I glance around that bedroom now, Mom all alone in that great big bed. I always felt at peace here, with them in that bed. Nothing could touch me then.

I move to turn off the television.

“It’s all my fault.”

I freeze at the sound of Mom’s voice. Her tone is so soft; I inch closer to the bed. “What, Mom?”

“None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me.” Her gaze fixes blindly on the television without glancing my way. “I should have taken you anywhere, but I took you there.”

At first I don’t understand. “Where?”

“Because I was selfish and wanted to remember . . .”

“Remember what?”

“Your father.” She turns her face into the pillow then, muffling the sound of what I suspect are tears. This shakes me. I can’t remember Mom crying. Not even when Dad went missing.

“Chaparral. It was the only place your father and I ever had together. Even if just for a few days, before he persuaded me to come back here. It was just the two of us there. No pride. Just us in the desert sky.”

I resist telling her that they didn’t go unnoticed. At least she hadn’t. She’d been spotted flying. It was because of her that Will’s family moved there. While most people dismissed a draki sighting as some weird bird, or a contrived device—an alleged UFO—others took note. Hunters paid attention to such reports.

But I can’t blame her. I understand what it’s like to take risks for someone you love . . . to break rules to be with someone you love. I angle my head, studying my mother. I always thought I was like Dad but maybe I’m more my mother’s daughter than I ever realized.

“It’s not your fault,” I say, turning off the television and moving to tuck the covers around her that she’s kicked off.

She settles back to sleep without a sound. After a moment of staring down at her shadowy figure, I slip into bed beside her, beneath the cool, familiar sheets. I position myself close, so that I feel her warmth.

Sliding a hand between my cheek and a pillow, I close my eyes and reach for the peace I once found here.

Even though I made up my mind days ago, my hand shakes as I sign my name to the letter. This is it. There’s no going back from this moment. After carefully folding the paper four ways, I place it on the pillow beside the first note I wrote. I figured Mom and Tamra each deserve their own letter.

For a second, I hear the creak of a floorboard and stiffen, looking over my shoulder, afraid Mom is back from work early. I stare at the open door of my room and wait several moments, but nothing. Not a sound. Sighing, I return my attention to the letters, hoping that constant unease, the sense that I am always watched, will abandon me once I’m gone from here.

Both notes are brief, to the point. I tell Mom and Tamra how much I love them. How much I will miss them. I ask them not to worry about me, that I’m seizing my own happiness, and I hope they will do the same.

Eyes burning, I smooth a hand over the letters, the paper crinkling beneath my fingers. I don’t specify where I’m going—or with whom. But they will know. They’ll read between the lines. And I hope they understand. Straightening, I grab my backpack from the floor. With a quick glance around my childhood room, I leave it all behind.

“Where you headed in such a rush?” For a moment I consider pretending I don’t hear Corbin behind me. I’d managed to avoid him lately. “Jacinda! Wait up.”

Sighing, I stop. I should at least look like I’m trying to assimilate back into pride life and talk to him. Instead of hurrying off to escape, like I am.

I face Corbin. “To Nidia’s.”

“Tamra’s not there. She’s working out on the flight field. We can join her if you want.”

“I’m not in the mood,” I reply and turn, continuing toward Nidia’s. It’s almost noon.

Only Corbin doesn’t go away.

I realize I might actually have to go inside Nidia’s house to back up my claim if he doesn’t leave. Not that I have a plan on how I’m going to get past the guard on duty, anyway. I’m just trusting that a solution will present itself.

“You want to go to the rec later?” Corbin asks, like this might be a possibility. Like I’ve softened toward him.

“No, thanks.”

“Jacinda, when are you going to quit playing so hard to get?”

I keep walking, my annoyance evident with every jarring step. “I’m not playing anything.”

“Well, you’re going to be paired with someone eventually.”

My skin tightens, prickles at this. Because he’s probably right. The pride won’t allow me to remain mate-less for many more years. Either I choose someone—Severin approved, of course—or I’ll be assigned to someone. All the more reason to put as much distance between myself and the pride.

“Cassian isn’t going to—”

“I don’t care about Cassian,” I snap, hating the surge of heat in my face at the obvious lie.

He’s been in my head ever since I returned here, right there beside Will.

I misjudged Cassian. He doesn’t want me because I’m the pride’s coveted fire-breather. It’s not like I’ve always thought. Otherwise, he would want Tamra, my twin, now a draki of equal, if not higher, status.

Impossible as it seems, Cassian wants me. For me.

The realization only infuriates me. My heart belongs to Will. I don’t need Cassian complicating things . . . making hard what should be easy. Why couldn’t he just want Tamra?

Thoughts of Will and Cassian have tangled together like strings hopelessly knotted. Only today that ends. Today I choose.

Corbin stops. I stop, too, and look him in the face with all the coldness I feel in my heart when I gaze upon him.

“Good to hear you don’t care about Cassian,” he announces. “That means there’s nothing in our way.”

I shake my head. “Look, Corbin, you and I aren’t going to happen. Ever.”

“We’ll see,” he murmurs with a sly smile, like he knows something I don’t. He flicks a glance over my shoulder, as though he sees something there. I follow his gaze but see nothing. “Tell Nidia hello for me.”

He leaves then and I continue toward Nidia’s house, more convinced than ever that I need to leave.

The guard on duty isn’t Levin this time. Unlucky for me, this one actually looks like he’s taking his job seriously—even stares hard at me as I knock on Nidia’s door, my mind feverishly working at a plan to get past him and meet Will.

I knock again. No answer. Feeling his gaze on me, I casually turn down the street like I’m heading back to the center of town. Once I’m far enough away that he can’t see me, I swing a hard left into some bushes. Heart hammering, I push through the thick foliage that backs up against several houses and loop around, coming up on the backside of Nidia’s cottage.

Looking around wildly, I reassure myself that no one’s nearby before quickly stripping off my clothes. With a deep breath, I let myself go.

The familiar pull begins in my chest, a tight, twisting heat. Moist air surrounds me, feeding my draki.

My human exterior fades away, buries itself as my face tightens, cheeks sharpening and stretching . . . transforming. My breathing changes, becomes deeper, hotter as ridges push out from the bridge of my nose. My muscles loosen, lengthen. I angle my face to the sky, relish the sensation of wet wind.

My wings grow. I sigh as they release themselves, unfurl with a gentle whisper on the air, enjoying the freedom. My draki skin glimmers, the fiery gold reflecting what little sunlight sifts through the afternoon mist.

Snatching my clothes, I stuff them into my backpack and stare accusingly at the ivy-tangled wall, sick of the sight of it. Tired of living in a cage. Looping the strap of my backpack around my arm, I ready myself.

In an easy move, I spring, launching myself over the perimeter wall.

Already manifested, I don’t even bother landing on my feet. I plunge into the woods, cutting through the air, weaving through trees. I don’t go too far. Just far enough to put the pride behind me.

With an exultant breath, I lower to the ground, luxuriating in the stretch of my wings, like two great sails behind me. Setting down on the balls of my feet, I tuck myself behind a large tree and demanifest. My wings fold together. I urge them down, draw them deep between my shoulder blades.

Heavy breath saws from my lips. Not from exhaustion. I’m built for much more exertion. This is all adrenaline. Fear and excitement course through me and simmer in my veins.

I dress quickly, stabbing my legs clumsily into my shorts, all the while listening for a distant alert . . . any indication that I’d been spotted leaving the township. Nothing.

After several moments my breathing eases. I did it. I slipped away undetected.

Hitching my backpack over one shoulder, I shove off from the tree and head for the glade. For Will.

Chapter 16

Too much time has passed. I stare up at the trees, peer through the branches, and soak up the sunlight filtering down between the breaks and gaps. The paltry light settles on my human skin and sits there, flat, not like when it catches on my draki skin and shimmers like flame.

Birds chirp, talk to each other in overlapping calls. The wind whistles slow and low through the towering trees.

Will, where are you?

I hug myself, chafe my hands up and down my arms. It’s been almost an hour, and still I wait, my heart sinking, despondency creeping into my heart. He isn’t coming.

I’ll be missed soon. If he’s not coming . . . if I’m not leaving, then I can’t stay much longer. Not unless I want to be caught.

Still, I linger, alternating between sitting, standing, and pacing the misty glade where I last saw him. Holding each other and whispering dreams and promises. Impossible dreams, but still I let myself hope.

I glance around, study the press of forest as if he’ll emerge from the shadows at any moment.

I don’t know quite when I notice it, but I fall still, utterly motionless. And listen.

Total silence. Unnatural.

I’m not alone. My skin ripples with awareness of this fact. Someone else has arrived. Excitement bubbles up in my chest, and I feel like I just downed one of the fizzy orange sodas Dad always bought me on our trips to town.

Will. My gaze scans the fringe of trees and brush surrounding me, hungry for the sight of him. And yet something stops me from saying his name. From calling out.

The silence hangs, swinging into this eerie, living thing, breathing menacingly all around me.

And then I realize whoever’s out there—isn’t Will. Will would have revealed himself by now. He wouldn’t do this to me.

A sound breaks the stillness. Something wrong for the setting. No bird call, no rustle of wind through the mist-shrouded trees.

A twig cracks. Just once. As if a body moved, tested its weight, and stopped. My gaze focuses on that spot, staring hard into the dense foliage.

“Who’s there?” I finally ask.

Nothing.

Countless possibilities race through my mind. Did someone follow me? Corbin? The guard? Or is it a hunter? One of Will’s family?

It occurs to me that waiting to find out is a bad idea. I push into the trees, slap at branches as I head away from the glade and away from the township. Just in case it’s a hunter . . . I can’t lead them back there.

And there it is again. Footsteps keeping a steady pace behind mine. Gratified that I’m not paranoid, I steer my thoughts into losing whoever it is trailing me. Definitely not a friend. A friend would announce himself.

Heat swims through my skin. I walk briskly, plunging deeper into the woods. My heart pounds with every step I take.

I tromp through high grass, wondering how a day that held such promise could twist so horribly into something else. I should be in Will’s arms, but instead I’m playing some sort of cat-and-mouse game. The snowcapped mountains peer down at me through the latticework of branches.