I go north, toward the alphas’ scouts. Toward danger. Toward the only choice that keeps Violet safe.
The wind shifts.
Their scent hits me—anger, steel, wolf musk, silver oil, adrenaline.
I burst into their clearing.
Seven wolves stop mid-stride. Their hackles raise, teeth bare. The air thickens with the intent to kill.
I hold my hands up.
“I’m here to surrender,” I call out. My voice does not shake. “Take me to the alphas.”
The biggest wolf steps forward, lips curling.
No one speaks.
And then he lunges.
The world goes black.
Chapter 22
Violet
My phone is ringing.
I register the thin, insistent melody, far too loud for how warm and heavy I feel under the blankets. I reach out sleepily, patting the space beside me—patting for Jason.
My hand hits nothing.
Just cold sheets.
I frown and sweep my fingers wider, searching for the dip of his weight, the brush of his arm, anything.
Empty.
There’s still a crease where he’d been, but no body, no breath, no familiar heat.
“Jason?” I murmur, pushing hair away from my face. “Where’d you put my?—”
I stop.
The house answers with nothing. No soft footstep. No rustle of him trying not to wake me. Just silence.
Silence thick enough that I feel it pressing against my ears.
Okay. Maybe he had to go to work early. Maybe he’s in the shower. Maybe Dog-Jason is drooling on the rug and Human-Jason is making coffee and…
My phone keeps ringing.
I swing my legs off the bed, my feet touching the cool floor. I stand carefully, listening. No padding paws. No giant bear-dog breathing somewhere nearby. Just that damn ringtone, coming from farther away than the nightstand.
“Jason? Boy?” I call softly. “Where are you?”
Nothing.
A knot tightens low in my stomach.
