This was my pack.
My scent match.
I shut my eyes, feeling a wave of grief crash in, held at bay by rage and vengeance, blood and death, as if it made a difference to the agony she’d already suffered.
Her scent calmed, as if, somehow, I might have done something right.
“You protected us when I couldn’t,” I breathed. “I hated you for it, and I’m so… so sorry.”
With tears glistening in her eyes, she was so fucking beautiful as she stared down at me. Dark cardamom settled further as she took her time processing my words.
“I want you to forgive me when… when I’ve earned it.” I couldn’t take anything less from her. I didn’t know how.
She nodded, still a little unsure, but opened her mouth as if about to speak when her eyes flickered up, drifting around the room for only a moment before stopping behind me.
She went still, a frown on her face, and the world rushed in.
Oh…
I staggered to my feet, but she was already crossing toward the counter.
“Hold up—” I darted in front of her, but she tried to duck under me, eyes wide. I grabbed her. “Just?—!”
“Are those?—?”
“No.”
“They’re fingers!” Her voice was weak.
Ah, shit.
I let her go, since it was too late anyway, and she reached the counter, gripping it. There was a long silence as I tried to come up with the right way to say it, but she spun on me, chestnut eyes bright.
“That’s…” Her breathing was tight, shock taking over her expression. “Those are… Wait. The roses… His pack?”
I nodded stupidly.
“They’re dead?”
“Yeah.”
“You killed them?”
“That… is what happened.”
Was she angry? Afraid? Shocked? I couldn’t tell.
“How did you know where they were?”
“Kyan had some… guesses.”
All of which were correct. I was going to have to talk to him about that. He knew far more than he was letting on.
“It was a stupid plan. I don’t know what I was—” I cut off. I’d reached out to put them back in the box, but she caught my wrist, a little growl in her chest.
Oh. All right then.
She was staring at them with strange curiosity, and her eyes looked funny.