“Hey, Lark.”
Ruby’s voice cut through the noise. “You okay, honey? You’ve dropped that towel twice.”
I blinked, realizing she was right. The towel lay at my feet, forgotten.
“Long night,” I said quickly, forcing a smile I didn’t quite feel.
Ruby frowned, concern creasing her face, but she didn’t press. She was good like that. Gave space when someone needed it.
She hesitated, then reached into her pocket. “Hey… a man gave me this earlier. Made me promise I’d give it to you when you were alone.”
My chest tightened.
I took the folded note, my first instinct to look for Chain out of habit alone. The office door was shut. The hallway empty.
I unfolded it.
Meet me tomorrow evening at the Day’s Inn a block over. Remember—don’t tell anyone. Z.
The words blurred for a second before snapping back into focus.
I folded the note carefully and slid it into my pocket, my hands shaking just enough that I had to clench them into fists. Torn didn’t even begin to cover it.
Ruby touched my arm. “You need a break, take one. I’ll cover your tables.”
“Thanks,” I murmured.
I slipped out the back door, the night air hitting my skin like relief. The sounds of the bar dulled behind me, replaced by the distant roar of cars on the highway and the low buzz of the city settling into night.
I leaned against the brick wall and closed my eyes.
Zach’s voice echoed in my head.
They’re rebuilding, Lark. A new Shepherd has taken the Circle.
It sounded impossible. Unreal. Like a nightmare I’d dragged into the daylight with me. But the look in his eyes that morning—haunted, urgent, fierce—had been real. And I’d promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone.
Not even Chain.
The guilt burned hotter than the night air. Because Chain trusted me. He didn’t hand that out easily. He believed in loyalty the way other people believed in religion—absolute, unyielding. He fought for what he loved, and when he chose, he chose all the way. And suddenly I realized something that scared me more than Zach’s warning.
The pull I felt toward Zach wasn’t the same anymore.
What I felt for Zach lived in my head, old instincts, old wounds, a love shaped by fear.
What I felt for Chain lived in my body. In the way my chest tightened when he walked away. In the way the world calmed when he touched me. That kind of feeling didn’t let you hide.
And here I was, smiling in his bar, sleeping in his bed, lying to him with every breath. I looked down at my hands, the faint scars across my palms catching the light. A reminder of what blind faith had once cost me. Of what trusting the wrong people could do.
A sound behind me made me jump.
The alley was mostly empty—dumpsters, shadows, the flicker of the security light—but near the far corner, just beyond the glow, a shape lingered. Still. Watching.
My breath caught.
For a heartbeat, I thought it might be Zach again.
Then I blinked, and the space was empty.
