Chapter 601

*See.* Ivy said,

*Don’t, I said.

*He’s not going to let it go,* she said.

*I know,* I said.

*And he’s right, she said. “Can’t and won’t are different.*

*I know they’re different,* I said.

*So why did you say can’t.” she said.

*Because it’s what I meant,* I said.

*Then tell him.* she said.

*No.* I said.

*Ivory, she said.

*No,* I said.

*You’re going to die,* she said, bluntly, with the wolf’s complete absence of management around true things, and he’s going to be here without knowing why any of it happened. You’re going to leave him here not knowing.*

*He doesn’t need to know,* I said.

*He’s fated to you,” she said. *He has a right to know.*

*Rights and needs are different things,” I said. “I know about fated mates and rights and needs and I’ve been living with the specific distinction for a long time. Knowing doesn’t help him. It just gives him something to grieve in advance.*

*Or,* Ivy said, *it gives him time.*

*Time for what,* I said.

*To stop you,* she said.

*Nobody can stop this,* I said.

*You don’t know that,” she said.

db

*I’ve been researching the curse for four years,* I said. *I know the architecture. I know the failsafe. I know

Mon, Sep

Chapter 601

every possible pathway through it and I’ve mapped them all and the map leads to one place

Did you show the map to anyone else.* Ivy said.

I didn’t answer.

*Did you,* Ivy said.

*The map leads to one place,* I said again.

SP

*You’re the only person who’s seen the map, Ivy said. *Which means the map’s accuracy relies entirely on your analysis. Which means-*

*I’m very good at analysis,* I said.

*You’re also,* Ivy said, *in love with the Alpha. Which means you have the specific bias of someone who would accept a worse outcome for themselves if it meant a better outcome for him.*

*That’s not-*

*It’s accurate.* Ivy said. *You know it’s accurate. That’s why you won’t let anyone see the map.*

I sat with this.

The compound notes were in front of me. Forty pages of documentation that I’d been writing for weeks with the specific urgency of someone working against a deadline. The countdown that I’d built into my own schedule, the one that was proceeding on the timeline I’d calculated.

*Ivy.* I said.

*Yes,* she said.

*Be quiet,* I said.

*No, she said.

“Ivory,” Killian said.

I’d been silent too long. He was watching me with the expression of someone who’d learned to wait out my silences because my silences sometimes produced things that the interruption would have prevented.

“There are things,” I said, carefully, “about the root removal that I haven’t shared with everyone.”

He was very still.

“Things I’ve been working through alone,” I said. “In the lab. In the documentation.”

“What things,” he said.

“Technical things,” I said.

“Technical things,” he repeated, in the tone of someone noting that the description was insufficient.

“Yes,” I said.

16:42 Mon, Sep 14

Chapter 501

“Ivory,” he said. “What is the actual cost of removing the root.”

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

The lab was very quiet. The link was present at the edge of my awareness – Ben had apparently been given a cookie by someone (not his mother, through the link the identity was disputed) and was now broadcasting contentment at a frequency that was very warm and very much background noise.

“The root removal,” I said, “requires a specific mechanism. Aria uses the lunar power to sever the root from Kael’s bond architecture. The moon child’s power to break it has to be matched by a specific cost to make the breaking permanent.”

“What cost,” he said.

“The curse was tied.” I said, “to the bond’s original anchor. The person who was the emotional center of the cursed Alpha’s world when the curse was first cast.”

He was very still.

“The original caster knew about me and Kael,” I said. “She used it. She built the failsafe around it.” I kept my voice in the clinical register because the clinical register was the one that stayed level when other registers didn’t. “Complete removal of the root activates the failsafe. The failsafe requires the original anchor’s-” I stopped.

“Life,” Killian said.

Not a question.

“Yes,” I said.

The lab was very quiet.

*He knows,* Ivy said.

*Yes,* I said.

*And you told him,* Ivy said.

*Yes,* I said.

*Why,” she said.

I didn’t have an answer for that. I’d been not–telling people for three weeks and I’d told Killian in

approximately four minutes and I didn’t have a complete account of why that was.

*Because you wanted someone to know,* Ivy said. *Before.*

*Don’t, I said.

*Because telling someone makes it real and real means it’s actually going to happen and you needed it to be actually going to happen,* Ivy said. “So you could stop carrying it alone.

16:42 Mon, Sep 14

Chapter 601

I put the pen down.

Kinian was looking at me with the expression I’d been cataloguing since his arrival – the one that was different from the performing version. The actual one. It had several layers that I’d been learning to real and the top layer right now was the specific expression of someone who’d received information they d suspected and had hoped not to have confirtucd.

“You’ve known this for how long,” he said.

“Four years,” I said. “Approximately. Since the second year of the research.”

“Four years,” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

“You’ve been planning this for four years,” he said.

“I’ve been working toward it,” I said.

“That’s the same thing,” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

He was quiet for a long time.

The link hummed at the edge of my awareness. Ben was asleep – the contentment had shifted into the specific warmth of a small wolf at rest, broadcast gently into the link in the way of someone who had no idea they were sharing their dreams.

“Does anyone else know,” Killian said.

“No,” I said.

“Does Kael know,” he said.

“No.” I said.

“Nina,” he said.

“No,” I said.

“Aria,” he said.

I paused.

“Aria,” I said, “has been watching me. She’s noticed something. She hasn’t named it yet.”