Rhysand.
The city blurs past in streaks of neon and shadow as I gun the engine through the empty streets. My phone sits in the passenger seat like a live grenade, the screen still glowing with those two words: TRACKER ACTIVE.
My Rain is home. Finally.
After days of radio silence, after her vanishing act, after Caiden’s smug little bomb about some “amazing designer,” the tracker pings her exact location to her apartment building.
Relief should flood me. Instead, fury coils tighter in my gut, hot and vicious.
She ran. She ignored every call, every text, every goddamn plea I swallowed my pride to send. And treats me like the f*****g enemy.
I take the last turn too fast, tires squealing against wet asphalt. Her apartment building looms ahead, and I kill the engine half a block away and s
