EMBER’S POV

Dr. Patel nods, no judgment in her expression.

“Do you want to take it now, or bring it with you?”

“Now. Please.”

She pours water from a pitcher on her desk and hands me the glass. I uncork the vial, and the smell hits me immediately — bitter and earthy, like something dug up from deep underground.

I think about Knox’s face this morning, soft with sleep and want. The way he whispered missed you between us. The story he told me in the dark about an ice wolf and a silver fox.

I think about the baby I lost. The one I never got to hold, never...