Chapter 99

Evelyn

I had never been to so many hospitals in one day.

From the many battles I had lent a hand in, I was used to the presence of patients, but they had always been in the same medical wing or a single, pitched medical tent. But today, I breezed through many I had never set foot in, meeting other healers for the first time.

The familiar scent of a too-clean space mixed with the vague, distant scent of blood pressed into my senses as I walked the corridors of my last hospital for the day. The remaining vials of the wolfsbane cure clinked softly inside the crate I carried.

Throughout the day, my nervousness had worn away so that I was more tired than anything. I was steady in my resolve, but traveling so far and wide to urgently spread the word and deliver the cure had taken its toll.

And then there were the meetings with the wolfsbane patients that had torn the rest of my energy from me. It was one thing to develop a cure in theory, in the quiet safety of a lab. It was another to look into the eyes of people who’d been poisoned, weakened, and left believing that there was no salvation. That they should simply wait to die. It was emotionally taxing to look at each desperate face and know you could give them back their lives.

The first patient I had handed a vial to earlier in the day had a young she-wolf with sallow skin and a shivering frame. She’d looked at me like I’d just handed her the moon itself as she held the cure in her palms.

She had been waning from the effects of excessive drugging for months, and her figure was skeletal. Her thin, dry lips trembled when she said, “Thank you.” Before I could even think of an appropriate response, she had wrapped her arms around me. I had been so stunned that I could only blink.

This is why I had done it. For that moment.

Each thank-you hit deeper than I expected. Mothers clutched their children tighter, knowing that now, there was more time with them. Warriors who’d been bedridden for months after Jesse had ordered them to be drugged heavily in interrogations swore they’d be grateful for me until they were buried in the ground. One man even proposed to me in his elation. The nurses and doctors squeezed my hands, their eyes glassy with relief.

By the time I left the last hospital, my own eyes burned. I’d done it. All of those people thanking me were getting their lives back. I had saved them not just for the memory of Logan’s mother and my own experience with the drug, but for every wolf who wouldn’t have to suffer the way she had.

I was so caught up in that fragile swell of pride that I didn’t sense him until it was too late.

Logan was leaning against one of the columns outside the palace entrance, his hands in his pockets. He looked distraught, his eyes ringed with dark shadows like he’d barely slept. His gaze was fixed on me like I was the only person in the world. His focus was intense, unreadable, and dangerous in ways I knew too well.

I wanted to back away from him, but my feet refused me. It was like I was fused to the floor, staring back at him.

“I don’t have the energy for this,” I admitted.

“We have to talk eventually.” His voice was low, urgent. Desperate, even.

I wanted to tell him that he could choke on his own arrogance. But something in me wanted to hear what excuse he’d come up with this time. That he was just drunk, or blinded by anger, or too frustrated to think clearly.

But he was right. We would need to go over it all eventually.

I lowered the crate of vials and crossed my arms. “You have two minutes. Make them count.”

He stepped closer, close enough that I could see the bloodshot edges of his tired eyes. “What happened with Emma—”

“Don’t,” I snapped. My voice cracked before I could stop it. “Say exactly what you did, Logan. Say that you kissed her. Don’t beat around the bush and try to brush it off. You think there’s anything you can say that will make that vanish?”

“I didn’t kiss her.” His jaw was tight. “She came at me when I was drunk. And yes, she kissed me. I tried to push her away. You think I wanted that? That I’d ever want her?”

I laughed, sharp and humorless. “I think you’ve been circling her long enough for it to happen. And I think I’m done pretending that you and I…” My throat tightened. “That we have a future.”

His face darkened. “Evelyn. Don’t say that. You don’t mean—”

“No. You can be with Emma. Be a rogue for all I care. Tear down everything you’ve built. I’ve been playing second-favorite to her from the start, and it’s truer now than ever. So go be with her… I want the divorce finalized.”

Something flickered in his expression. He wasn’t able to suppress the shock of hurt that twisted his features. “Fine,” he gritted out. “But only if you’re sure that’s what you really want.”

He waited for my answer, but I found that I couldn’t put words to it. I couldn’t say it aloud. So I only raised my chin in a sorry attempt at a nod.

“Where are the papers?” he asked.

And just like that, my attempts at defiance vanished. I looked away, my cheeks heating. “I… threw them away. When we were…”

“Falling in love,” he finished for me. When I raised my eyes to meet his, his expression was meaningful and soft. He looked so delicate, like I could shatter him with just one more negative word.

The silence between us thickened until I could hear my own pulse in my ears. Then, slowly, he closed the space between us, his voice dropping into the tone that had undone me before. Like a cat’s purr, low and soft.

“We can still be in love,” he murmured, his hand brushing against mine. “I can still be yours. We don’t have to fight this, Evelyn.”

For one reckless heartbeat, I almost let myself believe him. His warmth, his scent, the way his voice curved around my name all pulled at me like a tide. It would have been so easy to just lean in. I could close the gap between us with the smallest tilt of my frame. I could catch his lips with my own with the same effort it took to breathe. I could stop resisting and give in within a heartbeat.

But then I saw her.

Not here, not physically, but in my head, Emma’s smug, laughing face burned in my memory. She would have been so pleased to see my distress, to watch how easily I bent back toward him.

I put my hand on his chest and took a step back, creating enough distance that I could breathe again. “We can’t. I won’t. Not while she’s out there. Not after what she’s done.”

His expression shuttered as if I’d slammed a door in his face. Perhaps, in a way, I had.

I turned before he could see the tears brimming in my eyes and blurring my vision. It took all of the energy and strength I had left to keep my voice from breaking.

“Goodbye, Logan,” I whispered.

With some effort, I didn’t look back.