When he turned to face me, I shifted into human form.
The charcoal wolf blinked and then Ren was standing in front of me, gazing down at my face.
“Why are you here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I said, biting my lip. The fact that he whiled away the hours in an empty house built for us was not the reason I’d come here. But it was hard to push those thoughts away. Standing in this room, on this mountain, in this house, everything felt like it was about us. I could barely remember the outside world. The Searchers. The war.
His eyes flashed, but then went hollow.
“It’s a good place to be alone.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. The words felt like ice in my throat.
“For what, exactly?” His smile was razor sharp, and I cringed.
“Everything.” I couldn’t look at him, so I walked through the room, staring at nothing in particular, moving past furniture with empty drawers. A bed no one would sleep in.
“Everything,” he repeated.
I was across the room, standing on the other side of the bed, when I turned around, staring at him.
“Ren, I came to help you. It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“You don’t have to stay here.”
“Why would I leave?” he said. “This is my home.” His fingers grazed the satin surface of the bed linens. “Our home.”
“No, it’s not.” I gripped one of the bedposts. “We didn’t choose this; it was chosen for us.”
“You didn’t choose this.” He walked to the other side of the bed. “I thought we would have had a good life here.”
“Maybe.” My nails dug into the wood varnish. “But it wasn’t really a choice. Even if it might have been good.”
“You never wanted it. Did you?” His fists were clenched at his sides.
“I don’t know,” I said. My heart was beating too fast. “I never asked myself what I wanted.”
“Then why did you run?”
“You know why,” I said softly.
“For him,” he snarled, grabbing a pillow and hurling it across the room. I stepped back, forcing my voice to remain calm.
“It’s not that simple,” I said. The moment he mentioned Shay, something inside me stirred. I still felt sad, but stronger. Shay hadn’t just changed the path of my life. He’d changed me. No, not changed. He’d helped me fight for my true self. Now it was my turn to help Ren do the same.
“Isn’t it?” He glared at me.
“Would you have been able to kill him?” I asked, holding Ren’s gaze. “Is that how you wanted to start a life with me?”
Part of me didn’t want to know the answer. Could he really want Shay dead? If I was wrong about Ren, coming here was a terrible mistake. We would fight and I would have to kill him. Or he would kill me.
He bared sharp canines at me, but then he sighed. “Of course not.”
I slowly moved around the bed. “That’s the only life they would have offered us. Killing the people who need to be helped.”
He watched me approach, remaining stone still.
“The Keepers are the enemy, Ren,” I said. “We’ve been fighting on the wrong side of this war.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I know the Searchers now,” I said. “I trust them. They helped me rescue our pack.”
His smile was harsh. “Some of it.”
“The others made their choice.”
“And I didn’t?” His eyes were obsidian dark, angry. But I didn’t think his rage was directed at me.
When I closed my eyes briefly, unable to take in the torrent of regret that flooded Ren’s stare, I was back in Vail, in a cell deep beneath Eden. I remembered the desperation in Ren’s voice, the fear in my own.
I shuddered as the memory of slamming into the wall and tasting blood in my mouth rushed over me. Forcing myself back into the room, I caught Ren’s slightly sick expression and I knew his mind had been in the same place.
I swallowed, clasping my hands so they wouldn’t shake. “I hope you didn’t.”
He didn’t answer, but gazed at me.
“I don’t believe you wanted to hurt me,” I said. “And I don’t think you would have, even if Monroe hadn’t-”
My words dried up in my throat. It was true, but that didn’t take away the memory. The horror of those moments had been etched on my bones.
“I wouldn’t have,” Ren whispered.
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I believed it. What mattered now was getting him out of here and away from the world that twisted him into someone who could hurt me. He started to lift his hand, as if to touch my cheek, but then let it drop back to his side.
“Did the Searchers send you to find me?”
“Sort of.”
His brow shot up.
“Monroe wanted to find you,” I said.
Ren’s jaw tightened. “The man my-the man Emile killed.”
I noticed the way he’d stopped himself. He didn’t want to call Emile his father.
“Ren.” I reached out, taking his hand. “Do you know?”
His fingers gripped mine. “Is it true? Did Emile kill my mother?”
I nodded, feeling tears slip from my eyes.
He pulled his hand away, fisting his fingers in his dark hair, pressing his temples. His shoulders began to shake.
“I’m so sorry.”
“That man.” Ren’s voice cracked. “That man, Monroe. He’s my real father, isn’t he?”
I watched him, wondering how he’d put it all together. “How did you know?”
Not much time had passed between the fight in Eden’s depths and this strained moment where I stood looking at Ren. I’d known him since we were both pups, but I felt like in the last twenty-four hours, we’d aged decades.
