Page 111 of Our Deceptive Heat

For a moment, I forget that she’s not here, that my pack is falling apart, and I turn to reach out to her, to Envy, to Mako or Digs. To someone that I can share this with.

But there’s no one there.

The familiar feeling of complete desolation rips through me. My failures as pack leader are crushing me. It was my job to protect everyone, and I’ve failed spectacularly.

All I’ve done is hurt them.

Sita called me a week ago and cried on the phone, begging me to get her out. When I refused, the things she said that I normally would ignore struck true.

She said I’m selfish. It’s true, I am. She said I try so hard to rescue people but always fail. I can’t really deny that right now. Sita told me the people who say they love me would always abandon me because no one really does. They only care about my money and fame.

She laughed at me and told me that no woman in her right mind would want a weak, pitiful alpha like me.

I got off the phone and felt her toxic words sink into me, turning me cold from the inside out.

I have to find her. I have to know if I am what Sita said. If she didn’t really love me.

Because it felt real. It felt so real.

And to me, I love her as much as I love Envy, Mako, and Digs.

She is my soulmate, the other half of me. Is she faking it?

Does she hate me? Do I repulse her?

I shake the thoughts off and rub my hand over my face, wishing I could undo everything.

Our lawyers have been going backwards and forwards with Typhor Raines since the day after he ended things with us. The war they are waging is impressive, but dealing with it has exhausted me.

I am so tired of fighting and being strong.

I don’t care about our copyrights or the assets. I don’t care about anything but her.

Finally, the email I’ve been waiting for arrived in my inbox late last night. It said that they had reached a decision. Alpha Labels is keeping all our songs but the ones written by Ryn, which happens to be ninety percent of them.

We had to finish the tour, which we have done.

We move out of the mansions that have been bought for us, return all assets that the label purchased. Cars, staff, musical instruments. It was all on an itemized list.

I already sent the keys to the lawyers. Our stuff has been packed up and returned to Mama D’s house in Carmine.

It’s all over.

Why doesn’t it feel over?

I look up, and for a moment, I think I see her. My throat tightens, and I choke. I reach out a hand, clutching at the air.

Is that her or just another ghost? She’s wearing a white skirt and has all her long legs bare. The blue singlet is tight but fits her like a glove. She looks exactly like Ryn.

Down to the dark hair with streaks of turquoise and teal.

“RYN?”

The person stiffens, and then, in a swirl, vanishes into the crowd of people around her. Only the impression in my mind leaves me frozen in place, shocked and amazed.

A surge of life jolts me into movement, and I race across the sand, search through the crowd, pushing people out of the way.

I scream her name, almost in tears as I frantically search.

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