I was two seconds from threatening to lock her back up when she gave in with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, I’l stay. But I could use a shower.”

Thank goodness. I really hadn’t wanted to physical y detain her after al she’d been through already. “Through the living room and down the hall. Second door on the right. I can’t vouch for how clean it is.”

“So long as there’s soap and hot water, I don’t care.” She turned on her heel, stil clearly irritated with me. The shower started a minute later, and soon afterward, sobs joined the rhythm of the running water, with a halting, hiccuping beat of their own. I wished there was somewhere I could go to give her privacy. She had the right to grieve for her innocence alone, but I wasn’t wil ing to go back into the basement.

Ten minutes later, Abby joined me in the kitchen. She was wearing the same clothes but she smelled like soap and her hair was clean, hanging halfway down her back in damp curls.

“Feel any better?” I asked, kicking out the chair opposite me at the table.

“No.” She wrapped her hands around the curved chair back. “Just cleaner. And hungry.”

“Help yourself.” I nodded toward the refrigerator.

She chose three frozen breakfast burritos, stuffing them al in the microwave at once. We sat in silence until the timer buzzed, then I watched her chew as I tried to think of something to say. We’d been through a lot together in the last couple of days, but somehow discussing any of it seemed wrong, like a child’s reluctance to talk about a bad dream for fear of it coming true. Only, our nightmares already had.

Abby stared out the kitchen window as she ate, her expression one of desperate longing. I knew how she felt, like as long as we were still in that house, we weren’t really free. Like Miguel might return at any minute and lock us back up.

Like we were stupid for staying when we were free to escape. Every instinct I had, both cat and human, told me to grab her hand and run as far and as fast as I could.

But I didn’t, because I’d told Daddy we would wait for the enforcers, and it’s never a good idea to break your word to an Alpha. The only guy I knew who’d done that walked with a permanent limp and wore false teeth. Including his canines.

Outside, an engine growled as a vehicle approached the house. My head snapped up. I stared out the window but couldn’t see it yet. My breath caught in my throat as I waited for the car to pass. But it didn’t. It pul ed into the driveway.

Twin rectangles of light flashed on the wal , sunlight reflecting off chrome to shine through the window in the front door.

Abby froze, her last bite halfway to her mouth. Her hand shook in terror.

I wanted to look out the window but couldn’t chance exposing myself. I glanced at the clock. Marc was fast, but not that fast. It couldn’t be him. Not yet.

Abby dropped her food on the table. She didn’t even pause when she missed the plate. She stood quickly. Her chair fel over, clattering on the linoleum. She backed slowly toward the living room. Her eyes never left the front door.

My heart pounded. Adrenaline surged through my veins as my body prepared to fight. I wouldn’t let him put his hands on me again. I wouldn’t go back in the cage. Not as long as I was breathing. After that, it wouldn’t matter.

Outside, one car door opened, followed by another. Heavy footsteps thumped up the porch steps. The front door flew open, splintering the rectangles of light into shards of shadow.

Marc cal ed my name.

Relief washed through me like an Arctic wave, extinguishing flames of rage that had flared up especial y for Miguel. My arms hung limp at my sides, my fingers tingling. I was numb with shock, frozen in place.

“Faythe?” Marc called again.

“We’re in here.” Abby flew past me into the dining room and threw herself at Marc, hanging from his neck like a Velcro-pawed monkey. He tried to pry her off, but she clung to him, sobbing as if she’d discovered a fresh reserve of tears. Marc glanced at me over her head and motioned for help, but I just watched them. I couldn’t move.

Someone peeled Abby’s arms from Marc’s neck, but I didn’t see who, because I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his. When he was free—Abby now clinging to someone else—he stared at me from across the room.

What? I thought. What is he waiting for? Then I understood. He thought I’d left him. He thought I’d run out on him again without a word of warning, as I’d done five years earlier. And I had. Only this time I’d meant to come back, even if only to explain.

I smiled hesitantly, and he smiled back, his eyes shiny with tears. I didn’t so much see him move as feel the air displaced in his wake. The next moment, I was in his arms, my feet dangling several inches from the floor while he squeezed me hard enough to crack my spine.

He lowered me slowly, watching my eyes as I slid down the front of his body.

He was searching for rejection, or even doubt. If he’d seen any, he might have actual y given up. He might have final y believed I didn’t love him. It was the opportunity I’d been waiting for. Only I was no longer sure I wanted it.

The one thing I was sure of was that I wanted to lay my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. So I did. He wrapped his arms around me, and for a long moment neither of us moved.

“How the hel did you get here so fast?” I asked, my battered cheek pressed into his shirt.

“He nearly blew up Dad’s van, that’s how,” Ethan said. I glanced up to see his usual goofy grin, and eyes a shade greener than I remembered. He was happy to see me. It was mutual. “He drove a hundred miles an hour almost al the way from Louisiana.”