Shay’s fingers slid over my hip, drawing me back against him.

“Stop, Shay. Don’t.” My voice quaked as I rolled away from him. “I just . . . I can’t.”

I wanted him, but the flood of emotions pouring into me made me restless, uneasy.

He slid his arm around my waist. “Why not?”

It took me a moment to speak. “You know why.”

A low growl slithered from his throat. “He’s not here, you know. Your union, the alpha stuff, all of that—it’s over. You don’t have to keep acting like he has some kind of hold on you. I just wish you would—”

Shay didn’t know how wrong he was. Ren was here; somehow he was still with me, haunting my every move. Union or no, as alphas we’d had a fierce bond. It had always been there since the first day I’d met him and our union had been announced. That connection, that loyalty still tied me to Vail, and to him. The only thing that had made me question whether Ren and I were meant to be together was this boy who now lay beside me. And I wasn’t sure I knew what that meant.

Shay was silent, but I could feel his angry eyes boring into the back of my head.

“I don’t get it,” he said. “You’re free now, Cal. You want this.”

He was right. I did want this, but my own desires weren’t the only thing that compelled me.

“No, I’m not. Not really.” I sighed, flipping over to look at him. “I’m sorry, but until I know that my pack is safe, I don’t want to make any more choices that make me feel like I’ve abandoned them.”

As soon as the words were out, I knew how true they were. It wasn’t just Ren haunting me; it was the choices I’d made.

His mouth cut into a thin, sharp line. “Loving me is betraying your pack? Even after everything that’s happened, you’d still consider becoming Ren’s mate for their sakes?”

“I—I don’t know.” And I realized that I really didn’t know what I was going to do. I tried to make my voice coaxing. “With everything that’s going on, don’t you think it’s better if we keep things neutral? We have more important stuff to deal with than you, me, and Ren. Right?”

Even as I spoke, my fingers found Ren’s ring, tracing the shape of the band.

Shay’s pale green eyes hardened into agates. “More important stuff?”

“Like saving the world? This war we’re supposed to win for the Searchers? I’d call that important.” I’d tried to laugh along with the words but failed miserably.

Shay wasn’t laughing either. “Completely. Separate. Issues.”

“I know.” I couldn’t hold his gaze any longer. “It’s just. Okay—you’re not going to like this.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I just want you to tell me the truth.”

What if I don’t know the truth? What if my feelings slip through my fingers like water every time I try to grab hold of them?

“It’s not over,” I barely managed to whisper.

“What’s not over?”

“Me and Ren.”

“How can you say that?” he asked. “And why do you keep fidgeting?”

My heart froze when his eyes settled on my hand. “What is that?”

“Nothing.” I tried to shove my hand beneath a pillow, but he grabbed it and stared at the gleaming metal and deep blue sapphire.

“Calla.” He spoke slowly. “What is this?”

I cleared my throat, trying to stay calm despite my pounding heart. “It’s a ring.”

“A ring.” When he touched the braided white gold band, I snatched my hand away.

“He gave this to you.” I felt his entire body tense against mine and I heard him snarl. “Didn’t he?”

I nodded. For a moment I thought he would shift forms and bite me.

“When?” he asked, his eyes still hard.

“The night of the union.”

“Take it off.”

“What?” I pulled a pillow in front of me like a shield.

“Take it off,” he said again. “Why would you still wear a ring he gave you?”

“I don’t—” I choked out the words. “If I took it off, I might lose it.”

“So?”

I didn’t answer, dropping my gaze.

“So when you say it’s not over between you and Ren, do you mean you’re still engaged to him? Is that why you’re wearing his ring?” He sounded calm, but I knew he wasn’t. I could smell the torrent of emotions rolling off him. His anger swirled between us thick as wood smoke, and beneath that something else. My chest cramped when I recognized the subtle, bittersweet scent of grief—dust and wilting roses.

“That’s not what I mean . . . but I can’t be with you. Not like this.” My voice was shaking. “When he’s back there and God knows what is happening to him. To all of them. Shay, we left them behind. How can we think about anything else? I can’t. I just can’t.”

“But that doesn’t mean—”

“No.”

“Screw this.” He rolled off the bed. “Go to sleep, Calla. I won’t bother you any more tonight.”

My stomach knotted as he walked away. I fought the desire to run after him and instead rolled onto my back, staring at the twinkling stars I could see through the glass ceiling and hoping that at some point sheer exhaustion would drive me to sleep.