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Her lashes fluttered, shutting, locking me out before she turned away. “I need to dance.”

“You go dance. I’m gonna kick these fuckers out. Females only, assholes,” she said to the males gathered with me.

“You sure you’re not sick of dancing?” Lothar said to her. “I got a soft bed and a bottle of whisky in my den. You want, Ash, we could have a party of our own.”

“And I’ve got a vibrator and a bottle of bourbon back at the keep. I’m good,” she said, barely sparing him a glance. “Now, all of you, fuck off.” Then she strode away to join her females.

“Harsh,” Relic said, grinning wide.

The door to the dens below opened and Willow ran out, a huge smile on her face as she rushed to dance, and for a moment, I almost fucking smiled. All I’d ever wanted was for her to be safe and happy, and she was. So fucking happy.

Warrick filled the doorway she’d just walked through, jabbed a finger at us, and then pointed at the exit behind us, silently telling us to get the fuck out, then he disappeared, going back down to look after Violet.

As we were filing out, the hounds grumbling all the way, a new song started. The females cheered and whooped, and I tried not to, but I couldn’t stop myself from turning back to get one last look.

And if no one had been with me, I would’ve snapped a picture of Jasmine in that moment. Head thrown back, blond and pink-streaked hair flying everywhere. Huge smile on her beautiful face.

My memory would have to be enough, but I didn’t think I’d have any trouble remembering.

Fuck, no. The sight of her was burned into my mind like another scar.

Another I never wanted to heal.

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Chapter 5

Jasmine

* * *

There was still pink in my hair. It wasn’t as bright, but it would probably take a few more washes to get it all out. I lay on my bed and tried to calm my anxiety. Zinnia was leaving today, going back to Death, going back empty-handed. She said he hadn’t hurt her, but she could be lying for my benefit.

I slid my sketchpad and charcoal aside, unable to focus. I worried about her the entire time she was there, and I wouldn’t be able to talk to her, not even text or call, for a whole month. I wouldn’t know if she was okay until she walked through that gateway in another month’s time.

Since drawing wasn’t working this morning, I snatched up my phone instead to distract myself while I waited for her to get here. She was doing the rounds, saying her goodbyes. It was selfish, but the goodbyes and seeing my family sad all in one day was more than I could take, so I sat that part out. I clicked on Nightscape to check my notifications, then couldn’t help but smile. Asher had posted pics from last night. At least her page was private, so we weren’t flashing our boobs to all of Roxburgh.

I flicked through them, then stopped. Breanne with her arms around two other wolves, smiling, laughing. Asher had dominated her last night after she shoved me, but they were pack, family. I hated that she saw right through me to my jealous little heart. The fact that she got to be close to Ren, to touch him, kiss him, talk to him in his room at night, yeah, it ate at me.

I’d never know what that was like, and I hated that I still thought about it, that I still wanted to know. Asher had tagged her, and I clicked on her name like some saddo stalker. Of course, her page wasn’t private. She’d love to flash her boobs to all of Roxburgh.

I cringed, hating how bitchy I was being. That wasn’t me, and I didn’t like feeling this way.

Still, I scrolled through a few pictures, then a few more.

Don’t be such a tragic loser, Jasmine.

But I couldn’t stop myself. She was gorgeous, her body was perfect. She had all these friends, and the Silver Claw pack gatherings looked like so much fun. My cousin Iris, her familiar, Nia, the sweetest dog in existence, and her mate, Draven, their alpha, were featured in quite a few photos. I’d been to pack land, of course, but I’d never stuck around for one of their parties.

I flicked to the next picture. It was of Draven and Warrick, and Ren was with them. They looked deep in conversation. The next one was a selfie, and she was on Ren’s lap. She was grinning, and he was talking to someone beside him.

The next was a photo of a male’s bare, ripped stomach, obviously on a bed. There was a scar on his side, and she’d captioned it with a hot face and raindrop emojis. Shifters had their shirts off a lot, and I recognized the scar instantly.

Ash told me that after we’d had our little shoving contest, Bree had warned the other females in their pack to stay away from Ren, that he was hers. Nausea curdled in my belly, and I scrolled away—so quickly that I didn’t look where I put my finger.

I froze.

NO!