Chapter 3

“Alex. It really is you.”

Sophia reached for my hand, her smile softening into something that might have passed for pity.

“What happened to you? Come and sit down. You must be exhausted.”

Before her fingers reached mine, I pulled my right hand behind my back.

“Don’t touch me.”

She stopped. Her hand remained suspended between us for a moment before she drew it against her chest.

“Rowan, I was only trying to help.”

Her eyes shone with tears.

His expression hardened.

“She’s showing you kindness, Alex. Is that really how you’re going to respond?”

I said nothing.

“Five years outside the pack, and you’ve forgotten how to behave.”

I pressed my lips together. Behind my back, my damaged fingers had begun to throb.

Rowan took a small black token from his coat. The Ashford crest was stamped into its face, allowing its bearer to charge purchases to the pack treasury.

He tossed it at my feet.

It struck the stone and skidded against my boot.

“Enough of this. Buy yourself something suitable and get cleaned up.”

His gaze moved over my clothes again.

“You’re not embarrassing me at the benefit tonight.”

I looked at the token.

Once, merchants had hurried to serve me when I carried that token. Now he had thrown it at my feet.

“Well?” he asked. “You want more?”

I didn’t move.

“Know when to stop, Alex. Be civil to Sophia. Make an effort, and I might consider letting you back into this family.”

He adjusted his cuff.

“And bring your daughter when you come.”

My head snapped up.

“Sophia’s agreed to help raise her,” he continued. “She’s willing to treat the girl as her own. You could at least be grateful.”

For a moment, I couldn’t feel the floor beneath my feet.

Bring her.

As though Lily were waiting in my rented room. As though I could go home, fasten her cloak, and lead her back through these gates.

He thought she was alive.

After that blizzard.

After he had ordered his driver to put Lily and me out of his carriage so he could go to Sophia. Lily had been two years old, burning with fever. The road had already begun to disappear beneath the snow.

He had never even checked.

My body began to shake. I locked my knees, trying to keep it from showing.

“What now?” Rowan demanded. “You think Sophia would hurt her?”

Beside him, Sophia lowered her eyes.

“You always did assume the worst of her. She’s offering your daughter a home.”

I tried to close my right hand. Pain shot through the stiff joints. I stopped before the cramp could take hold.

“My daughter won’t be coming.”

The words scraped my throat.

His eyes narrowed.

“Don’t test me. I’m offering that little brat a place in my pack, and you dare to stand there and act as though—”

“Rowan Ashford.”

He stopped.

I bent down and picked up the token.

“I’ll be there tonight.”

I straightened slowly, keeping my eyes on the door.

Behind me, Sophia murmured, “Don’t be angry. This must be difficult for her. Give her time.”

I walked out before I heard his answer.

Beyond the keep’s outer gates, a refuse cart stood beside the road. I dropped the treasury token among the ashes and spoiled scraps.

Then I wiped my fingers on my cloak.

I couldn’t bear to keep touching it.

By the time I reached my rented room above the cooper’s workshop, the light was beginning to fade.

I pulled a wooden chest from beneath the bed.

My red gown lay at the bottom, wrapped in an old sheet. I had worn it for my solo recital at the Moon Court five years ago, when the great hall had been full and my hands had still obeyed me.

I lifted it into the light.

A mouse had chewed through the hem. Mildew freckled the lining, and the silk smelled of damp wood.

I spread it across the bed and found my sewing things.

My left hand guided the needle. My right held the fabric as best it could, trembling whenever I tried to pull it taut. The stitches wandered. Twice, I had to stop and wait for the cramping to ease.

Someone pounded on the door.

Before I had fully opened it, Chloe pushed inside.

Her eyes were swollen. Cold air followed her into the room.

“Alex.”

She caught me in a fierce embrace, then pulled back, gripping my shoulders.

“I found him.”

“Who?”

“The man who drove your carriage that night.”

I went still.

She looked at the gown on the bed, then at the needle caught between my fingers.

“He says the wreck wasn’t an accident. The axle had been tampered with.”

Her voice shook so badly she had to stop.

“Tell me.”

“Rowan ordered your saddle girth cut. The driver heard him give the order. He knew you’d have to take the carriage.”

I remembered the leather giving way beneath me. The waiting carriage. Someone helping me inside while I clutched my injured hand against my chest.

“The driver saw one of Rowan’s men working on the axle before you left,” Chloe said. “Rowan ordered him down the mountain road. The men after Sophia recognized the Ashford crest and followed you instead.”

The room seemed to grow very quiet.

“He used you as a decoy, Alex.”

She gripped my left hand.

“The driver will give a statement to the pack council. I made sure of that before I came.”

The needle slipped into my fingertip.

I watched a bead of blood gather against the metal.

For five years, I had blamed the icy road and the failed axle. I had never imagined Rowan had sent me down that road knowing what would happen.

Now there was an answer.

I gave a small, unsteady smile.

“All right.”

Chloe stared at me.

“Alex?”

I set the needle down.

“Help me dress. Please.”

She glanced at the red silk.

“You’re still going?”

“Yes. And I’ll need help with my face.”

My reflection in the little mirror above the washstand looked pale and unfamiliar.

“Tonight, I’m done pretending there’s anything left to save.”

The benefit was held in the assembly hall beside Bluewater Keep, where visiting Alphas were entertained.

Crystal chandeliers burned with enchanted light. Servants carried silver trays between the guests, and a tower of sparkling wine stood beneath the Ashford banners.

I entered wearing the repaired red gown.

The nearest conversation stopped. Then another.

Heads turned as I crossed the threshold.

I recognized that pause. Once, it had come just before I sat down at a piano.

The gown was years out of fashion. Its hem hung unevenly, and the dark stitches showed wherever the silk caught the light.

I stepped farther into the hall.