“Spoke the truth, you mean?”

“The truth? I thought the two of you—”

“No,” he says simply, bluntly, shaking his dark head. “I tried . . . but I can’t.”

I close my eyes in a long-suffering blink. Opening them, I face him. “She’s right. It will always be Will.”

“No,” he refutes again with infuriating confidence. “He was your escape. When you stop running, you’ll see it’s me you belong with. I might have doubted it before, but then you kissed me in the tower—”

“That,” I say sharply, “was a mistake. A serious lapse in judgment.”

“Maybe Will’s the mistake.”

I pull back at that.

“Let’s pretend for one moment that you could get your precious Will. That you give up your pride, your family, your life to be with him. You don’t think one day you would wake up and look at him and realize he’s just some hunter with blood on his hands? A hunter with stolen blood in his veins?”

I shake my head. “No! I don’t want to hear this—”

“Because it’s true. You think you can live with that? When the fantasy wears off, when the first thrilling rush of being with him fades . . . you’ll remember just why it is he’s wrong for you.”

“I don’t know why we’re even talking about this. I’m never going to see him again,” I say, my voice shaking at the lie.

He stares at me so intently I fear he detects my deceit. “I just don’t want any misunderstanding between us anymore,” he says firmly.

“I understand the situation perfectly. You and I aren’t going to happen.” I motion toward the door. “You really should go after Tamra. She’s upset.”

“And I’m sorry for that.” He inhales, his broad chest lifting high. “But I’m not sorry about us.”

“There is no us,” I hiss, clenching my hands into fists.

He moves for the door, his stride easy and relaxed. “I can be patient. We have time.” Then he’s gone, the door gaping open after him.

Time is the last thing I have here. Soon, I’ll meet

with Will. And I’ll leave with him. I reach this decision with blinding-bright clarity. Any lingering doubt I have about that is completely gone.

After my shift the following day, I head for Az’s house on the opposite end of the township. I have to see her. I have to make things right before I leave. As much as I can, anyway.

She opens the door for me. With an arched eyebrow, she stares for a long moment before motioning me inside with an elegant flick of her hand.

She soundlessly marches up the stairs to her room, her long blue-streaked hair swishing fluidly down her back. At the bottom of the stairs, I get sidetracked when her mom spots me as she comes out of the kitchen.

“Jacinda!” Sobha pulls me into a hug. I don’t hug her back right away, too surprised. I’d forgotten how nice it felt to have another pride member show me such warmth. “It’s about time you came around. I remember when you were here practically every other night.”

I remember those days, too. After I manifested and Tamra failed to do so, my friendship with Az grew even more. We were inseparable.

“Mom,” Az calls down.

“Oh, I won’t keep you.” She pats me fondly on the shoulder. “Go on up.”

Az’s room is everything I remember. Bright pinks and blues, posters of the ocean. I approach one shot of Carmel beach. As girls we would talk about taking our tours together and going there. Back when I thought the pride would allow me to go. Now I realize that was always unlikely. They valued me too greatly to ever risk losing me, and everyone knew that draki sometimes never returned from their tours.

Still, we dreamed, believing when we were eighteen it would be our time. Our turn. Like so many draki before us, we would venture out and live for a year among humans, learning the ways of the outside world before returning to the pride.

Smiling, I brush a palm against the glossy-cool paper. The beach set against the verdant hillside looks like something out of an Italian travel brochure. Maybe Az would still get to swim beneath those cerulean blue waters in full manifest. Only without me.

I drop down on her bed, plucking a fuzzy heart-shaped pillow from the mound at the top of the bed. I hug it to my chest. “I’ve missed this room.”

She stands at her window, her pose stiff, her thin arms crossed over her chest. “Yeah,” she says crossly. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“I miss you,” I add, determined to get to the point. I don’t have time for much else.

“You have a funny way of showing it. You went off and—”

“I didn’t choose to leave here,” I insert, but she ignores me and keeps talking.

“And fell for some human. You manifested in front of him.” She presses a hand to her heart. “I can’t believe you would put us all in danger like that. The Jacinda I know would never—”

“The Jacinda you know couldn’t stand by and watch him die.” My fingers ache where they clutch the pillow. “Not when I could do something about it. He fell off a cliff, Az. There wasn’t time to think. I just acted.” I stare hard at her, pleading, willing for her to understand.

She studies me for a long moment before asking, “Would you have stayed there? If Cassian hadn’t come for you?” Her voice is no longer angry now, just hurt, and I want to lie. I want to spare her from any pain, but I’ve lied enough lately.

“Yes. I think I would have.”

After a long moment, she shakes her head. With a loud sigh, she drops down beside me and gives me a playful shove. “I hope he was hot at least.”

A smile tugs my mouth. This is the funny, quirky Az I love and remember. My smile slips and I look at her intently, willing her to never forget this moment, these words: “He’s really special, Az. That day we snuck out and the hunters chased us, he saw me; he let me go. He’s the reason I escaped. He cares about me for me. Not because of what I am.” I laugh hoarsely. “I’ve never been able to say that about any other guy.” Although lately, the way Cassian looks at me—no, I shove that thought away. I’m leaving with Will.

She stares down at her hands and nods slowly. “I guess I can understand that.”

“I need you to,” I whisper fervently. “I really need you to.”

She lifts her gaze to mine, and I read the silent question in her eyes. A question I won’t answer. When they come to her, I want her to look them in the face and tell them in all honesty that she knew nothing of my plans.

“I do,” she finally says.

I can’t stop myself then. I pull her close for a hug. Squeezing her, I say, “Thanks.” My voice catches and she smooths her hand down my hair.

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore. When have I ever been able to stay mad at you? I think this was definitely a record.”

I start to laugh and the sound turns into a wet hiccup. “Just remember that next time I tick you off.”

“Planning a next time already?” she teases.

Something tightens in my chest. “Just in case,” I hedge.

“Oh, Jacinda.” She shakes her head at me. “So doom and gloom. Don’t worry about what hasn’t even happened. Just live in the moment.”

I sniffle and swipe a hand at my nose. “I am.” My gaze sweeps the room, searching, the tightness in my chest easing when I spot what I’m looking for on her desk. “Now. How about a game of cards?”

I stay at Az’s until her mom comes in and warns me that it’s twenty minutes until curfew. With a hurried good-bye and a promise to see her tomorrow, I leave, my heart lighter to have made amends with Az. Hopefully she’ll remember tonight and understand when she hears that I’ve gone.

When I arrive home, I head down the hall, eager for a shower. Bumping into my sister coming out of her room is the last thing I expect.

“Tamra, I didn’t know you were coming over.”

Her face doesn’t crack an expression and it’s so reminiscent of when we were kids—when she would get really mad at me and try to look so very stern—that I have to fight back a smile. “It’s still my house, Jacinda. I grew up here.”

“Of course.”

The awkward moment stretches between us as we stand in the tight space of the corridor. She finally breaks the silence by motioning behind her to her door. “I needed to get a few things.”

I nod, having nothing to say . . . everything to say. And yet words fail me.

She starts to move past me, and I watch her, my heart in my throat, thinking of the horrible scene with Cassian. And yet it only confirms that leaving Tamra might be the best thing for her, might give her just what she needs. A life where she’s able to shine in her own light. Without me to share it.

She turns as if struck with a thought. “I checked in on Mom. What’s going on? She doesn’t look good.”

“She’s not,” I answer matter-of-factly before I can think about candy-coating the truth. When I go, Tamra better know about what’s going on with Mom. Mom’s going to need her. They’ll need each other. “They’re working her long hours. Punishing her, I guess.”

Tamra’s voice comes out weakly. “I didn’t know.”

“You might have some pull now. Maybe you can get them to lay off her a little.”

She nods. “I’ll try.”

“And she’s drinking too much, sneaking verda wine from the clinic. . . .”

“That doesn’t sound like her.”

I don’t like the accusation I hear in her voice. Like I’m either lying or I’m the reason our mother has taken solace in a bottle. “I’ve been trying to get her to eat at least. But she’s had a rough time over the last few weeks. She’s depressed.”

“Why haven’t you told me any of this?”

“You haven’t asked.”

She blinks and I know I’ve stung her. Maybe unfairly. Tamra didn’t ask for what happened to her, after all. She didn’t ask to move in with Nidia and leave Mom. She’s just trying to cope. Like I am. “Look,” I say, “just don’t forget about her. She needs you.” Because I won’t be here.

Tamra stares at me curiously before nodding slowly. She moves for the door. Her hand is on the knob when I hear myself blurt, “I’m sorry, Tamra.”

She looks over her shoulder. One glimpse into her eyes and I know she understands what I’m talking about. It’s been there between us since I walked into the house. Cassian.

“For what? Being what he wants?”

“I’m not,” I insist. “He just doesn’t know it.”

“And he never will.” She doesn’t sound angry as she says this. Simply tired, defeated. She reminds me a bit of Mom in that moment, or at least what Mom’s become lately. Again, I can’t help wondering whether my leaving might be the best thing for both of them. Having me around hasn’t made life easy for either of them.

“Good night, Tam,” I say, but what I really hear myself saying is good-bye. Soon I’ll be gone.

“Night, Jace.” With a nod, my sister leaves the house.

Chapter 15

After Tamra leaves, I shower and change into pajama bottoms and a tank top. The television flickers blue light down the hall from Mom’s room.

As I walk the darkened hallway, the wood floor creaks beneath my feet. I have a flash of me, years ago, tiptoeing down the same hall into my parents’ room. Never Tamra. Just me. I would crawl carefully across the cool sheets of their bed and sandwich myself between them, feeling so safe and loved with their arms wrapped around me.

In the morning, I would always wake to a lecture about needing to be a big girl and sleeping in my own bed. And yet a few days later, I would find my way back to my parents’ room. They never turned me away.