“Little mouse, you really think you’re going to get far?”
Calliope sighed and turned to Maxen’s brother and tucked the pistol in her valise. “Far enough.”
“Alone?”
“Don’t sound so skeptical. I have Prince.”
“You are still alone.”
“And what of being alone?” she asked. “I was alone here for three months before I met the likes of you.”
“You still met the likes of me, didn’t you?” He flashed her a grin. “But now you’ve no idea what you’re stepping into.”
“Perhaps, but I know what I’m stepping out of.” She hated how her voice wavered slightly. “I willneverbe trapped again.”
The beast’s brows furrowed, drawing her gaze to his scar.
“You think we mean to cage you,” he said without humor, cocking his head, studying her.
Calliope shrugged. “Trap. Cage. Tighten the ship. It’s all the same.”
“You’re wrong about that. It’s not all the same.”
Perhaps she was wrong. But, “Let us agree to disagree on this score.”
He simply gazed at her.
She clutched her valise tightly and crossed to the door, every step shadowed by those dark eyes of his. At the threshold, she paused. “Tell your brother whatever you want.” She hesitated, but still added, “And that I’m sorry I was troublesome.”
He gave a low chuckle. “Do not fool yourself into believing that running would make our world better. Running never makes anything better. Trust me, I know.”
She shook her head. “I’mleavingwhile I still have a say in the matter, still have a chance.”
He didn’t respond, for a moment, she simply stood there, valise in hand, heart in confusion. She had not thought withdrawing from Brighton would feel quite like this. Both an ache and a release. Almost like her moment of departure was about to tear something vital apart.
Regret filled her.
Which was foolish, was it not? But it was also proof she hadsomething to walk away from. So unlike her old home. That, at least, was something.
She cast one last glance at Reaper.
“I don’t belong in your ‘ship.’” Calliope said softly. “Goodbye, Mr. Fury.”
She motioned for Prince, and the hound followed her out, the door closing between them with a final snap. She forced her steps forward, down the narrow passage, through the back exit, and into the dark that always seemed to wait for her—the dark she hated, and knew too well.
*
Maxen shoved thedoor to Calliope’s shop open with such force the frame’s hinges rattled.
“Calliope!”
No bloody answer.
He’d been right, and the silence only fed his urgency. He surged into motion, boots thundering up the stairs two at a time, heart pounding like war drums in his chest. He didn’t pause. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t think.
He couldn’t.
If he did, he’d remember the way she’d looked at him before walking out of Fury’s. An expression he hadn’t pieced together until he sprinted to her shop at full speed. Her look had been different from any other she’d given him before. One of finality. How the hell hadn’t he recognized the glance? With each second that passed, the shape of her reaction became more and more clear.
