One month later

April 20th, 8 a.m.

For a few seconds, Mir forgot where she was. Only the Nirvana poster hanging on the yellow wall beside the tiny single bed reminded her that she’d somehow found her way into her childhood bedroom in Nottingham.

A room she’d once thought she’d never see again.

She stretched her arms over her head, relaxing for a moment before she dragged herself out of bed.

Today is the day, she thought as she pulled her robe on over her cotton pajamas. Today’s the day when I tell them everything.

Bry would be on her way up from London by now. Cad and Phair had promised to bring her a day late, to give Mir time to talk to their parents. But somehow there hadn’t been an opportune time last night to explain what she and her sister had been through. It had been more like a torrent of her mother’s gossip and her father’s tales of his achievements in home repair.

Of course, her parents had also told her about the curious incident involving shifters and magic:

These men—Dragon shifters, they were—came and told us we had to leave until they could secure the place. It was the strangest thing. They only told us we were in danger, but not why, or from whom. Your mother rode a Dragon! Well, it was all very exciting, though we’re not quite sure why any of it actually occurred.

She’d only gotten about five words in before her parents had announced that they were going to bed.

Which meant that she had no choice but to tell them this morning. They needed to know. She needed to find the courage, difficult though it would be, to explain that her life had altered forever, and so had Bry’s.

She slipped down to the kitchen, a feeling of dread growing in her stomach. What could she possibly say that would explain everything? How could she hide the shame of what had happened, without horrifying her parents into heart attacks or even worse, endless despair?

As the smell of coffee met her nose, a fresh dose of renewed strength hit her. Suddenly she remembered the feeling of Cad’s and Phair’s arms around her. Of their voices in her mind.

We’re with you, every step of the way.

She stepped into the kitchen, where her mother—a rosy-cheeked woman of sixty—and her father—a short man with a grey Santa beard—were sitting, enjoying the day’s newspaper together.

“How did you sleep, love?” asked her mother, her voice heartbreakingly chipper.

“Very well, thanks,” said Mir. “Too well, I think. I’d almost forgotten…”

“Forgotten what?”

“Forgotten that there’s something I should tell you both. It’s about…it’s about the shifters. It’s about where Bry and I have been all these months.”

She plonked herself down on a chair and looked first at her mother, then her father. “The shifters are the reason I’m home,” she said. “If it weren’t for them, I may never have seen you two again.”

“Well, that sounds very ominous, dear,” said her mother.

“It is. I…” She wanted so badly to finish, to sum it all up in one tidy sentence, but already her voice was failing her. “I…it’s just that…”

A flood of memories came to her then, of being shoved into a white van, of being taken into locked rooms in the club. Of Barton’s cruelty, Bry’s servitude.

Of being trapped with no escape, and of the men who had walked into her life and pulled her and Bry free.

She stared at her parents for a moment until a strange look came across each of their faces. Mir couldn’t quite decipher it, couldn’t figure out what it all meant. All she knew was that they seemed to understand, for some reason.

Without a word of explanation, they seemed to know everything.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

“I need to get that,” her mother said, rushing towards the front door.

Seconds later, Mir heard deep voices coming from the foyer. Her heart leapt. Oh, God. They were early. Her mother would see Bry’s face before she’d properly explained what had happened.

She rose to her feet silently and walked towards the front of the house. Her mother’s arms were already wrapped around her sister, and both of them were sobbing.

Her mates, standing protectively behind the two women, were staring at her with so much love in their eyes that Mir thought her heart would explode.

Her father wandered into the room, his eyes locking on her mother and sister.

“I’m so sorry,” Mir said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Mum, Dad…I’m so sorry for everything.”

Her father was beside her now, and she turned to look at him. But his eyes were still fixed on her sister. She knew that he could see her scars, her burns.

And somehow, Mir could tell that he understood everything.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, his voice tense and quiet. “This wasn’t your doing.”

He made his way towards his wife and his youngest daughter. Bry let go of her mother and hugged him hard.

After a few seconds, Mr. Williams pulled away from her and turned to Phair and Cad. “I want to thank you two and your friends,” he said, “for saving my daughters.”

“So you really do know?” Mir asked, her voice breaking. “You know what happened?”

“I know enough,” he said, turning her way. “I know enough.”

Mir looked at Bry, who was hiding her face behind her hair as always. But her mother reached up and pushed it away, cupping her cheek in her hand.

“Wear your scars with pride,” she said softly, pressing her forehead to her daughter’s. “For you to have survived this, well, you’re the strongest woman I know.”

“Thank you, Mum,” said Bry.

Mir managed a smile as her mates drew up next to her and put their arms around her. “You told them?” asked Phair.

“I think…I think I told them,” said Mir. “Though I didn’t say anything. I’m not sure how they know.” The sense of relief made her feel light, as though she was floating. “All this time I’ve been terrified,” she said, “of being blamed for everything, for letting them down, for Bry’s injury. But I know now that they would never put that burden on me.”

“You shouldn’t burden yourself, either,” Cad said softly, kissing the top of her head. “If you understood how good you are, Mir—if you understood how much we love you…”

She looked into his eyes. They were shining bright blue. His Wolf was close.

He was telling the truth.

Yes, of course he was.

“I know,” she said, turning to Phair, whose golden eyes told her that his déor, too, was close. “I know.”

With that, she took their hands and pulled them towards the kitchen.

“Come on,” she said. “I want to introduce you to the girl I used to be. Because she’s turned into the woman who loves you both so, so much.”

* * *