“By making meangrier?”
His lips twitch. “If that’s what it takes. Maybe you need more motivation.”
He extends a hand, and the room feels like it’s shifting. Light gathers in the space between us, brightening until I have to squint. A shape begins to form—four-legged, massive, shoulders rippling with strength.
It’s a wolf.
No. Not just any wolf.
Cade’s wolf.
I recognize him instantly. The dark russet coat, the deep golden eyes that see only me, the impossible stillness in his stance. My throat goes dry.
A part of me acknowledges that this isn’t really Cade, but it’s close enough that my chest aches in that unfathomable, hollow way that only grief can carve. The breath leaves my lungs before I can stop it. My pulse stumbles, torn between relief and pain, because even an imitation of him feels like salvation and punishment all at once.
I’m sorry, Cade. This is all my fault.
Damn it, he looks so real. Every detail, down to the way his ears flick forward, the way his eyes burn that molten gold, like his stare alone is enough to make the world feel safe again. My mind betrays me, filling in the rest—the heat of his body against my skin, the weight of his hand on my back, the sound of his voice when he says my name like I’m something worth fighting for.
I haven’t let myself succumb to the ramifications of the decision I made when I didn’t fight harder against the influence, when I accepted Malrik’s offered hand. Icouldn’t because I knew it would break me if I truly faced what I walked away from.
Now, I have no choice.
I want to step closer, to bury my fingers in that fur and feel the steady pulse of life beneath it, to believe that Cade knows how much I regret my choices, that he’s still out there somewhere, searching for me.
But I don’t move forward.
Like the cruel bitch that reality is… I know this isn’t my mate. Cade isn’t here. He can’t be. This is Malrik’s doing. A mirage designed to break me open and see what spills out.
My throat burns.You’re not real.I want to say it aloud, but the words stick like thorns in my mouth.
The simulation takes a step toward me, and I swear my body forgets how to breathe. My hand lifts on its own, reaching for what my heart refuses to let go of.
Every instinct screamsdon’t,but grief is louder.
For a heartbeat, the distance between us disappears.
And in that heartbeat, I let myself believe—just for amoment—that everything’s going to be okay.
Somehow. Someway.
Malrik’s tone softens, almost gentle. “Give in to the pain, Rowan. Don’t let it control you. Don’t fight it. If fear isn’t how you command what’s inside you, then pain is all I can offer. The sooner we get through this, the sooner it ends.”
His words are somehow kind, but I don’t believe for one second that he has any sympathy for me now.
“Make this go away.” The words scrape out of me before I can stop them. “This isn’t funny.”
“Humor isn’t the point,” he says, staying too calm. “Focus on what you feel.”
“Ifeellike setting you on fire.”
“Good,” he murmurs. “Now don’t fight it.”
The energy in the floor sharpens, thrumming up through my bare feet. The air grows thick, charged, until every breath tastes like lightning. Cade’s wolf lifts his head, eyes burning amber, and something inside me splinters.
Imposter.
Like twin flames, pain and fury rain over me, and this time, I don’t hold back. I don’t want to. I just want this nightmare to end.
