Page 6 of A Bloom in Winter

To keep from seeming like a total SOB, he muttered, “Take care of yourself, Kane. You have my number—”

“And I’ll call you when Callum returns.”

“Yeah, you do that. Sure.”

Funny, he couldn’t remember the first time he’d met Kane, but he was not going to forget this moment as they parted for good. He went over, stuck out his palm, and lied:

“See you later.”

The reality was, Kane wasn’t going to be calling him, Callum wasn’t coming back—and there was absolutely no reason Apex was going to cross paths with this male he’d once thought he was in love with. Hell, the fact that the pair of them had met at all had been an impossibility. An aristocrat and an assassin? Nope. Destiny had a fucked-up sense of humor, though. Kane had been falsely accused of his crime and that was how he had ended up in theglymera’s hellhole. And Apex had belonged in the prison: He’d killed all the people he’d been accused of early-graving.

Kane glanced down at what was being extended out to him. “We’re staying here, Nadya and I. The Brotherhood’s going to use this facility long-term to take care of what’s left of the prison population and transition them . . .”

The male kept talking and Apex just checked out. He didn’t have any energy to spare for the happy endings of other people—

When his hand was taken by a firm grip, he came back to the present. “Take care of yourself.”

Hadn’t he already said that? Whatever, he only wanted to get the fuck out of here.

“That sounds like a permanent kind of goodbye,” Kane said softly.

You bet your ass it is.

Apex pulled his hand away and turned for the door he’d come through—

“I never thanked you.”

Frowning, Apex glanced over his shoulder. “For what?”

“All those hours you spent by my bedside. You were a good friend.”

Staring across at the male, who was now so much more than just a vampire, Apex thought back to the old location of the prison camp—and everything that had happened there. He hadn’t looked too far into his feelings then, especially when it came to Kane. He’d known he wouldn’t like what he found.

Friendship had not been it, for him.

Yet what he’d thought had been love had just been training ground for the real thing: Callum had been the true love he had never wanted or needed.

“No problem.”

When he found himself in the parking lot once again, he pivoted and looked back at the abandoned sanatorium. He’d never thought about getting his freedom before. For the century he’d been held captive, he’d been too busy fighting for survival, and not really all that interested in life anyway. Besides, if you were into killing things, what better place to be? A lawless, hidden prison ruled by a succession of freelance dictators after the aristocracy forgot about the damn place—and all the people they had falsely put in with real killers and degenerates.

Liberation had never been in his future. Him falling in love with a wolven? Also not something he’d ever seen coming. But him once again alone in the world? Not tied to anyone or anything?

Apex turned away, closed his eyes, and concentrated on calming himself.

It’s my fucking theme song, he thought as he dematerialized off into the bitterly cold night.

CHAPTER ONE

Thirty-three years later . . .

(Present day)

Snowplowing was like vacuuming. Except with heavy equipment.

As bands of flakes lashed against the truck’s windshield, the bright shock of the headlights was reflected back into the cab. Which was not what you wanted when it was a whiteout to begin with, but who the hell cared. On this thousand-acre estate, in the way-up-north part of upstate New York, what was the worst thing that could happen?

You ran shit off into the pine trees and walked home—

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