CHAPTER ONE
CLOVER
The world comes back in fragments.
First, the chemical bite of smelling salts.
Second, strong hands cradling my head, tilting my face up.
Not a stranger. Not the person who sends the packages. No, these hands are gentle.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
I can survive anything for five seconds.
Third, the cool breeze of an early fall night.
Fourth, a voice. Deep. Urgent. “Come on. Open your eyes.”
I obey that rough command.
He’s leaning over me—tall, dark-haired. Light blue eyes locked on mine with an intensity that steals what’s left of my breath. This close, I can see the scar on his temple. The lines around his eyes. The way his jaw clenches like he’s holding something back.
Oh God.
“Am I dead?” I rasp.
Valen’s laughter is unexpected but warm—familiar. “No, Honeybee. You just passed out.”
Air lodges painfully in my throat.
I’m definitely dead.
Fourteen years of hiding. Fourteen years behind deadbolts and bulletproof glass and never allowing anyone to get too close.
And all it took was one look from Valen Stone for all my careful safety, my cautious discretion, all that control, to fail. None of it saved me from collapsing under his stare.
“Honeybee?” my best friend Madi asks. “Where the heck did that come from?”
Valen frowns. “Beats the hell out of me. You good, lady?” He stares at me like he’s never seen me before, like I’m a complete stranger, as he backs away.
My heart breaks all over again.
Honeybee.
“Valen?”
Except he’s watching me like I vomited on his shoes. Like that word—Honeybee—came out of his mouth without his permission and now he doesn’t know what to do with it.
“He doesn’t know that he’sherValen,” someone grumbles.
He doesn’t know he’smyValen?
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. Because twenty years ago, he called me Honeybee every single day. It was our word—my name.
How is Valen here?
“Clover!” Madi’s voice cuts through the haze, and reality slams into me.
