

He finally looked up. His expression was soft, almost coaxing.

"Selene is young. She loves pretty things. Is it so hard to just let her have them?"

Let her have them.

Four words. Weightless. Like soothing a child throwing a tantrum.

Selene tilted her head toward him, obedient and sweet.

"Ethan, Rowan did mean well… let's just say those were real and move three cars. Okay?"

Three supercars at the outer perimeter rolled aside.

But the gap they left wasn't wide enough for a single person to squeeze through.

Ethan looked at me.

His eyes settled on my face, and he frowned slightly — like he was weighing something.

Then, in the same gentle tone he used to reserve only for me:

"Rowan. If you kneel down and give Selene a proper apology… we'll call it even."

I looked into his eyes, and for a moment, I almost laughed.

On our bonding day, he had refused to let me kneel even before his own parents.

Now he was asking me to kneel before the woman he was sleeping with. In front of a crowd.

He seemed to sense something. His gaze lingered on my eyes — just for a second — and his lips parted.

Then my phone went off.

A message. A photo attached.

My mother, on the operating table. Tubes everywhere. Blood-soaked sheets.

【Ms. Ashford — you have ten minutes. Dr. Ashford is going into shock.】

The ground fell out from under me.

I almost said yes. I almost opened my mouth —

Then Selene reached out and tugged lightly at Ethan's sleeve. Her eyes dropped to the pendant at my throat.

She smiled, gentle as ever.

"Rowan doesn't want to kneel — that's fine. We can keep moving cars… that pendant looks lovely, though. Maybe start with that?"

My hand flew up instinctively, closing around the fang pendant.

My father had left it to me.

During the wildfire that swept through our territory, I had been trapped in the Pack shelter.

He had run back into the smoke to find me. The fire took him before he got out.

In his last moment, he had pressed the pendant into my palm.

His lips moved. Three words.

Stay alive, Rowan.

My knuckles went white.

I thought of my mother bleeding out on that table, and something in my chest cracked open.

I raised my head and fixed my gaze on Ethan.

Word by word:

"And you, Ethan, do you think I should give this up too?"