Chapter 7

I didn't press. He never brought it up again either.

The spring wind stirred the ends of my hair.

The gravel path came to an end.

I stopped.

I turned around.

Ronan was standing a few steps away.

Watching me.

"Done?"

He came closer.

"Mm."

"Going back?"

"Okay."

He walked beside me.

Not close, not far.

It was nice.

The afternoon of my follow-up,

Ronan and I went to pick up the family mating rings I'd designed.

Three plain bands. I'd designed them myself.

Over the last five years, designing was the one thing I'd found I loved.

Uncle said I'd loved drawing even as a child.

Maybe it was in my blood.

My mother had loved it too.

Good. Even if I can't remember you, I still have a piece of you, Mom.

The studio was on the edge of Calloway territory.

A glass building. Sunlight spilled through it, bright and clean.

The craftswoman handed the ring box across the counter.

I opened it.

Three simple bands. The inside of each was engraved with our Pack crest.

Simple. Clean.

Just the way I liked them.

Ronan picked one up.

"Beautiful."

He turned to me.

"You really do have a gift for this."

I gave a small smile.

"I just draw for fun."

"This isn't just for fun."

He took the woman's band out.

"Hand."

I looked up into his amber eyes in the sunlight.

"What are you doing?"

"Try it on."

He took my hand.

He slid the band onto my ring finger.

It fit.

Exactly.

He bent his head over it. Serious.

"Yeah. It fits."

"You sized it yourself?"

I nodded.

He smiled.

"Our Wren. Something else."

I looked at the ring on my finger.

Silver. Gentle in the sunlight.

Ronan's hand was still holding mine.

He hadn't let go.

I didn't really want to pull away either.

I looked up. He was looking at me.

The light was on his face. Something flickered in his eyes.

"Wren."

He said my name.

"Mm?"

"Every piece you design from now on — I want to be the first one to try it."

I nodded without really knowing why, and he smiled again.

"Come on. Uncle's waiting."

I looked down at the ring on my finger.

Turned it once.

Something inside me went very quiet, very steady.

The last five years had felt like this the whole time.

We pushed the door open and walked out.

The sun was sharp.

I squinted.

Then I saw him.

Standing across the street.

Through the traffic and the sunlight.

And through five years.

I froze.

Something behind my eyes flashed.

It hurt.

It hurt very badly.

"Little Wren?"

Ronan's voice beside me.

He caught my hand.

"What's wrong?"

I opened my mouth.

I wanted to say nothing. I couldn't.

The man across the street.

Still watching me. Not moving.

He crossed the road. Traffic screamed past him.

I watched with my heart in my throat.

He didn't seem to hear any of it. One step. Two.

Closer.

The last half meter, he stopped in front of me.

Bruising under his eyes. An unshaven jaw.

He looked like some kind of drifter. And still I couldn't stop the tears.

He couldn't either. The rims of his eyes were red.

"Wren."

His voice was hoarse, close to breaking.

I stood there looking at him.

Something in my head was pushing up.

The tears broke.

"Wren."

He said it again.

His hand came up, shaking,

reaching for my face.

I flinched back. Ronan took a half-step forward.

Put himself between us.

"Sir. You have the wrong person."

He stopped before his hand could touch me,

but his eyes had caught on the matching bands on my finger and Ronan's.

"Matching bands."

His voice was almost weightless.

"You designed them?"

I froze. How did he know.

He was still watching me.

His eyes were redder now.

"You designed one for me before."

"Also a plain band."

"With our initials engraved inside."

While he spoke the pain in my head doubled.

I clutched my head.

Ronan steadied me.

"Little Wren? Little Wren!"

He was still talking.

"It's all right if you don't remember me."

"I can wait."

He pulled a ring off his own hand

and held it out.

A plain band. Catching light in the sun.

Same as the one on my finger.

"Look. You designed it."

"Only two in the world."

"I've had this one for five years."

"The other —"

His eyes moved to the ring on my finger. The words caught.

I stepped back.

"Get away from me."

My voice shook hard.

I put up a hand to push him away.

My hand caught the ring in his palm.

He couldn't hold it.

The ring flew.

It landed on the road,

rolled twice the way fate does,

and fell into a storm drain that the sun didn't reach.

He cried. His head bent over the black hole.

My vision went dark. My legs folded.