Chapter 2

Weston looked Corven up and down, and his lip curled.

"Nice suit." He took a step closer. "What's he costing you a day? Vera, did you really think this would make me jealous? Grow up. It's pathetic."

I looked at his face, twisted up with anger, and it didn't touch me at all.

I ignored him and turned to Corven instead.

Corven's dark silver eyes narrowed a little. He glanced down at his own black suit, honestly baffled by how stupid humans could be.

"Is he blind?" He didn't raise his voice, but it carried in the empty living room. "This suit was woven from ash off the bottom of the River Styx. And he calls me a cheap actor?"

Weston blinked, then laughed. "Where did you dig up this nut job, Vera? He's got his lines down."

"Are you done?" I finally spoke. My voice came out flat.

I let go of Corven's hand, walked over to the coffee table, and picked up the mug.

It was one of a pair. Weston and I had made them together at a pottery class, back when we still did things like that. I burned my hand that day. The scar never went away.

I opened my fingers.

The mug hit the floor and broke.

Weston's face changed. "Vera, what the hell? That was ours."

"Trash belongs in the trash." I cut him off and walked into the bedroom.

I pulled out a big black garbage bag and started filling it. My clothes from the closet. My skincare off the vanity. Our photos from the nightstand. One thing after another.

No hesitating. No looking back.

Weston followed me in and watched me work, mechanical, methodical. His face twisted into a hard frown.

"What is this, another one of your games? Are you running away from home? You think I'm going to come chasing after you?" He yanked at his tie. "Emmy just got back. She's in a fragile place. What's wrong with me spending time with her? Do you have to be so petty about it?"

"Sure. Spend time with her. I'm not being petty." I didn't even look up.

I dropped the last photo frame in the bag, picked it up, and headed for the door.

As I passed him, he grabbed my wrist.

"Vera, are you finished with this?" He was out of patience.

The second he touched me, the pain Corven had pushed down seemed to shift, like it was working its way loose again. The blood drained out of my face and my forehead went damp.

Then a cold hand closed around Weston's wrist.

Corven.

He barely squeezed, and Weston cried out and let go of me.

"Human. Don't put your filthy hands on my charge." Corven's eyes were ice.

"You son of a bitch." Weston pulled his fist back.

"Weston." My voice stopped him cold. "Move one more inch and I'll show up at Emmy's opening tomorrow and tear the place apart."

That worked. His fist stayed where it was, and he glared at me through his teeth.

"Fine, Vera. Have it your way." He pointed at me, smiling without any warmth in it. "If you walk out that door tonight, don't ever come back."

I picked up the bag and didn't look back.

Corven held the door for me, and we walked out into the dark.

I was barely down the front steps when my phone buzzed.

It was Weston. Drop the gallery keys off with Emmy tomorrow. You love putting on a show. Fine. Give the space to someone who actually needs it.