Chapter 4

The boys spotted her a moment later.

Justin stopped mid-step. For one brief second, his face lit up—a flash of the little boy who used to run into her arms every afternoon when Cynthia picked him up from school.

But then his jaw set. He looked away. And the warmth vanished as quickly as it had come.

Harry, too, hesitated. He clutched his wolf tighter. His lower lip trembled. Then he turned and pressed himself against Aurelia's leg instead.

Aurelia's smile was soft, almost apologetic. The kind of smile that had always made Cynthia's skin crawl.

"Oh, Cynthia," Aurelia said, tilting her head. "You look tired. Are you sleeping all right at that hotel?"

"I'm sleeping fine."

"That's good." Aurelia smoothed a hand over Harry's hair. "Harry had a rough night. The storm, you know. But I stayed with him until he fell asleep. He finally settled around dawn."

Cynthia's eyes flicked to her son. "Is that true, Harry?"

Harry didn't meet her gaze. He nodded into Aurelia's thigh.

Justin crossed his arms. "Auntie Aurelia came when we needed her. You didn't."

Cynthia felt the words land—sharp, precise, meant to wound. But she had been bleeding for three days. What was one more cut?

She knelt down slowly, bringing herself to eye level with her sons.

"You're right," she said quietly. "I didn't come. And you both made it very clear in that police station that you didn't want me to. So I respected your choice."

Justin's mouth opened, then closed. He hadn't expected her to agree.

Cynthia stood back up and turned to Aurelia. "You wanted them, didn't you? You've always wanted my life. My title. My mate. My children."

She smiled—thin and cold. "Congratulations. You've inherited a ready-made family. I hope you enjoy it."

Aurelia's mask slipped for just a moment. Then she blinked rapidly, her eyes glistening. "Cynthia, please—I'm not trying to take anything from you. I just want to help. The boys need someone stable right now."

"Then be stable. Goddess knows I'm done."

Cynthia turned to her sons one last time. "Your father and I are getting a divorce. I'm sorry it has to be this way. But you've made your feelings very clear, and I'm not going to force myself where I'm not wanted."

Justin's face crumpled. "You're—you're leaving?"

"You said you'd never call me Mom again if I didn't protect Aurelia. I didn't protect her. So here we are."

Harry's eyes went wide and wet. "But—but we didn't mean—"

"Yes, you did," Cynthia said gently. "And that's okay. You're children. You're allowed to be angry. But I'm allowed to walk away, too."

Aurelia immediately dropped to her knees beside the boys, pulling them into her arms. "I will never leave you," she whispered loudly enough for Cynthia to hear. "Never. You are everything to me."

How touching, Cynthia thought. She's been practicing that line.

She was still standing there, watching the scene unfold with a strange sense of detachment, when the door opened again.

Kane walked in.

He took one look at the tableau—Aurelia on her knees, arms wrapped around both weeping boys, Cynthia standing apart with her arms crossed and her face like stone—and his expression darkened instantly.

"What did you do?" His voice was ice.

Cynthia laughed. It came out bitter and sharp. "What did I do? I stood here. That's all. I didn't touch anyone. I didn't raise my voice. I simply existed, Kane, and apparently that's enough to make everyone fall apart."

"Don't play innocent with me—"

"I'm not playing anything." She reached into her bag and pulled out a thick envelope. The divorce papers. Signed. Sealed. Ready.

She slapped them onto his desk. "I came here to give you these."

Kane's jaw tightened. "Your sons are crying, and all you care about is the divorce. You have no heart—"

"Save it." Cynthia stepped back from the desk. "I didn't come here to fight with you. I didn't come here to win. I came here to sign the papers and walk away. You've wanted this for five years, Kane. Don't stand there pretending you don't."

She gestured toward the envelope. "My signature is on every page. All you have to do is add yours. Then we're done."

She picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and walked toward the door.

Kane caught her arm just before she reached it. "You think it's that simple? You think you can just walk out and never look back?"

Cynthia looked down at his hand on her arm. Then she lifted her gaze to his face.

"Watch me," she said.

She pulled free and walked out the door without looking back.

Behind her, she heard Harry's voice—small, uncertain.

"Mom?"

She didn't stop. She kept walking.

Cynthia stepped out of the Aurora Group building. She walked to the edge of the sidewalk, pulled out her phone, and was about to call a car when it rang in her hand.

An international number. One she hadn't seen in years.

She answered on the second ring.

"Cynthia Radcliffe. Tell me you finally grew a spine and walked out on that bastard."

Cynthia let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "Hello to you too, Maude."

Maude's voice crackled through the line—half a world away, but as warm and sharp as ever. "Don't 'hello' me. I've been watching the news. The hit-and-run. The police station. Your sister batting her eyelashes while your husband plays knight in shining armor. And then I hear you filed for divorce?" A pause. "Please tell me it's true. Please tell me you're finally done being a doormat for people who don't deserve to tie your shoes."

"It's true," Cynthia said quietly. "I'm done."

The word felt strange on her tongue. Done. Like closing a book she had been reading for five years, only to realize she had hated every page.

Maude whooped so loud Cynthia had to pull the phone away from her ear. "It's about time! Moon above, Cynthia, I thought I was going to have to fly over there and drag you out myself. Do you know how long I've been waiting for this? How many nights I've lain awake fuming over—"

"I can guess," Cynthia interrupted, a small smile tugging at her lips despite everything. "You've only told me. About a thousand times."

"A thousand and one now. So what's the plan? Don't tell me you're just going to fade into obscurity somewhere. You're not that stupid."

Cynthia hesitated. Then she said the words she hadn't dared speak aloud until now.

"I'm coming back. To New York. To dance."

"Say it again," Maude couldn't help the excitement in her voice.

"I'm really coming back," Cynthia repeated, more deceiving. "I'll be in New York by the end of the week. Can you help me find a place to stay? Something small. Something quiet."

"Consider it done. And Cynthia?" Maude's voice softened. "You're not alone in this. You haven't been alone. All of us are waiting for you to come back."

"If it weren't for that godforsaken marriage, you would have been a star by now. You always had a hundred times more talent than Aurelia ever dreamed of." Maude paused. "And it's not too late. Not even close."

Cynthia smiled. A real one this time. "Thank you, Maude. For everything."

They said their goodbyes, and Cynthia hung up.

Whatever peace she had found didn't survive the morning.

Later that day, her phone buzzed once more.

She glanced at the screen. Her smile faded.