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“I do know one thing I’m sure about.”

My heart stutters. “What’s that?”

“No one is ever going to hurt you again.”

The promise covers me like a vow, heavy and fierce. I pull the blanket higher around my shoulders and close my eyes, letting the promise wrap around me even if his body can’t.

“Grrrrrrrrr…”

Ares’s growl tears me out of sleep, low and guttural, vibrating through the darkness like a warning. For one disoriented second, I have no idea where I am. The hospital? No. The vaulted ceiling swims above me, black against the faint gray light leaking through the velvet curtains.

Then Ares whines, sharp and desperate, and the mattress groans beneath his shifting weight. His pointed ears stand rigid.

“Ares?” My voice comes out rough with sleep.

He steps over my legs and launches from the bed. His paws hit the stone floor with a heavy thud, and he races for the door, claws scraping harder against the oak.

Across the room, fabric rustles.

“Ares. Nein.” Hunter’s voice is low and sleep-rough. The armchair creaks as he sits up. “Shut up. I literally just walked you. My shins are still freezing.”

Ares ignores him. His claws rake down the wood again.

“Hunter?” I push myself upright, dragging the duvet around my shoulders. “Something’s wrong.”

“Go back to sleep, Nettie.” He groans, rubbing his face. “I’ll take him out.”

Hunter rises from the armchair and crosses the room barefoot. He is shirtless, the dangerous lines of his tattoos barely visible in the gloom. He reaches for the brass knob and cracks the door open.

The hallway beyond is silent.

“Come on, dog,” he mutters, stepping aside, but Ares doesn’t move. His brindled head drops toward the floor. He snorts, then inhales deeply, following something along the baseboards. His nose moves in frantic, jerky passes as he tracks the invisible scent across the room.

I throw off the duvet and slide from the bed.

The freezing stone bites into my bare feet, sending adrenaline shooting up my spine. I don’t think about the rules. I don’t think about the careful distance Hunter has kept between us tonight.

I only know I need to see what Ares has found. The dog stops in the far corner beside the mahogany wardrobe. His claws dig into a narrow seam between the floorboards.

I hurry across the room and reach for Hunter’s forearm.

His skin is hot beneath my fingers. Every muscle is locked tight. He doesn’t pull away, but his pulse pounds wildly against my touch. Hunter pulls out his phone and switches on the flashlight.

The beam cuts through the darkness, illuminating the floor beneath Ares’s nose.

My breath catches.

Something dark is wedged between the boards, and Ares paws at it again, scraping loose a tiny fragment. I drop to my knees. Cold shoots through my legs as I reach for the piece. It feels soft and velvety beneath my fingertips, but the edges are already drying and curling.

I lift it into the light.

It’s a crushed dahlia petal. Dyed an unnatural, bruised black.

A violent chill rolls through me, twisting my stomach.

“What is it?” Hunter asks, watching my face.

“When I was in the bathroom earlier,” my fingers shake as I look up at him, “I found one of these in the cabinet. I didn’t remember putting it there, but you know how my memory is. I just figured I forgot.”