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“I hate it.”

“Have you sat on it?”

“No.”

“Then your hate lacks ass data.”

Kalon looked from the couch to me with enough restraint to deserve a medal. “Did you check for cameras?”

I pointed at him. “Yes, and I resent how fast you asked that.”

“Did you find any?”

“No.”

His shoulders lowered a fraction. “Good.”

Sam came closer. Her eyes moved over my face, my wet hair, the tail, my trembling hands. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Fair.”

“I worked all day and thought I was doing better, which was cute of me.” My laugh came out thin. “Then, I came home to a couch I hate because it’s soft, showered off a man I hate because I miss him, grew a tail, screamed at myself, and now three people are standing in my apartment like the world ended while I was trying to find some clothes.”

Sam’s face changed. Mandi’s smile disappeared. Kalon’s jaw tightened. My stomach dropped.

“What?”

Kalon cleared his throat. “We came because there’s something you need to see.”

All the weird little pieces of my panic slid into a straighter line. Sam’s pale face. Mandi’s quiet. Kalon at my door. The bond silent all day. The black sedan leaving. Lux not texting. That wrong, cold gap where his presence should have been.

My tail stilled.

“Tell me.”

Sam took my hand. Her fingers felt cold. “Liv.”

“No.” I shook my head once. “Don’t say my name like that.”

Mandi grabbed the remote from the coffee table. “Sit.”

“I’m not sitting on the guilt couch.”

“Liv.”

I sat. The couch was obscenely comfortable. Fuck.

Mandi turned on the television. Static flashed, then a news banner cut across the screen in red.

LIVE BROADCAST FROM SOUTHERN COMMAND.

The camera feed shook, then moved to some armed men in southern colors. A flag I didn’t recognize hung behind them in black and rust red.

Then, the camera centered . . . Lux was on his knees.

Chains crossed his wrists, shoulders, throat. Blood trailed from where the silver touched skin and down the side of his face. His white hair hung forward, messy and damp with sweat, and Scarn stood behind him with one fist buried in it.