EMBER’S POV

He’s standing in the snow about twenty feet away, his face a mask of barely controlled fury.

The cold bites at my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the ice spreading through my veins as Knox’s eyes take in the scene — me emerging from the house with Rafael, my tear-stained face, the handkerchief still clutched in my trembling fingers, the way Rafael’s hand hovers near my back.

For a moment, no one moves. The world narrows to just the three of us, suspended in the pale winter light, and I can almost hear the thread between Knox and me stretching taut, ready to snap.

“Ember.” Knox’s voice...