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“A what person?” Stella sputters, but neither Isolde nor I look at her. The candlelight flickers over Isolde’s drawn face as she watches me sadly, like I’m an embodiment of her biggest regret.
“Noah’s my mate,” I whisper.
She nods, a knowing expression marking her features.
“You knew this could happen?”
She bites her lower lip. “Tansy and I did our best to keep it under control with the dianthus. It’s a known suppressant for in-between people. She didn’t want you to get hurt like Bryn, and I promised to always keep you safe. It seems I failed, though.”
“You didn’t fail,” I insist hoarsely. “I’m happy Noah’s my mate. I called to him, and he’s…” I trail off, my voice catching in my throat as I remember our last words to each other. Both of us, so furious. Why is it so easy to fight with him? I don’t push back with anyone else like I do with him. “He’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Oh, no, dear,” Isolde says wistfully. “There’s no way you’ll live through the delivery of the baby you’re carrying. This is a terrible thing to happen to you.”
“What? Why would you say something like that to her?” Stella bursts out, looking between the two of us with alarm. Neither of us acknowledge her.
But her words remind me of something. My mother, dying because she had to give birth to me.
“Who was my father?” I ask, my heart pounding in my throat, causing my voice to waver and break.
“A weak, self-important alpha who took advantage of a sweet, trusting beta.” She pauses, rolling her eyes. “But it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It does,” I insist. “I deserve—”
“We can talk about this later,” Stella interjects. “Mother, we’re here to get the betas out of Goldenrod. We have to go.”
“Go where, dear?”
“There’s a place outside Goldenrod where we’ve been living,” Stella explains hurriedly. “There’s going to be an attack here in the morning. Jason told us—”
“Outside? You’ve been living outside the fence?”
Stella nods quickly. “Yes, it’s been fine. Perfect, really, and…” she hesitates. “We need you to come with us now.”
“I’m not leaving Goldenrod, dear,” Isolde laughs.
“You don’t understand, they’re coming tomorrow,” I say slowly. “In a few hours, actually. If you don’t come with us, then…” I trail off, unable to put words to it.
“I’m not leaving,” she says softly, “and there’s no way they’ll take me. The Order will protect me.”
“No, it won’t!” Stella yells, pulling on her arm. “C’mon, let’s go pack.”
But before any of us can move, we all jump simultaneously at a sound in the hallway. Feet dragging down the carpet. Heavy breathing.
“Shh,” Isolde shushes, her expression sharpening. Holding her candle up in the direction of the door, we all search the darkness.
There’s nothing there. At least, nothing we can see.
“What was that?” Stella asks with a gasp, grabbing her mother’s free hand. But Isolde pays her no mind, shaking her off gently and moving forward.
Once again, she reminds me of a ghost. Floating and unafraid.
“I don’t know,” she murmurs, not looking back at us. “I’ve got the light, so I’ll take a look. You girls stand back.”
“Mother, be careful.”
“Nothing in this house scares me, Stella,” she murmurs in a low voice, her candle rising toward the black pool of darkness. “I know all its secrets at this point.”
But she barely gets the words out before a long, swooping movement swings through the darkness. All we hear is her sharp intake of breath as she’s pulled into the hallway, her extinguished candle falling to the carpet with a heavy thump.
