The longer I put this off, the harder it’s going to be. I need to tell her the truth, to give her time to adjust before I leave. “Yes, but not in Rosehill.”

“What do you mean, ‘not in Rosehill?’”

From beneath my leg, I withdraw my brother’s letter. “I’ve decided to move to Applewood.”

She opens the missive with trembling fingers, her lips moving as she silently scans my brother’s letter. When she looks back at me, her expression is as dark and threatening as a thunderstorm. “So that’s it? You’re giving up.”

Rosehill gave up on me first. “No one has called to our door all week.” Not even Nolan has come by to visit her. When I asked about his absence, she blew me off with a wave of her hand, saying that he was busy hunting for the wolf.

A wolf they still haven’t caught.

“Because you haven’t left the house!” Nia tosses the letter onto the bottom of the bed. “Ivee is telling everyone that she plans on proposing to Ronan at the end of the month, and as soon as the prince accepts, the rest of the men will come out in droves. You’ll be beating them off with sticks. Just be patient.”

If only this were a matter of being “patient.” “Don’t you see? I have no desire to tie myself to someone who won’t stand up for me. Someone too scared of the prince’s wrath to go against his wishes. The men of Rosehill aren’t worth my time.”

A knock reverberates from downstairs. Nia and I trade looks before we both hurry into the hallway to watch my aunt saunter out of the kitchen, her serviette still clutched in her hand as she fixes her hair. When she sees us at the top of the stairs, she asks if we’re expecting any callers.

I shake my head.

Nia smirks. “Perhaps not all the men of Rosehill are cowards after all.”

Please. Whoever is at the door isn’t there for me. It’s probably Nolan coming to apologize for neglecting her.

At least I hope it is. If she loses him because of me, I will never forgive myself.

Aunt Cordelia pins on a pretty smile and swings the door aside. At her loud gasp, Nia and I both stumble down the stairs to where my aunt sways like a tree in a gale, her face as pale as porcelain. Nia tries to get to her, but it’s too late. Aunt Cordelia faints in the foyer.

The man at the door lunges, catching her right before she hits the ground.

When I notice the green-gray tint to his skin, for a second, I think it’s Everett, but then I see his longer hair and realize Maddox is here.

In my aunt’s house.

In Rosehill.

In the middle of a bloomin’ Friday.