I jerked sideways when Connor grabbed my arm and tugged hard. He pulled me toward the unguarded door.

“We can’t leave him!” I shouted.

“We have to.” Connor stumbled into me as I fought to free myself but quickly regained his balance, locking his arms around me.

“Let me fight!” I struggled, desperate to go back but not wanting to hurt the Searcher who was dragging me away.

“No!” Connor’s face was like stone. “You heard him. We’re gone. And if you go wolf on me, I swear I’ll knock you out!”

“Please.” My eyes burned when I saw Ren’s fangs gleam and my breath stopped when Monroe dropped his swords.

“What is he doing?” I cried, dodging when Connor tried to grab me again.

“This is his fight now,” he said through clenched teeth. “Not ours.”

Ren jumped back as the swords clanged on the ground in front of him. Though his hackles were still raised, his growl died.

“Listen to me, Ren,” Monroe said, crouching to meet Ren at eye level, not looking at the other two wolves bearing down on him with cruel slowness. “You still have a choice. Come with me and know who you really are. Leave all this behind.”

Ren’s short, sharp bark ended in a confused whimper. The other three wolves continued stalking toward the Searcher, undeterred by their enemy having abruptly laid down his arms.

Connor’s arm swung around my neck, catching me in a painful headlock.

“We can’t watch this,” he snapped, slowly wrestling me out of the room.

“Ren, please!” I shouted. “Don’t choose them! Choose me!”

Ren turned at the desperation in my voice, watching Connor pull me through the doorway. He shifted forms, staring bewildered at Monroe’s outstretched hands, and took a step toward him.

“Who are you?”

Monroe’s voice shook. “I’m—”

“Enough! You’re a fool, boy,” Emile snarled at Ren before smiling at Monroe. “Just like your father.”

And then he was leaping through the air, shifting into wolf form—a thick bundle of fur, fangs, and claws. I saw him slam into Monroe, jaws locking around the unarmed man’s throat, a moment before I was whipped around.

Ren didn’t look at me when he spoke, ripping me free from the blur of memories. “When he laid down his swords, I thought he was crazy. Maybe suicidal. But there was something about his scent. It was familiar, like I knew it.”

I watched as he struggled to speak. “But what Emile said. I didn’t understand at first. Until he . . . until Monroe was bleeding. The scent of his blood. I knew there was a connection.”

“He loved your mother.” My tears ran so hot I could have sworn they were scoring my cheeks. “He tried to help her escape. A group of the Banes wanted to rebel.”

“When I was one,” he said.

“Yes.”

Ren sat on the bed, his face buried in his hands.

“Monroe left a letter.” I knelt in front of him. “He wanted us to bring you back.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Ren said.

“How can you say that?”

He lifted his face. The ragged expression on his face felt like claws in my chest.

“Where would I belong, Calla?” he asked. “I don’t have a place in that world. Even if my mother tried to go there and my father used to be there. Both of them are gone. Dead. Dead because of the life I do belong to. There isn’t anything that links me to the Searchers. I’d only be an enemy to them.”

I understood his feelings too well. We’d both lost so much. Our pack had been torn apart. Our families broken. But there was still hope. The Searchers proved themselves to me when I fought beside them. They weren’t so different from Guardians. We were all warriors, and we’d shed blood for each other. Our enemies had become friends, and the wolves could find a new home among the Searchers. I believed that, but I needed to make Ren believe it too.

I grabbed his hands, squeezing his fingers tight. “You do have a link to the Searchers.”

“What?” He was startled by my fierce words.

“Monroe has a daughter,” I said. “Her name is Ariadne.”

“He has a daughter?” Ren asked.

“You have a sister. A half sister.”

“Who’s her mother?” He stood transfixed, a flurry of emotions racing through his eyes.

“A woman who helped him when he was mourning Corrine,” I said. “But Adne’s mother is dead too.”

I bowed my head, thinking of how many people this war had destroyed. I pushed the grief away, trying to focus on Ren. “She’s two years younger than us. And she’s the reason I’m here.”

“She’s the reason,” he said.

“Yes,” I said, frowning as he scowled. “We should go.”

“You should go,” he murmured. “They want Shay and you. Even with a sister, I don’t fit into that equation.”

His words were like a slap in the face.

“It’s not enough.” He looked at me sadly. “She’s a Searcher. I’m a Guardian. What am I without a pack?”

My stomach lurched. How often had I asked that very question of myself? The pack was the essence of an alpha. We were meant to lead, to bond with our packmates. Take that away, and life lost its meaning.

His eyes were on me. “What do you want?”

“What?” I stared at him.

“Can you give me a reason to go with you?”

“I already have,” I said, quivering as his words sank in.

“No,” he said, leaning toward me. “You’ve given me reasons, but not your reason.”

“But—” My words were hushed, shaky.

His fingers traced the lines where my tears had fallen. It was a light touch, barely brushing my cheek. But it felt like flames chased each other across my skin.

“Give me a reason, Calla,” he whispered.

I gazed at him. Blood roared in my ears. My veins were on fire.

There wasn’t any doubt in my mind as to what he was asking. But I couldn’t give him what he wanted.

Ren’s dark eyes were full of pain, a pain for which he thought I was the only salve.

“Ren,” I whispered. “I want—”

And then I was leaning over him, my cropped hair brushing against his cheeks as I bent to kiss him. Our lips met and I felt like I was diving into oblivion. The kiss grew deep, immediate and hungry. He lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist, molding my body against his. Our kisses were so full of need, so long, so fierce that I could hardly gasp for breath. He laid me on the bed. Our bed.