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“You don’t have to tell me now,” he said quietly. “This isn’t a confession, Winter. You don’t have to confess. There’s nothing to confess.”
“When I was in heat, I snapped for a minute. Maybe more, I don’t remember. He tried to take my neck, and it snapped me out of it. I shoved him away. We argued. He got persistent. I refused. He held me down and tried to use the relic. I dodged the first drop, somehow, but he… he didn’t let me up, and he would have… if Marcella and Demetrius hadn’t heard me screaming.”
Sterling extended his good hand towards me.
“I hate that relic.” My voice shook.
“Take my hand, my love,” he said, offering me his hand, palm up.
I did what he asked.
He closed his fingers over my hand. “I am so sorry for the mistakes I’ve made.”
“We’re alive to be having this argument, so I’d say we’ve done everything right. You said yourself it was a Queen’s Sacrifice, and I was the Queen. It worked. Checkmate.” I smiled at him, for real. “It’s over. We won. I’d do it again.”
“Would you?”
“Without hesitation.” I clicked my teeth. “Especially the turducken.”
He permitted himself a small, battered smile.
I (carefully) hugged him and tucked my head against his neck, breathing out with relief. He had survived. His good hand rested between my shoulder blades and he growled in his throat, low and soft, and I snuggled closer, emotions tangled and raw and thorny. Months of anguish and anger and pain and grief.
“Beautiful throne,” he murmured, “we’re together again. And I am so sorry for what you’ve been through. But we have a lifetime together, and we will never be parted again.”
No one cameto see us for the remainder of the day except for Garrett and Cerys. Garrett stood guard outside our door, Cerys brought us food. We were supposed to lie low until summoned. No riots had broken out, but there was alotof commotion and back and forth between the Elders. Rumors swirled that I (Winter) was actually alive. Mercedes was not expected to survive and had been taken back to Alaska to reunite with her pups. Searle had also been quarantined. I bumped into him at the ice machine.
He looked stripped and flayed.
A complex cocktail of emotions—all of them varying, threatening shades of unpleasant—brewed in my soul. I did not need or want perspective. So I went with numbness and neutrality, since Searle wasn’t really an enemy I wanted. For practical reasons, and reasons of principle.
“I hope you aren’t planning on drinking that ice,” he said.
Gross. Nobody actually put ice from a hotel ice machine in their drinks, right? Yuck. “No, it’s for his injuries.”
Searle searched my face for… something.
I asked, “Do you know what’s happening?”
“I’m not sure anyone knows what’s happening. I know that Demetrius and Marcella have not revealed the existence of the vials, the scrolls, officially confirmed you are alive, or that we have proof GranitePaw attacked you in Clare. They seem to be allowing the others to bark at them. The SilverPaw are on the brink of chaos with the rumors you are still alive. You could make a play if you were of a mind to. It would not take much for you to rid yourself of Daniel.”
I scoffed. “Hell no. Fuck that. Not interested.”
“They might come to you.”
“Especiallynot interested.”
Searle lowered his voice and glanced behind his shoulder before telling me, “I can tell you the SnowFang were sent for. It’s eight hours from New York. They might already be halfway here.”
“What?” I whispered back. “Why?”
Searle shook his head. “I have no idea. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but it’s what I heard. Not that I’m certain I trust that source. I trust them enough to pass it on to you, but not enough to advise you to rely on it.”
“Did AmberHowl send for them?”
“Yes.”
Sounded like his “source” was Demetrius and Marcella’s oldest. Naughty pup. Naughty, naughty.
