At first, Alara saw only blurs when she opened her eyes. As the world focused, she realized she was staring up at the ceiling in her room. The moments leading up to this realization were hazy.

How had she gotten here? What happened?

She started to sit up, reaching out with her senses for her mate. And cried out as white-hot pain flared from her leg and up through her backside.

“Easy,” a deep male voice said. Warm hands pressed her shoulders back down, urging her back against the pillows. “You’re still probably sore from the spell.”

Spell?

She looked up at the owner of the familiar voice she couldn’t quite place. She blinked. “Elijah?”

He stared down at her with a mixture of worry and something else—regret?—in his eyes. He looked away, clenching his fists. “Do you remember what happened?” he asked quietly.

She searched her brain. Gage and she had been running through the woods, tracking Elijah right after he’d Shifted and ran for it. There had been a brawl, and he’d—

Her breath caught. Flipping off the covers, she surveyed her leg. The skin was smooth; only a thin scar remained of the ghastly wound.

“Heath healed you.” Elijah gestured to her leg and shifted his weight again. He wrung his hands and wiped his palms on his pants, seemingly unable to keep still. He at last shoved his hands inside his pants pockets.

Alara studied him. He seemed nervous. And guilty as hell.

She recognized that kind of shame. It was exactly the same shame she’d harbored following those long, dark weeks after her family’s murders. And in that moment, upon recognizing him as a kindred spirit, she instantly forgave him.

He took a deep breath, still not looking at her. “Alara, I’m so—”

“You don’t have to say anything.” She reached for his wrist and pulled his hand out of his pocket, squeezing it. “I’m all right. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

“You’re not fine. It’s not fine,” he said sternly. “I could have killed you.”

“But you didn’t,” she insisted, smiling up at him. “And I know you would never intentionally hurt me.”

“How? You don’t know me.”

She studied him. “It’s…more a sense I get about your character. When I’m around you, when I look into your eyes. I saw how fiercely you fought when you first arrived. Even though the room was swarming with DPI, you came in anyway and helped. That requires selflessness. And though you might have been fierce and frightening to behold that day, I’ve sensed no malice in you since. Though I have detected a great deal of suffering and self-loathing. Uncertainty. Doubt. Fear. Like your spirit’s nearly broken.”

He looked down at their joined hands, stared at them. At last he took a step back, letting go. He stood several feet away, as if not trusting that he wouldn’t Shift right there and try to kill her.

Alara rested her hands on her lap, studying them. “You can’t go on forever blaming yourself. That kind of guilt will destroy you,” she said softly. She took a deep breath. “When my…when my family died, I thought it was my fault. I wasn’t there to save them. I was the reason this happened to them. The reason they died the way they did. I held on to my guilt, punishing myself, for a long time. Eventually, that guilt gave way to anger. My anger turned into rage, and…” She shook her head, blocking out the horrid memories of what she’d done to those poor men in that chicken factory. “The point is that I nearly let my guilt and rage consume me. Those feelings hurt me more than anything else I’d ever done. They almost ruined not only my life, but the lives of the people around me. Elijah, you have to forgive yourself. If you don’t, if you hold on to that self-loathing and hatred, it will kill you from the inside out. Trust me, you don’t want to look in the mirror one day and not recognize who you’ve become. It’s scary.”

He was silent for a moment.

“It won’t be easy.” Alara smiled softly. “I’m still working through my inner demons. Some days are good, and some are bad. I just take things one day, one breath, one moment, at a time, and hope for the best. Just keep moving forward. That’s all you can do.”

He looked at her for a long while and then tentatively smiled back.

A soft knock came at the door. One of the guards went to open the door when Nik burst through, followed by Gage, Danica, and Verika. Nik’s haunted eyes roved over Alara, as if he were trying to assure himself she was still alive.

Elijah immediately stiffened as Nik’s gaze landed on him and sharpened.

The room held its breath, waiting and prepping for a fight.

At last Nik turned away. “Just get out,” he said halfheartedly.

Alara exhaled. She pressed her lips together but remained silent. They should count their blessings, really. It was a miracle Nik hadn’t moved to immediately take Elijah’s head off.

Elijah started to walk toward the door, when he paused and looked back over his shoulder at Alara. “Thank you.”

She smiled and nodded.

Nik’s hands clenched into fists, and his face got redder by the second.

Elijah must have sensed Nik’s rising fury, too, because he swiftly walked out the door without a backward glance.