Chapter 6

The Pack Recognition Ceremony brought out everyone. My father. My older brother, his mate, younger siblings. And Clarissa — who had lived in my place for years. Now our positions were completely reversed. She stood at the back of the crowd, looking at me with something like hatred and something like grief. And beside her, Cain — stunned for a moment, then almost frantic with some kind of joy.

"Elara. You're the true Davenport daughter. This is how it was supposed to be. You and me. It was always fated."

He was practically vibrating. I kept my voice level. "Alpha Sterling. Behave yourself. Your arranged Mate is Clarissa."

"She doesn't matter. You're the one I chose."

"You chose her." I smoothed my jacket. "The mate you chose died in Stillwater Territory. Everything you're doing now just makes me think less of you."

He deflated like something had knocked the air out of him.

I had no interest in getting pulled back in.

Halfway through the feast, Clarissa brought me a drink and cried — really performed it — saying she was glad I'd come home, that her mother had made one terrible mistake, that she only wanted the chance to make it up to me as a sister.

I looked around. My mother's eyes wouldn't settle. No one else intervened.

Clarissa standing here was Davenport Pack sending a message. They wanted it both ways — me and her. Just like Cain.

I was suddenly very bored. I pushed her drink aside. "Your mother is gone. The dead are gone."

Everyone relaxed. Then I kept going.

"But the living own what they did. You recognized me at Stillwater Territory years ago. You just couldn't do anything with Cain always near me. The polo grounds was the first time you had an opening."

"That's a lie. You're making things up." Clarissa looked to Cain, her only option.

I pulled folded papers from inside my jacket. "These are statements from the people who set that fire. Very detailed. Read them yourselves."

Clarissa hadn't expected documentation. She lunged for the papers. Cain took them first.

She turned to him immediately: "Cain, yes, I sent those people. But it was because I couldn't stand losing you. You'd already identified every spy in the Pack — you were just staying in Stillwater Territory to stay near her. The arranged bond was mine first. My real name, my Pack position — why does she get it all? I couldn't accept it."

"You said it yourself." Cain's expression went flat. He dropped the papers on the floor. "I thought you were just spoiled. I didn't know the rest. Read them yourself — Elara wasn't lying about you."

Clarissa scrambled to piece together the pages, and as she read, all the color left her face.

She was right to go pale. I'd bluffed. I had no actual evidence — the fire had destroyed everything.

I walked to her and looked down. "I guessed. You confirmed it. Under Pack Law, ordering someone's killing is a death sentence."

My last image of Clarissa: her face perfectly made up, and the anger underneath cracking everything apart.

Justice. It was over.

Before Caius left on his Council-assigned mission, he stood outside Davenport Pack all night.

He sent word: if he came back, could there be a chance at something new.

My attendant brought me a gold-set pearl bracelet I recognized.

"Tell him," I said, "that his mate died in the waters off Stillwater Territory."

Cain Sterling was a stranger now.

Caius, who was in the room giving me my daily treatment, coughed once. "Stop cursing yourself. I'm here. You'll be fine."

I didn't argue. I tugged on his sleeve. "One last thing. Before I can't ask anymore."

When the cold came, Caius and I left the Capital together.

My mother cried all the way to the city gates and loaded us down with more money than I knew what to do with.

"When you've had enough of wandering, come back and see me."

Looking at her face, I found I couldn't hate her. She'd hesitated between me and Clarissa — but that was what old-line Pack families did, the cold weighing of advantages. I didn't hold it against her.

Mostly because she'd given me so much money.

The real reason I had to go was simple: I didn't have much time left.

The last time I'd dived in open water, I'd come up with old mussels — oxidized, long past any healing use. Only deep-water mussels still carried the properties I needed. I'd weighted myself with stones to reach the lower currents.

That's what had damaged my lungs.

Caius had been keeping me stable with medicine ever since.

But even the best healer can't hold back what's already been decided.

I was wrapped in a thick fur coat, sitting on cushioned benches in the boat's cabin.

"Caius. When the time comes — can you scatter my ashes on the water?"

The wind off the water was strong. My voice barely carried.

He looked down at his hands. "Yes. But you have to finish this medicine first."

I shook my head.

"Testing remedies is exhausting. I'm done with that."

"You're a good healer. You'll save so many people. Don't lose your confidence because of me."

He made a sound that might have been a quiet inhale. "Elara. You're not that important."

The strength was leaving my fingertips. I reached out the way I had the first time we met.

"But you are, Caius. That's why I'm leaving everything to you. Enough to open as many clinics as you want, buy every rare herb on the market. Be a great healer. Take care of yourself."

The sun dropped below the water and took the last of the light with it.

My head, exactly right, came to rest against Caius's chest.

This long, long life. Finally at its end.