I crept up the cellar stairs and pressed myself to the wooden door so I could peer through the small window set into it, and my breath caught.
There was a wolf in the kitchen.
A black wolf that sent me reeling back to seven years ago. The sight of it lunging for the ifrit, of claws and flame meeting in a disastrous clash. The two creatures crashed around in my kitchen, and, stupidly, all I could think of—all perhaps my defense mechanisms let me think of—that is not Jackson.
I was frozen as I watched the wolf fight off the ifrit, dodging a ball of flames, before he pounced on the creature. I didn’t understand. Why would he come here with Jackson? Why would he come to my rescue?
Why was he fighting a demon to protect me?
I never thought I’d see him again—I had hoped not to see him again, even though when I dreamed of him, I woke up with a longing that was unbearable—yet there he was. Moments before his jaws clamped down on the ifrit’s neck, the ifrit disappeared through a scorch mark on the floor.
The wolf slowly turned to me, already knowing I was there.
And when he shifted, I got a glimpse of the man who had broken my heart for the first time in seven years.
Mason Warwick.
Cassie’s father.
He had no sooner shifted when more men piled into my house, and my entire body was rooted to the spot. Someone tossed the recently-shifted Mason clothes that he hurriedly put on, and I dared not even look away from his eyes as he dressed himself.
Time stopped as he walked towards the cellar door.
After all these years… he was there. He was moments away from opening the door to face me. To me, facinghim.
And I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to explain my escape from Honeycreek, Cassie, or my heartbreak. I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t ready—
Mason opened the door, and how had I forgotten how tall he was? I barely came up to his chin, and he looked down at me, his expression unreadable. I couldn’t tell if he was angry at seeing me, coming to rescue me, or at the ifrit. But either way, that singular had anxiety curling through me.
Who’d ever love a girl like you, Bryce?
Who would?
It was something I’d asked myself a thousand times over, yet something told me that he had. Maybe not properly, and maybe only for one beautiful afternoon, but hehad. And then he’d broken my heart.
I steeled myself.
“Mason.”
“Bryce.”
My voice didn’t shake as I feared it would, but the moment was quickly moved on when his eyes went past me to the little girl dusting herself off by the boxes.
“Momma, are we safe?” she asked, rushing up to me.
Everything in me stilled.Please don’t figure it out. Please don’t. I’m not ready to share her yet.
I’d have happily lived my life without Mason Warwick not finding out about his daughter, yet there he was, standing before us both, and the twisted version of a family stance hit me. He didn’t know it was her birthday, had made choices that meant he hadn’t been present in any of her life.
I swallowed.
If Mason suspected he was her father, he didn’t show it. He only looked uncomfortable, as if the thought of me having had a child with someone else didn’t sit right with him, as he reached out for us both. After a moment, he pulled back.
“Is your… husband in the house?” he asked. “We need to make sure nobody’s left behind.”
“I don’t have a husband,” I answered him tightly. Angrily, sure, it was just to find out more. “It’s just me.”
“And your daughter.”
