Chapter 1

I was grinding herbs in the apothecary when the message crystal beside my mortar flashed.

Someone was requesting access to my private channel.

“Are you done making a scene? If you are, come home.”

I recognized the sender’s seal. So did my wolf. She stirred briefly, then settled again.

Alpha Rowan Ashford. My former mate.

Attached to his seal was an image of me dancing at the Winter Moon gathering years ago. White silk, bare feet, his pack’s crest fastened at my throat. I hadn’t realized he’d kept it.

I looked at the girl in the image and laughed.

Five years.

I’d crossed three pack territories and built a life somewhere no one knew me as his mate. Apparently, he considered all of that a prolonged tantrum.

Of course he did.

Rowan had never needed to ask me twice. Once, a word from him would have brought me running through the forest, regardless of the weather or the hour.

He probably expected the same girl to answer.

Even now, I could picture him sitting behind his oak desk, impatient with the delay. He would be certain I’d read his message. Certain I was waiting for him to say the right thing.

I brushed the powdered herbs from my fingers and pressed my thumb to the crystal, accepting the connection.

His next message appeared almost immediately.

“Which territory are you in? I’ll come get you.”

I waited for something to hurt.

His name. The familiar assumption that he could decide when I came and went.

Nothing did.

A customer’s fever remedy was cooling beside my elbow. Outside, someone was unloading firewood for the shop. I had an ordinary afternoon to finish.

I sent two words.

“No need.”

Then I blocked his seal, tucked the crystal beneath the counter, and went back to work.

……

“Alex!”

Frank’s shout carried through the apothecary, followed by the clang of an iron pestle against a cauldron.

“Are you listening to me? That burn salve should have gone to the border patrol an hour ago. If you don’t want the work, there’s the door.”

I said nothing. I set the powdered herbs aside and bent over the salve.

The mixture had thickened while I read Rowan’s messages. I wedged the bowl against the workbench and worked it with my left hand, breaking up the clumps.

A drop of warm resin splashed onto my cheek.

I wiped it away with my sleeve. The wool dragged grit over my skin, and sweat stung my eyes.

So this was the scene Rowan Ashford thought I was making.

Five years of it.

I had just scraped the last of the salve into its jar when my message crystal pulsed beneath the counter.

Chloe’s seal flashed across its surface.

The moment I opened the channel, her voice came through.

“Alex, you need to leave. Now. Rowan’s trackers have been searching the settlements in the valley. Someone told them you’re working at the South Gate apothecary.”

I set down the jar.

“His guards crossed the eastern boundary ten minutes ago. They’re coming straight to you.”

I looked at my hands. Dark resin had settled beneath my nails. No amount of scrubbing ever seemed to get it all out.

“Let them come.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

Her breathing was quick and uneven.

“After what happened last time, you’re really going to let him take you back?”

“Chloe.”

She fell silent.

My gaze dropped to my right hand.

A pale scar stretched from the base of my thumb across the back of it. My index and middle fingers remained bent, their joints swollen beneath the skin. When I tried to straighten them, they barely moved.

My wolf had healed what she could. There were limits, even for us.

Once, that hand had carried a melody through the Moon Court’s great hall. Alphas from seven territories had sat beneath its silver chandeliers to hear me play.

Now I had to close jars with my left hand.

“I grind herbs for a living,” I said. “What else does he think he can take?”

“Alex, please.”

“I have to finish this order.”

I closed the channel before she could answer.

The crystal flashed again.

A message appeared under an unfamiliar seal. I recognized the voice behind it before I reached the end.

“Finished sulking? There’s a benefit at the pack house tonight. Sophia needs someone to turn her sheet music. You’ll do it.”

A second message arrived before I could put the crystal down.

“Don’t be ungrateful. I’m giving you a way back. Be at the gates by seven.”

Sophia.

A sharp, familiar pain traveled through my damaged fingers.

Five years ago, Rowan had gone out into a blizzard because she had called for him.

I remembered his carriage door slamming shut, the snow blowing into my face, my own voice begging him to stay.

He had told the driver to go.

I erased both messages.

For a moment, I stood with my palm flat against the counter, waiting for the pain to ease. Then I put the crystal away and crossed the shop.

“Frank. I need the rest of the day.”

His head snapped up.

“The rest of the day? You’ve already missed two shifts this month. Those patrol remedies aren’t going to prepare themselves. If you walk out before they’re done, you can forget about coming back.”

“My daughter died five years ago today.”

He stopped with his mouth still open.

Behind him, the cauldron bubbled. A coal shifted in the hearth.

His gaze traveled over my stained apron and the resin drying on my sleeve. At last, he looked away.

“Go, then. Be here at dawn tomorrow.”

I nodded.

“And I’m taking five silver marks out of your wages.”

In the storeroom, I peeled off my apron and washed my hands. The water ran brown. The stains remained.

I pulled on the faded wool cloak hanging from my peg, then went to the stable behind the shop.

The old mare lifted her head when I approached.

I saddled her and took the western road out of town.

Cold wind slipped beneath my collar. At the edge of town, the road narrowed to a trail through dead grass and bare trees.

An hour later, I dismounted at the edge of a barren field.