"Let's see... Try these." Noah pulls a t-shirt from a neat pile and a button-down from the rack in his closet, which is organized by color, and holds them out to me.

I accept the garments reluctantly and set them aside while I undress. As I lift my thin shirt over my head, I hear a soft gasp and look up to find Noah staring at my torso.

I look down at myself and grimace.

I'd been mauled by the wolves of Elena's brother's pack when they'd tried to take our parent's territory, and I still have scars. Unlike Noah, I'm blessed with quick healing, though not like Freya and Dane. My wounds heal faster than usual, but not perfectly, and even Ambrose's healing gift hadn't erased all trace of injury. I'd gotten used to the marks, and Sky hadn't mentioned them, so I'd thought perhaps they weren't very noticeable.

Noah's look of horror tells me I was wrong.

I turn aside, though my back isn't any better than my front, and hastily pull on the borrowed clothes.

Recovering himself, Noah clears his throat and turns back to his closet. "And um... trousers. How about these?"

He turns and hands me a pair of stylish jeans. I take them and put them on. They're a little short in the leg, but fit well enough.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

Noah rests a hand on my shoulder. "Martin... it's not a favor. You're my brother."

Grateful that Sky chose to wait in the hall, I take a breath and force myself to speak. "Actually... I have a favor to ask you."

"Anything."

I laugh. "Don't agree yet. It's a doozy, as Mom would say."

Noah shakes his head and repeats himself firmly. "Anything."

I clear my throat. "I'd like... I'd like to name you and Ambrose as the children's legal guardians. In my will. Just in case."

Noah blinks, and then, to my mild alarm, his eyes fill with tears and he pulls me into a hug.

"There's no need for that," he says, "because you're gonna be fine, Martin. But... we'd be honored, anyway. Just in case."

I nod against his shoulder, my throat too tight to speak. He releases me and gives me a moment to collect myself before we rejoin Sky in the hall. Then, feeling like I'm entering a monster's lair, I descend the stairs.

∼∼∼

The door to the sitting room is shut, and I pause before it, my heart fluttering like a panicked bird. Sky rests his hand on my back, and I lean into him and take a deep breath.

"Okay?" he asks.

I give a slight nod, straighten my spine, and enter the room.

Dane sits in the center of a large sofa, his mere presence occupying the entire space, while Ambrose lounges by the mantlepiece, insouciant as bored nobility.

Elena sits apart in a chair, ignoring the two men as she checks her makeup in a small mirror.

She looks up when we enter. I feel her eyes rake over me like a physical touch and fail to suppress a shudder. She looks unimpressed.

"Martin."

"Elena."

I give her a stiff nod and take a seat on the settee beside Sky, acutely conscious of the eyes that follow me.

"How are the children?"

I frown. "They're none of your concern."

She lifts a thin shoulder and waves a manicured hand — a hand that shakes a little — and tucks the mirror back in her purse. "Fine. Pleasantries aside, how are you? And no, I'm not asking because I care."

There's a brittle edge to her tone, and I finally allow myself to take in her appearance more thoroughly.

Her hair, makeup and clothes are flawless, as usual. Her lustrous red tresses look straight from the salon, her outfit probably costs more than my entire wardrobe, and her makeup looks ready for a magazine cover shoot. Beneath this veneer, however, is a different story.

Like me, Elena has lost weight, and her bronze skin looks sallow despite her makeup, and oddly thin, as if it's stretched too tightly across the bones of her face. She fidgets and jiggles her leg — telling habits I don't recall my stone cold mate exhibiting before. She looks more like an addict in need of a hit, or a smoker in the throes of withdrawal, than the steel-willed woman I remember.

"I think you know how I am," I say, finally answering her question and meeting her honey-gold eyes, which I had once found so startlingly beautiful. "Why are you here?"

"Because I want something, of course," she says, and arches a brow at Ambrose.

He draws a slow breath through his long nose and narrows his eyes at her.

"Loathe as I am to admit it, she's telling the truth," he says.

"Of course I'm telling the truth," she snaps, huffing and crossing her arms. "I'm no fool. I know what I'm up against. So, your turn — how have you been this past year? Thriving and living your best life without me? I think not. In fact, let me guess: you can't sleep, you barely eat, and you haven't Shifted in a year."

I stare at her. If I lie, Ambrose will know it; if I tell the truth, everyone will know it.

"Close enough," I whisper.

Elena sneers. "Try 'spot on.' Do you know how I know? Because I'm the same." She laughs bitterly, and shoots a venomous glance at Dane. "If only you'd stuck to tradition, for once, and killed me — as you had every right to do — none of this would have happened."

"Not too late to fix past mistakes," he says, returning her glare.

"No, it isn't," she agrees with a sneer, though she breaks eye contact first. "But we both know you won't. You're far too noble for that. Instead, you'll let your brother suffer a slow, painful death — wasting away, day by day, until his heart finally gives out and fails."

Dane's gaze shifts to Ambrose.

"Is that true?" he asks.

Ambrose runs a hand through his long auburn curls and casts me an apologetic look. "She believes it to be."

"I'm asking you," Dane growls. "You're the healer here. Is Martin sick?"

Ambrose sighs. "I don't know. All I can say is I've noticed a decline. Although..." his gaze shifts to Sky. "In the past few months, I thought I saw improvement."

"There is improvement!" I insist. "If I was tired and stressed, it was only because I had too much on my plate and..." I glance at Dane and wince. "... and because I didn't ask for help. Sky helped me see I didn't have to do everything alone. He helped me see I wasn't..."

"Worthless? Irredeemable? Pathetic?" Elena suggests, a cruel quirk to her lips, and shakes her head. "You were always a slut for punishment."

My vision darkens at the edges, and I'm aware of several people rising to their feet. I hold out my hand to stay the imminent slaughter and force myself to speak.

"I was naïve, and stupid, and desperate for love," I rasp. "You were a spider on the hunt for prey, and I fell into your web. But that's all over now. You have no right coming here and saying we're still bound somehow. I have a new mate. You and I are done."

"Believe me," she sneers, "I wish that were so. I've tried to move on as well. I thought finding a new mate would solve the problem, so I reconnected with an old flame. We bonded, but something prevented the true mate-bond from taking hold. I thought it might be because he wants children and I have no desire to be a mother again. So I played that old card and told him Nico and Rio were his. We'd fucked enough for it to be true. Then you had to go and ruin things with that test. I thought you'd be glad to have fewer mouths to feed."

She huffs and crosses her arms, and I stare at her for a handful of seconds as my brain struggles to comprehend the incomprehensible. She waves her hand dismissively.

"Never mind. I'd been looking for an opportunity to take them, since you wouldn't give them up willingly, when by pure chance I ran into Miguel — almost literally. I'd have thought you'd at least teach the children how to cross a street. At any rate, once I got him talking, he confirmed a few things for me, and now I believe I understand. It's your Wolf that won't let go, that still clings to the rotting strands connecting us like the tendons of a severed limb."

"Impossible." I shake my head. "The last thing I ever wanted was to see you again."

"Well, what is it then?" Elena demands. "Tell me, Martin. Why can't you sleep? Why do you torment yourself? Why do you deny yourself even the most basic pleasures? Why can't you Shift, and why won't you let anyone help you? Why did you suffer alone for so long when—"

"Because I should have DIED!"

In the ringing silence, I struggle to catch my breath, aware of every eye on me. Gasping, I glare at Elena and I force myself to continue in a more level tone.

"Because I deserved to die for what I did. That's why."

She smiles sharply. "And there it is."

Dane looks stricken. "Martin... Is that true? Is that really what you believe?"

When I can't bring myself to answer, he glances at Ambrose, who stands with his fingers pressed to his lips. Ambrose nods once, indicating I haven't lied.

Dane leans towards me, but I shake my head and keep my eyes on my former mate. "It doesn't matter what I believe. I didn't die. I was spared. And so were you."

Elena nods. "And that is the problem. 'Till death do us part' really is the way with Wolves. Living Mates separate so infrequently, we may be the only pair alive to have done so. We haven't done so cleanly, anyway, and whatever thin strands still bind us, they are poison. You will never forgive me; I will never respect you. We need to sever these putrescent ties for both our sakes, or we shall both perish." She draws a deep breath and sits back in her chair. "Martin Hunter, I have never, and will never, love you. I don't even love our children. In fact, I think I am incapable of love, and I have stopped blaming myself for that. However, I have an objective interest in my offspring, and for their sake, if for nothing else, I would prefer they not be orphaned. I believe we have that in common, at least."

Rubbing my hands over my face, I release my breath in a long sigh. "What do you propose?"

"I believe we need to perform a separation ritual," she says. "Sever the bond properly. Give our Wolves the closure that yours, at least, seems to need."

"What ritual?" Dane asks.

Elena shrugs. "Nothing complicated. A simple ritual of Parting should do."

"What's that?" Sky asks.

As he speaks, I become aware that he's holding my hand and that I have his fingers locked in what must be a painful grip. Loosening my hold on him, I take another breath.

"It's something we do when a Wolf leaves the Pack. Usually to join an unrelated Pack — one outside the family. We did it for Travis when he left to live with Chiaki. It helps the Wolf bond with a new Pack and helps prevent the worst of homesickness. It's done when a Wolf dies, too. It's like a formal goodbye."

"Ah, I see. Can we do it now?"

"It's best done at the new moon," I say.

"Which was two days ago."

"The full moon will do just as well," Elena says, studying her nails.

I glance at Sky. "I think we might have... a prior engagement."

"This is him then?" she asks, jutting her chin at Sky. "Your new 'mate'?"

For the first time in this strange conversation, I'm able to give a firm, definitive answer. "Yes. He is."

Elena's lip draws back in a sneer. "Hm. You always were a weak-willed little bitch. I should have known what you really wanted was a cock up your ass."

Before I can reply, I startle as the sleeves of Ambrose's shirt vanish in a burst of smokeless fire, leaving nothing but a fine gray ash on his bare arms.

"Ah — beg pardon," he says, dusting himself off. "I was just wondering if it was possible to selectively incinerate a person's tongue. Got a bit excited there."

At my side, Sky tilts his head at Elena, studying her with a perplexed expression. "I don't know what you mean," he says. "Martin is the most resilient person I've ever met. And I don't know what cocks have to do with anything, but in our last coupling, it was I who had—"

I nudge him sharply in the ribs. As charming as his unfiltered style can be, the last thing I need is my family imagining that while...

Dane's slightly unfocused look tells me it's too late, and I clear my throat loudly to bring the attention back to myself and the present.

"All that aside. You followed us to the coast once already to threaten poor Dr. Howard. If you truly think this ritual is the answer to our problems, then you can follow us there again, because that's where we'll be at the full moon."

I glance around the room, conscious of Sky's hand in mine as I meet Dane and Noah's eyes in turn. Just about every painful secret I have has been laid bare; might as well drop another bomb while I'm at it.

"Besides. A parting ritual might not be such a bad idea," I say. "Depending on how things go in the meantime, you might not be the only one saying goodbye."