ford

Hammer’s here.

At Lost Moon.

I can’t imagine a single scenario in which that’s good news for me or Juliet. Which means grief and explanations will have to wait until we get the f**k off this island. If we stay here, we’re sitting ducks.

I back out of Juliet’s arms and nod toward the shore. We’ll have to swim for it. Are you strong enough?

She stands, rising to her feet with an easy flex of her strong thighs. “I am. But I think it might be better if I fly. I’m pretty sure I’m faster in the air than I am in the water.”

The memory of her flaming feathers in the moments before she went full burn makes my stomach flip, but I push the anxiety away. She’s proven that she can rise from the ashes, and she’s already lost all the memories that made her the Juliet I once knew.

At this point, just five minutes into her new life, she doesn’t have much to lose.

Good, I say, trotting toward the water. Fly at least ten or twenty miles, pick a town where you feel safe, and stay out of sight. I’ll follow and hopefully reach you by sundown tonight. But if I’m not there by tomorrow morning, keep moving and make contact with Layla, a freshman bear shifter at Lost Moon University. Tell her you’re Juliet Zion and that you need her help remembering who you are. She’s a friend and will be able to fill you in.

It’s not a perfect plan—Layla could be dead for all I know—but it’s the best I can come up with on the spur of the moment. At least I know she can trust Layla. I can’t say the same about her mother or even Natalie. And Alexander and Catherine are two of the many people who didn’t step in to help when shit hit the fan. Layla was the only one there with us every step of the way.

“No, I’ll wait for you on the mainland,” Juliet says, jogging beside me. “And we’ll replace a town together.”

We shouldn’t risk it, I say, my skin crawling as the scent of my stepfather gets stronger. He can’t be more than a mile away, probably less. Hammer, your father, wants both of us dead. It’s too complicated to explain right now, but you can’t trust him, or anyone associated with him. Don’t tell anyone you’re a Zion and don’t talk to anyone but Layla.

“And if I can’t replace her?” she asks, squinting in the direction of Lost Moon. I follow her gaze, but the morning fog is still too thick to see far across the water, let alone all the way to the campus.

But I’m pretty sure that’s where the Hammer stink is coming from, carried by a soft sea breeze. Just glancing that way is enough to make the fur at the nape of my neck stand on end.

There’s a woman near Vancouver, Agatha Muckbunner. She wants to support your bid for the throne, I say, hoping that’s still true. Try her if you can’t reach Layla.

Juliet arches a dubious brow. “I’m a princess?”

You’re going to be the Alpha of the Zion pack, one of the wealthiest, most powerful packs on the West Coast, I say. It’s your birthright and your people need you. Don’t stop until you claim what’s yours. Now go. Please. I’ll be right behind you.

She squats down in front of me, cradling my ribs in her small hands. “No. Let me carry you. I think I can. I don’t remember exactly how big my bird is, but—”

No, I shout, scrambling backward. Her eyes widen and I hurry to explain, That’s how you died last time.

“I didn’t die,” she says, empathy in her eyes. “I just…reset. I promise, I’m still the same person I was before.”

I want to tell her who she was, I want to explain everything she’s been through—everything we’ve been through together—but there isn’t time. And I’m not sure it would be the right thing to do, even if there were.

Because she’s not the same person she was, I can see that already.

This Juliet has kind, clear eyes, and an open heart. This Juliet doesn’t know what it’s like to be betrayed by her family or locked in a cage or torn apart by monsters. She doesn’t know what it feels like to cling to me in the dark after a nightmare brings all the agony she’s suffered flooding back with enough force to short-circuit her nervous system.

And only a selfish son of a bitch would wish that kind of suffering on another human being, just so he would have someone who understands how that feels.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” she says, rising and backing away, a sweet, steady affection in her expression that my Juliet only let show every once in a great while. “I’ll leave a clue in a public place to help you replace me. Maybe a community message board or something.”

I won’t need it, I assure her. I’ll know exactly where you are.

Her lips quirk as she seems to consider that. Then, she nods. “That feels right. I think I’ll be able to replace you, too. Stay safe.” She starts to go, but pauses, turning back with a small shake of her head. “I’m sorry. I forgot to ask your name.”

Ford, I tell her, refusing to dwell on the fact that the woman I love doesn’t even remember my name.

There will be time to mourn and bargain and beg the universe for the strength to handle this f****d up kind of loss later, after we’re safe.

“Goodbye, Ford,” she says, lifting her arms above her head. “I’ll see you soon.”

Her arms drop, blurring red and gold as her skin transforms to feathers and she launches into the air with an ease the old Juliet never mastered. I watch her soar away toward the opposite shore with the confidence of a shifter who has no idea what it’s like to be kept from her animal form and I’m torn apart all over again.

I’m torn between the man who loves her and wants to spare her pain and the man who loves her because of all the pain she faced and overcame. I want Juliet to have a fresh start with no nightmares in it, and I want Juliet to be the woman I knew, and I don’t think there’s any way for those two things to coexist in the same body.

No matter how things shake out—whether she eventually remembers who she was or if she’s truly a blank slate—something precious will be lost.

It would be enough to bring even my steady wolf to his knees if I let it.

Instead, I run into the water and swim like hell.