EMBER’S POV
He’s wearing an orange jumpsuit, bright and garish against the elegant backdrop of the dining room.
His wrists are bound in front of him, his ankles shackled with just enough chain to let him shuffle forward.
He looks smaller than I remember, diminished somehow, like custody has already started to compress him into something lesser.
I go completely still.
The last time I saw him, he was screaming at me in a courtroom. Calling me a liar, a w***e, a worthless omega who should have been grateful for everything he gave her.
He was red-faced and feral, all his carefully constructed masks stripped away to reveal the monster underneath.
This Gale is different.
But when his eyes find mine across the room, he grins.
That same cold, cruel smile I know so well.
The one that alwa
