Kacen went still. “Was that…?”
“Yeah,” I said, moving to the front door.
We both stepped onto the porch. There, near the edge of the trees, stood a massive wolf, his coat a deep silver-gray. His head tilted slightly, his eyes watching us with eerie calm. Hades. Mustang Mountain’s unofficial guardian and mascot.
He didn’t move, just stood there like some ancient sentinel.
Kacen let out a low breath. “I haven’t seen him in years.”
“You haven’t been here in years.” The wolf held my gaze. I didn’t move. Neither did he. There was something about the moment I couldn’t explain. Like he was waiting for me to make a choice. Then, without warning, Hades turned and disappeared into the trees.
Kacen glanced at me. “Do you believe in signs?”
I didn’t answer, because I wasn’t sure I had to.
We watched the spot in the tree line where Hades had disappeared for a few long beats. Then I turned to head back inside. Kacen followed a few seconds later. The tension between us had eased.
“It’s all going to work out.” My brother clapped me on the shoulder. “If anyone deserves another chance, it’s you.”
“We’ll see,” I mumbled.
He left shortly after that, and I wandered around the cabin thinking about what I wanted to say to Scarlett. Not what I thought I should say, but what I’d say to her I had the guts to be totally honest. Then I sat down at my kitchen table and cradled my head in my hands.
I thought about the Christmas celebration. The one they held in the square every year. Scarlett and I had gone together once. I’d kissed her under the tree. Told her I wanted forever. This time, I would mean it with everything I had.
The town might not forgive me, but I wouldn’t let them forget what I’d done to try to save it. And I wouldn’t let her forget that she was always my reason.
Scarlett
By the time I turned off Main Street and climbed the stairs to my apartment, my fingertips were stiff from the cold and my heart felt like it had been dragged across the mountain. I sent Kingston a quick text to let him know I made it, then set my phone on the nightstand and didn’t even bother turning on the lights. The soft glow from the streetlamps below filtered through the blinds, enough for me to kick off my boots and sink down onto the edge of my bed. I’d been home less than five minutes and already the silence was unbearable.
I’d left Kingston because Ihadto. Because if I stayed one more minute inside that cabin, wrapped in his arms, drowning in his regret, tempted by every inch of him, I would have burrowed into his chest and forgotten every reason I had to be angry. Walking away felt like ripping out the last piece of myself I didn’t know he still held.
I tugged the blankets tighter around me, but the cold wasn’t what made me shiver. It was remembering the look on his face when I walked out. Like he was bracing for me to disappear forever. Like he expected it. Like he’d always expected it.
My phone vibrated against the nightstand. For a second my heart jumped, thinking it might be him. It wasn’t.
Ruby You home? Everyone’s buzzing. Please tell me you’re okay.
I typed back slowly.
Me: I’m fine. Just tired.
Ruby: Liar. Come down for cocoa. I won’t pry. Much.
That made me smile, but I shook my head.
Me: Not tonight. I need space.
Ruby: Space is overrated. Call if you change your mind.
I set my phone down again and pulled my knees up, resting my forehead against them. The flannel sheets Kingston had on his bed were warmer than these. They smelled like fabric softener and cedar and him. My brain might know I needed toput distance between us, but my heart was still up in that cabin, hoping for another chance.
The truth was, part of me wanted him to come after me. That was the pathetic part. The human part. The part that remembered being seventeen, sneaking into the back of his truck under a blanket of stars with a boy who whispered forever like it was a promise he could hold in his hands.
But the man he was now… he was different. Broken. Burdened. Beautiful in a way that scared me. And yet I couldn’t stop wanting him.
My breath stuttered when I remembered the way he looked standing in his kitchen last night. How the shadows clung to him. How vulnerable he’d been telling the truth. The scar. The letter. The way he touched me like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to.
