Barren woods flashed by, endless branches glistening in ice frozen from the day's melt, all still, all dead despite the life strong headlights supplied. For those first ten minutes the monotonous tangle of twisted limbs and glittering vines eased hurried thoughts and panic over Becky's situation- where she was and if she'd be okay. What she'd do on her own scared me more than thoughts of her mother returning. She'd picked that drug-addled, sad excuse of a person off the pavement enough times to learn the usual haunts and gaunt faces of her addiction.

I would've given up on her mother years ago, but not Becky. No.

She'd spent her life chasing the love countless foster families couldn't provide, cut her teeth on schoolyard fights and abrasive relationships, and understood behavior and habit better than anyone I knew. Mom had sat her through at least half a dozen tirades trying to convince her to abandon biological anthropology and become a psychiatrist.

Becky genuinely believed she could bring her mom around. My heart bled for her and the pain she felt tonight.

She had a million acquaintances but only a handful of real friends. She'd stopped letting people in a long time ago. The girl who'd made more connections with horses than humans finally knew a love worthwhile in Darcy and Emma.

Heaven help the people standing in her way.

Orange eyes ducked behind a distant trunk, too fast and low to be anything other than a fox or hare. Hopes of seeing Amy gone in an icy flash, I relaxed shoulders I didn't realize had tightened and let the rear window cool my neck.

Tough and capable and inspiring as Becky was, in the end she had a purer heart than mine, and I feared she'd listen to it instead of her head and wind up a casualty.

Mentally gathering the details of a tentative plan, I asked Einar to book tickets for the earliest flight to Boston.

"Tickets?" His attention never drifted from the dark forest, even as he pulled out a phone. "You've got private jets."

I leaned between the front seats, surprise subdued by the night's mood. "Seriously?"

"The former queen has many luxuries you haven't utilized."

My arms dropped into my lap. What I would've given for a handful of crickets to muffle the ensuing silence.

Joronn's mention stirred waves of unease in my stomach. Her rise to fame and fortune hadn't come without a body count, and neither did mine. As much as I tried to distance myself from that vile woman, I had willingly taken her life.

But what kept me awake some nights, when the cold sweat of nightmares had faded and I was left staring at the recessed tile ceiling in the bed she once slept in, was the fact that I wasn't sorry, not about her or Kasper.

I massaged the lump in my throat, touching along the way the scars from the wolf's claws. No, not sorry one bit. "Can any cross the Atlantic?" I croaked.

"Two."

Excessive, if not useful. I wouldn't give Joronn much credit, but tonight her extravagance got me quicker to Becky. "Send one to the closest airport that can sustain a plane that size and we'll meet them there."

"Yes, ma'am."

I rolled my eyes but didn't bother with the name correction. Instead, I dug my phone out of the coat I'd draped over my legs rather than put on since the heater warmed the air to a toasty seventy degrees. I dialed Mom's number; if I called Dad, she'd wind up on the line anyway.

Even with the phone pressed to my ear Mom's annoyed voice blasted loudly enough for the guys to hear. "Where are you?"

"Hey, Mom." Truly, she was more patient than she used to be, but Mom's sharp tone was a scalpel proudly honed, especially considering I'd called out of the blue and not at our regularly scheduled time.

"Where?"

"The Engen's ranch."

"With Marcus?" Emphatic sigh. "Allison-"

"He does live there you know." The heel of my palm met my forehead with a soft thump. "Amy's hibernation ends any day now. I'm here for her."

Einar didn't bother disguising his laugh as a cough.

"Don't you use that precious animal as an excuse. He doesn't even have a degree."

"Neither do I." Stretching up tall, I tried to catch Marc's eye in the rearview mirror and mouthed 'Sorry.'

He shrugged, correctly focused on the dangers of driving unlit country roads rather than on the thinly veiled insults Mom slung.

"The difference is you will. Life got in your way for a while, but not forever. You need someone at your intellectual level, or one day you'll wake up and find yourself bored."

"Mom!" I turned down the volume as soon as I realized what she was saying, but I had a sinking suspicion Marc now knew exactly how little she thought of him. I yanked the hair tie from my bun in frustration and finger-combed my hair, something mindless to remain calm. In another life, Mom might've been a master angler; she always knew exactly the right bait to get me snapping. It took everything I had not to bring up Sigrid and her reindeer herding husband as an example of success. "I wasn't calling to argue." But that was how we communicated best. I'll never know how Dad endured all these years with us bickering over everything from boyfriends to the color of bedroom walls.

"My budding scientist won't defend her thesis?" Dad's warm hello and murmured words to Mom softened her. She sighed, and I imagined his satisfied smile as her hackles retreated. "How was your date with Niklas?"

"It was..." I glanced at Marc's disheveled hair. "Fine, I guess."

"Honestly, I didn't raise you to answer with insecurities. Ah, sorry, sorry. Paul, I hear it, I do." What was probably a newspaper crunched in her grasp. "Why are you calling, sweetheart?"

"Put speaker phone on, please." Struggling to begin, I fiddled with my hair a bit more and wound up snapping the elastic. I wasn't sure if it was because it was my parents and they loved Becky like a daughter, but for some reason explaining her situation to them and hearing their gasps had me misty-eyed. "...So I told her she could stay at our house. Is that okay? I'm booking a flight into Logan International now."

"Of course. There's some soups and steaks frozen. Probably get you a couple meals anyway," Dad said, brushing off the question in a slow, stunned breath. "Text her the location of the spare key."

"Already told her."

"No, text," Mom agreed. "She's registered half of everything said to her since this started."

"Al, don't let her leave. Make sure she knows she's never a guest. Make sure Darcy's family knows that, too. They shouldn't have to worry about accommodations." Dad knew as well I did she'd put up a fight about overstaying her welcome, but Darcy's family there might keep her in place. "Do we know how he is?"

"Next time we talk I'll find out."

"Poor kid. And Emma?"

I shook my head, forgetting he couldn't see.

Mom hesitated in the quiet. "I'll cancel my speaking appointments and the awards dinner and we'll arrive there sometime tomorrow evening after picking up Ellebelle from the dog sitter."

A year ago, I would never have expected such a sacrifice from the woman whose first love, before her husband and daughter, was the pursuit and spread of knowledge. A year ago, I would've been angrily insisting she come home. Tonight, I found myself defending the opposite. "You've been prepping for months and it's a couple days away."

"It's just a conference. They're giving me a plaque to congratulate me on a job I already know is well done. This is so much more."

"Who are you and what have you done with my mother?" I teased. "You earned this moment, Mom. Becky knows that too. She's excited for you. I'll ask her, but she's going to say the same thing. What happens now is out of our hands." For tonight, anyway. Only house arrest would keep us from hitting the streets tomorrow. "We'll play it by ear. The minute something changes, I'll let you know."

From the "hrumph" Mom wasn't thrilled, but she was understanding and doubtlessly appreciative. "Pass on our sympathy."

"And hugs." Dad's lengthy pause was likely due to elbowing my clueless mother, who swiftly chimed in with a "Love you both."

"I will. Love you, too."

The call ended. In the distance, golden streetlights wove the branches between us and the town into gigantic spider webs.

Einar twisted in his seat. "It'll take a three hours  for the plane to arrive, but we can have you in Boston for dinner."

"How far's the airport from here?"

After a short discussion with Marc, the answer seemed somewhere between forty minutes to an hour. "Can it fly any faster?"

Einar shook his head. The uneven road smoothed to the shrinking frost heaves of pavement.

"Looks like we'll be playing a few dozen card games," I sighed. Standing around twiddling my thumbs made me feel so useless. "I hate to hurry up and wait."

Macus parked curbside, leaving us with a short walk to the lot. We took our bags out of the bed, the bang of the tailgate echoing through the sleepy town, and I hesitated as Einar thanked him and headed for the lot.

Refreshed by the drop in temperature, I held a finger for Marc to wait and jogged to catch my long-legged guard. "Give us a moment?"

He frowned.

"Please?" I gave him my widest, most rascally smile. "The longer we're here, the less time I'll spend there asking if you've got any eights."

His protest stood no chance against such a convincing argument. "Keys," he grunted. Victorious, I tossed him the pair and he made for the driver's side- probably for the best, given that I'd have Becky back on the line and he actually knew the airport's location.

While Einar got situated I grabbed Marc by the arm and pulled him to the rear of the truck.

"If you are needing help...?" he offered. A one-sided shrug punctuated the question. Despite Mom's vocal opinions, his demeanor and posture had returned to the unruffled poise I was used to.

"No offense, but now's not the time. I don't want to introduce you this way." My voice sounded so loud in the hushed atmosphere that I caught myself mid-whisper. "There's a lot going on and it'd be easier for two people instead of three."

There was something in his stare as he leaned in to listen, a discerning combination of intrigue and worry that had me looking away in guilt. He knew we weren't going to sit around passing tissues. The jingle of keys into his pocket partially masked his sigh. "Cats only have so many lives."

"I know." Like a sister without a brother to blame the trouble on, I studied a muddy wheel rim before braving his eyes. "It's a good thing I'm a bear then, right?"

His expression failed to lighten. "Be careful," he warned, turning faintly as an apartment light above us flipped on then quickly off.

Instinctively I took a few sideways steps further beneath a darkened shop awning. "I'm sorry for dragging you out so late. Next time I'll drive an old jeep or something off-road worthy and just follow you to the ranch." That'd be all I could afford after handing in my crown.

"I would rather be woken up than knocked out," he said, tapping a knuckle to his head. "But either way, it is for something important so I am not minding."

"Well thank you," I affirmed, patting the overstuffed bag slung across my shoulder. "I should go. Einar's about as patient as a hungry mosquito."

He limited himself to a tight-lipped smile.

Enveloped corners protruded from an end of my horrendous packing job. Unzipping a side pouch, I pulled out the embossed charity invites and shoved them under my arm in an attempt to re-zip the bag before everything tumbled out. "Almost forgot. Party's not until the end of June, and don't worry about staying somewhere. The palace has enough spare beds for a spring break Florida frat house. Just give me a headcount."

"I am sorry for not talking to you much."

Mid-struggle, with the zipper close to winning the battle, I glanced up. "Don't be."

He held the bottom of the bag for support until I'd wrenched the peeling zipper in place. The invites he slipped into an inner coat pocket. "About Katrine."

Trying to look casual, I dropped the bag and looked him square in the eye. "She's fantastic. She'll turn heads at the ball." And then my tongue leaped ahead of my less-than-forthright brain and the thought train roared off track. "For some reason I had it in my head that you'd be waiting for me and that's just wrong. You have every right to see her and you should."

Thank God for shadows, because with the heat radiating off my cheeks, I was certain I was a roasted tomato by the time I finally bit my tongue. Marcus had rested an elbow on the tailgate to watch the show, and moved it just slightly now to rub his chin.

"So, I'm gonna go." Embarrassed, I bent for my bag.

He nudged it a foot further back. "She is not coming as my date."

My head felt dizzy, I straightened so quickly. "She's not?"

"As a friend, maybe. She admires you."

"Why? I mean, why aren't you taking her?"

"You already know." At my raised eyebrows he swallowed down a gulp of frosty air. "Niklas is a kind man who loves you, but you keep yourself at arm's length. I am curious why that is."

Recognizing the quiet challenge in his tone, I really didn't want to answer, but if next I saw him was in June at the ball, where this type of discussion was inappropriate, there might never be a better time. "Well, I got him abducted, crashed his engagement party, got him stabbed, killed his mother, and rejected his proposal." Tallying each offense on my right hand, I set my left on my hip with an annoyed frown. "Can you blame me if I'm afraid of what he sees when he looks at me?"

His hand massaged my shoulder, pressure on the cusp between feeling good and pained. "Right here is where I shot you."

Acrid whiffs of gunpowder and blood and apple champagne swirled to the forefront of my memory. I couldn't stop the shiver at the thought of Joronn's heel driven into the bullet wound, but I hoped Marc mistook it for cold. "So?"

His grip lifted into a regretful squeeze and then nothing. "When you look at me, there is no resentment in your eyes. It is the same for him. He has not reduced you to a couple of actions. He loves you for so much more than a few things you have done. I know you see that."

The nearest streetlight dimmed to the paltry flickering of a dying bulb-not quite the sort of distraction I was hoping for. "I still think it," I insisted as anticipation bubbled into my veins. The air in the northern forest was thin, but in the contemplative space between us, a heaviness settled in.

Marc rolled his shoulders back in a languid stretch, indifferent to the shift in mood. "That is not why you keep him away. Not entirely."

Moonlight silvered my cheeks, but even without the flush to warm my skin I couldn't hide the truth. "Not very subtle, am I?"

He shook his head. "You encourage Papa too much."

"If you sneezed and I handed you a tissue he'd call it love." One side of his mouth curved up and something that wasn't quite a laugh caught in his throat. I dared step a little closer, rocking on my heels indecisively. "So what are we parting as tonight?"

"Friends." He reached for his keys.

Relief, disappointment- I wasn't sure which lingered as I tucked my cold hands under my arms to warm. Should've put on that jacket before getting out. What was I thinking? I wasn't, which apparently was the theme for this hour. I took a deep breath. "That's the hypothesis, but the logical part of me says we should test that claim." When I eased against the side of the truck, close enough that his jacket sleeves warmed my arms, the keys stayed in his pocket.

"This is not an experiment for me, Allie." His thumb tucked a stray hair behind my ear before catching the crook of my chin and angling my face toward his. "I want all of you, not some."

Direct, resolute, honest. "Marc," I whispered as pressure filled my chest and drove my heart rate skyward. The words I wanted to say stalled.

"You are not sure what you want, and that is okay." He ruffled my hair and stepped aside, but the pulsing heat beneath my skin remained impervious to the night's best efforts. "Niklas and Katrine do not deserve a halfhearted relationship any more than you or I."

His hand fell to my lower back in preparation to walk me to the SUV.

But I wasn't the archetype of restraint and patience that he was. I had to know or I'd always wonder.

In a rush of nervous courage, I snatched his jacket, reeling him in by the collar until our lips met. A touch of tongue was all the invitation he needed, and in the next moment he guided me back and back and then my shoulders thumped against the tailgate. One hand supporting my spine, the other firm on my neck, he held me steady, pinned against cold metal and a hot body, until I'd stolen enough of his breath to match my racing heart. The scruff of his jaw reddened my mouth and then my neck as my hands slid underneath the leather and onto his shirt, eagerly exploring muscles I'd only seen before.

The beep of a lightly-pressed horn had us springing apart. Off balance, my boots squelched into the slush-lined street but I managed to stay upright. Headlights flicked on and off. An exasperated Einar draped himself over the steering wheel, gesturing for me to get a move on.

"Be right there!" I hummed, rubbing the raw warmth on my neck. The accompanying, unapologetic smile was impossible to fight, even if adding an experience like this complicated the future. It'd been over a year since I'd been kissed so hard and the jolt of adrenaline felt like I'd won a marathon. I'd forgotten how good it felt to be so absorbed in another person that for a second the world is only as big as you and them.

I didn't want to go another year without experiencing that again.

Bracing both hands on the side of the truck, Marcus let out one deep, shaky sigh.

From the look of it, neither did he.

"I owed you a do-over for the night I gave you a concussion," I explained, grabbing the bag and jogging to the passenger door while I still had the strength in my legs. "Keep an eye out for Amy. If you see her, give me a call. Even if you don't...Call anyway."