Chapter 20 · The Moon Wants Her

Darius won't look at me.

He's been standing at the window for the past twenty minutes, hands locked behind his back like he's trying to stop himself from tearing something apart. The safe house is quiet. Too quiet. Kyle left an hour ago to check the perimeter, and now it's just me and Darius and the sound of his breathing going rough every few seconds.

I'm sitting on the couch with my knees pulled up, still wearing the clothes from the fight. There's dried blood on my jeans. Not mine. The wolf's.

I killed him.

I keep waiting for the guilt to hit, but all I feel is this cold, sharp certainty. He was dying anyway. He wanted me to do it. And whatever power came out of me—whatever my mother's bloodline is—it felt right. Like I was supposed to do it.

That's the part that scares me.

"Darius."

He doesn't answer.

I try again. "You can't just stand there all night."

"Yes, I can." His voice is flat. Controlled. The kind of control that means he's about two seconds from losing it.

I get up and walk over to him.