KNOX’S POV

Nathaniel takes the corners so fast the tyres scream against the ice, and I don’t tell him to slow down because I can feel her.

Without pictures or words, I feel her through the unnamed connection living between us. It’s a proto-bond, an immature thread that usually hums when she’s close and goes quiet when she’s safe.

Right now, it is doing neither.

Right now, it’s a siren inside my chest, a frequency of wrongness that gets louder with every mile, and my hands are shaking against my thighs.

“Faster,” I say.

The engine screams as we violently weave through traffic, pulling manoeuvres that would earn us a...