The second Richard stepped into the hallway, all the fear left my body.
Which was ridiculous, honestly. Jason still had a knife. I was still wolfless. There were still at least six different ways this could all go horribly wrong. But that’s what it felt like—fear evaporating, replaced by something steadier, heavier.
Relief.
Richard had been distant lately. Busy, I told myself. Caught up in work, in strategy meetings, in kingdom-wide crisis control. And then I saw him with her—the woman from the restaurant. The one who fit so neatly at his side, like she’d been stitched into his world.
I’d told myself it didn’t mean anything. That I didn’t care. But the truth was, it left a sour twist in my chest that hadn’t quite gone away.
But now, standing there with the blade at my throat, that twi
