Fury was sitting on the couch when Bryce returned from the bar. In the exact spot where she’d gotten used to seeing Hunt.

Bryce chucked her keys onto the table beside the front door, loosed Syrinx upon her friend, and said, “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Fury gave Syrinx a look that stopped him in his tracks. That made him sit his fluffy butt down on the carpet, lion’s tail swaying, and wait until she deigned to greet him. Fury did so after a heartbeat, ruffling his velvety, folded ears.

“What’s up?” Bryce toed off her heels, rotated her aching feet a few times, and reached back to tug at the zipper to her dress. Gods, it was incredible to have no pain in her leg—not even a flicker. She padded for her bedroom before Fury could answer, knowing she’d hear anyway.

“I got some news,” Fury said casually.

Bryce peeled off her dress, sighing as she took off her bra, and changed into a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt before pulling her hair into a ponytail. “Let me guess,” she said from the bedroom, shoving her feet into slippers, “you finally realized that black all the time is boring and want me to help you find some real-person clothes?”

A quiet laugh. “Smart-ass.” Bryce emerged from the bedroom, and Fury eyed her with that swift assassin’s stare. So unlike Hunt’s.

Even when she and Fury had been out partying, Fury never really lost that cold gleam. That calculation and distance. But Hunt’s stare—

She shut out the thought. The comparison. That roaring fire in her veins flared.

“Look,” Fury said, standing from the couch. “I’m heading out a few days early to the Summit. So I just thought you should know something before I go.”

“You love me and you’ll write often?”

“Gods, you’re the worst,” Fury said, running a hand through her sleek bob. Bryce missed the long ponytail her friend had worn in college. The new look made Fury seem even more lethal, somehow. “Ever since I met you in that dumb-ass class, you’ve been the worst.”

“Yeah, but you find it delightful.” Bryce aimed for the fridge.

A huff. “Look, I’m going to tell you this, but I want you to first promise me that you won’t do anything stupid.”

Bryce froze with her fingers grasping the handle of the fridge. “As you’ve told me so often, stupid is my middle name.”

“I mean it this time. I don’t even think anything can be done, but I need you to promise.”

“I promise.”

Fury studied her face, then leaned against the kitchen counter. “Micah gave Hunt away.”

That fire in her veins withered to ash. “To whom?”

“Who do you think? Fucking Sandriel, that’s who.”

She couldn’t feel her arms, her legs. “When.”

“You said you wouldn’t do anything stupid.”

“Is asking for details stupid?”