“I’m lying on Cash’s chest, tracing his tattoo.“What does this mean?” I whisper.“It’s the Chinese symbol for awesome,” he teases lightly.I giggle. “If it’s not, which I imagine it isn’t, then it should be.”“Are you paying me a compliment? I just want to be sure, so I don’t miss it.”I slap his ribs. “You make it sound like I’m mean and horrible because I don’t throw myself at your feet.”“You don’t have to throw yourself at my feet. Although if you want to, I’m sure I can think of something for you to do while you’re down there.”I look up at him and he’s waggling his eyebrows again.“I’m sure you could.” Shaking my head, I settle back onto his chest and resume tracing the ink shapes. “Seriously, what do they mean?”Cash is quiet for so long I begin to think he’s not going to answer me. But then he finally speaks.“It’s a collage of things that remind me of my family.”

“Are you paying me a compliment? I just want to be sure, so I don't miss it.""You make it sound like I'm mean and horrible because I don't throw myself at your feet.""You don't have to throw yourself at my feet. Although if you want, I'm sure I can think of something for you to do while you're down there.”

“Do you . . .” I begin, then turn around to make sure Scarlett is really asleep, not just faking it—her chest rises and falls a different way when it’s genuine. Satisfied, I look back to Silas and choose my words carefully. “Do you think I’m a good hunter?”Silas looks confused. “Of course. You and Lett are the best hunters I—”“No, not me and Scarlett. Just me,” I say.Silas slows the car a tad to look at me. “Yes. Yes, of course. You’re—pardon my language—you’re fucking deadly with a knife, Rosie.”I smile and shake my head, remembering all the times Silas scolded his older brothers for throwing language around in front of my “virgin ears.” It’s sort of satisfying to know that his perspective has changed. “Right,” I say. “I mean, we hunt together. But Scarlett . . . it’s like a part of her soul.”“Dramatic much?” Silas teases, but he frowns when I don’t laugh.“You know what I mean. It drives her.”“But not you?”“I don’t know. I mean, maybe. It doesn’t matter. I owe Scarlett my life, you know?”“Yeah, but . . . like I told your sister, that doesn’t mean she’s got you locked in a cage forever. Unless you want to be locked in a cage, I mean. Wait, that sounds weird.” Silas shakes his head and sighs. “I’m forever tripping on words with you, Rosie.”“I have that effect on people,” I joke, but Silas’s face stays serious as he nods slightly. I grin nervously.”

“Let’s get drunk,” I state, clinking my glass with his.“Sure you want to do that?” Dorian says with a raised eyebrow. He gives me that look a lot, probably because of all my questionable behavior. “I’m not sure of anything anymore,” I say with a cynical chuckle. “But I know I’m tired of disappointment. And I’m tired of keeping secrets. And I’m tired of fucking things up!”Dorian nods, understanding my frustration. “Do you want me to help you?” he asks quietly. I know what he means. Dorian is offering to fix me like he did the day before.“No,” I shake my head. “I want you to drink with me. Then I want you to do things to me that are as dirty and immoral as I already feel.” I take another hefty gulp and let the searing burn strip away the guilt and shame in my chest. “Ok, let’s get drunk.” And with that Dorian downs the entire contents of his glass and turns on the music.”

“Don’t leave. I want you to be with me.”“You’ll have your family.”I swallow before I say the words that will change this relationship forever. “You’re the one I need.”“But that would mean meeting your family.”It does, and I’m okay with that if it means she’s by my side. “I don’t care. I need you to be with me.”She smiles and cradles my face with her hands. “Of course. I’ll come if it’s what you want, but this is going to change everything.”“I know, but it’s what I want.”

“I know,” Aren says. “But I wanted to apologize. I don’t want Taltrayn to convince you I’m the bad guy.”At that, I give a short laugh. “You are the bad guy, Aren.”He frowns, and I realize he’s taking my words the wrong way.“What I mean is you’re the . . . well, the rebel. Kyol’s the good guy. He’s made mistakes, yes, but he loves me.”He cocks his head to the side. His gaze makes my skin tingle. The step he takes toward me is hesitant, careful, and when his silver eyes peer down at me, I stop breathing. His lips are so close. I remember the way they felt pressed against mine. I remember his taste, the heat of his edarratae.The smallest distance separates us when he whispers, “You don’t think I’m in love with you?”“I . . .”