Chapter 30

Stella wished more of the jet’s blinds were currently lowered, so she would have more safe places to look in consternation. “Yeah. We do have vehicles, and sometimes we drive for days to get on location. None of us have self-driving cars, though.”

“And what do you do on ‘location’ once you get there?”

Stella rolled her eyes up to the safety of the ceiling. She couldn’t very well ignore his questions when he was doing her pack a favor. And not just them—her, too, the weight of the compass in her pocket reminded her. But at the same time, it was pack business. “We do whatever Maddox tells us to,” she said, trying to stay circumspect.

“Which is?”

“None of your concern.”

Zach settled back in his chair and crossed his arms with a thoughtful sound. “Huh. I guess we’re going to turn the plane around, then.”

She eyed him warily. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Did you want to try me?” he asked her. The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement.

“I should’ve shot you this morning when I had the chance,” she grumbled. But if Maddox had known everything this morning, then— maybe he knew about all of this, too. “Fine. Maddox hires us out to other packs to kill Hunters.”

Zach’s eyebrows rose immediately. “Packs that can’t protect their own?”

“Yep. So you can imagine what a surprise it was for us to not be able to take care of the Hunters that blasted through last winter.” Maddox had gathered everyone into the main building and announced that they were going to leave, en mass, leaving just a handful of warwolves behind to protect their back, Stella and her brother included.

It hadn’t been enough.

“They were different—that was an international brigade.”

“Yeah. Dragon-hunting.” In a roundabout way, if she stretched the truth hard enough, it was Damian’s fault that Remi had died. Would there have been so many Hunters in town if no one had known there was a dragon locally? She stared for a moment at the pits of the olives she’d placed on her plate. If she’d eaten one more olive, she could’ve arranged the pits in Remi’s star sign.

Zach leaned forward to pull a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I asked the others about that symbol by the way,” he said, unfolding it.

Because of course, he had. His crew told each other everything, which was why she should tell him as little as possible, from here on out. She frowned at him, as he set the paper down and pushed it over.

There was a drawing of a fallen man over the constellation’s dots.

Remi.

Stella gasped. “That’s not funny.”

“I—I didn’t mean it to be.” Zach looked from her to the paper, not understanding why she was upset. “Damian and Ryana confirmed that this constellation is from the Realms, Stella. Back in their sky, back home.”

She made a face and started shaking her head. “No. That’s not possible.” Her pack didn’t believe in the Realms, or in the monsters that came through the rifts when those worlds brushed up against Earth—and she didn’t want to either.

It wasn’t until she’d seen Zach’s crew close a rift a few months ago that she’d been forced to believe—although she wouldn’t have minded going back in time and forgetting what she’d seen snaking through the hole in the sky they’d closed that night. Any time she thought about it, it made her brain feel greasy.

But… Damian did seem to be from the Realms, as he claimed, as did his half-sister.

It wasn’t that she would ignore the evidence when it was right in front of her—it was just that her world was already complicated enough without knowing there were others.

“And even if it is,” she went on, “There’s a lot of stars in the sky, okay? I’m sure we could find this same shape somewhere in our sky if we looked hard enough, tonight.”

“Sure,” he agreed. His eyes searched her face gently, all teasing forgotten. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He was so careful around her, and she didn’t like that, him feeling like she was something he might break.

“You didn’t,” she lied. His kindness felt inherently untrustworthy, and she felt the need to make it stop. “Why’re you even doing this, Zach? Why on earth would a Wind Racer help Starry Sky?”

“You sound like my brother,” he said with a rueful snort and then stared at her. “But we both know the answer to that, Stella. I’m not helping them. I’m helping you.”

Stella shook her head. She’d ghosted him for months. Why hadn’t he kicked dirt over the embers? “After all this time?” she asked, incredulous.

“She waits, until they’re in the sky, to ask,” he said with sarcasm, and then softly sighed. “I don’t know, Stella. Maybe I just want to. I know I can’t give you what you deserve—”

“You don’t know that—” she interrupted.

He waved a hand between them. “I know we’re not mates—”

“No,” she said sharply. “I mean you don’t know what I deserve. You think you do, but you don’t.”

He blinked. “Then tell me.”

She was struck by a sudden urge to confess the truth: she deserved nothing. She’d abandoned her brother, then abandoned her pack. Her mouth opened of its own accord, but no words came out, just the same tortured feelings, seeing the Hunters overtake Remi, him screaming for her to run and her running, instead of staying behind to fight. It was as if we were being killed, all over again.

Sometimes, when things were dark and quiet, she wished it had been.

Zach watched her with concern, and his hand reached across the table to engulf hers. The contact of skin on skin startled her, and she should’ve pulled away—but it was like he’d thrown her a life preserver, catching her before her despair carried her out to sea.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“No,” she breathed.

“Then let me help you, Stella,” he said, his hand still warm on hers.

She wanted to tell him you can’t, because it was true. Seventy-two hours together wouldn’t even begin to scratch the surface of all the things wrong with her, even if Zach was secretly Oprah.

But she hadn’t pulled her hand back yet… nor did she want to.

What she wanted to do was take his hand and pull him out into the dark.

So it wouldn’t feel so lonely there.

Was it a good idea? Was it fair? Was it kind? No, no, and no. But she slowly rotated her hand under his nonethelesshelessingers up the inside of his wrist while she watched his eyes widen and his lips part. He swallowed, and so did she.

“I would just be using you,” she told him him becausetruthall all of his attention was upon her, like a starving wolf spotting a rabbit on a midwinter night. “I promise not to mind.”