13. Zena

I have a routine established for dealing with the wave of guilt that usually occupies me after dropping a guy. Just like Maddox, head north. Like the guys before him, I run away and retreat. It’s never stung like this before.

I dropped in on little Phoebe Kharkov first. I stopped by one of my hideouts and got dressed. Best to not approach young people in a near-naked state. She was playing by herself by the tyre swing on the outskirts of Cragstone. I had a hunch she will be there, seeing as so many visions of Zeke and Cillian’s past revolve around this place. Still a young teen her face is wide and innocent, her coppery hair wild and messy with her dark eyes keen and focused.

“Do you know who I am?” I ask, leaning against her tree, trying to look cool as she spun in slow circles back and forth. She sized me up, as brutally as only a child can do, her face scrunched up.

“You’re Alpha Cillian’s friend. You helped him save Matilda.”

“I’m Zena, yes.”

“You’re a Fate?”

“Working on it. Nearl