EMBER’S POV
The question lands in the car like a third passenger.
I take my eyes off the road long enough to look at her and from her face, I can tell she is not fishing for reassurance or testing me.
She’s asking because she genuinely doesn’t know the answer and the not knowing is eating her from the inside.
“Queenie—”
“I know he’s my fated mate. I know the Goddess paired us. I know all the texts and the traditions and the lore that says this bond is sacred and chosen and meant to be. But the Goddess didn’t sit in that room this morning and listen to my husband confess that he drugged his best friend’s coffee and engineered a woman’s death for research data.” Her hands are twisting in her lap, fingers pulling at each other. “How am I supposed to lie next to him tonight knowing what
