?Chapter 314:

The thought ws at my brain, unraveling everything I thought I knew. If he’s out there, if he’s really alive…

Then everything I’ve built is about toe crashing down.

Jasmine’s POV

Waking up alone again, the sheets cold and untouched on Ryder’s side, felt like a fucking sucker punch. Third time in three days. Three goddamn days of this—of him slipping out before the sun and returning like a shadow in the night. No exnations, no words, not even his usual snarky grin that drove me up the wall and down again. Something was wrong.

Ryder wasn’t just distant; he was practically a ghost in his own house. He’d always been the kind of guy who wore his emotions like armor—cocky, infuriating, but present. Now? He was a locked vault, and I didn’t have thebination. And hell, if that didn’t scare me more than anything else. Still, I told myself I’d wait. Whatever he was hiding, he’d tell me when he was ready. Right?

The water from the shower was still dripping down my back as I stepped out of the bathroom, tying the belt of my robe tight around my waist. The cool air hit me, but it wasn’t the chill that stopped me dead in my tracks—it was him.

Ryder.

He was standing by the door, his broad frame blocking the light from the hallway. But something was off. His face looked different—rougher, harder, like he’d aged a decade in a day. His beard was gone, which wasn’t a bad look, but it threw me. Ryder rarely touched his beard, iming it was his “signature charm,” whatever the hell that meant.

His eyes caught mine, but there was no warmth there. No flicker of recognition or love or even irritation. Just cold, empty darkness.

“Ryder?” I whispered, stepping toward him.

He moved closer, his scent hitting me like a wall. It wasn’t his usual blend of cedarwood and something uniquely him. No, this was different. Sharper. Metallic. Like blood and ash.

Find the magic on g?lnσν????s???????

A knot formed in my stomach. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice shaking despite myself. “Why do you keep pushing me away? What’s going on with you?”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t fucking answer.

Instead, he just red at me—this slow, bone-chilling look that stripped me bare. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t sadness. It was… empty. Hollow. Like the man I loved wasn’t standing in front of me anymore.

I was about to ask again, to demand answers this time, when the door opened behind him.

And my heart stopped. Ryder stepped in.

Another Ryder.

My head snapped back to the man in front of me, then to the one standing in the doorway. My breath hitched, a cold rush flooding my veins.

“What the actual fuck—”

The Ryder by the door looked like my Ryder. The one I knew. His beard was still intact, his jaw tight with that familiar mix of annoyance and concern. His eyes found mine, and for the first time in three days, I saw him. Really saw him.

I blinked, my head spinning. “Why are there two of you? What is this?”

The Ryder in front of me—the one without the beard—grinned. And it was the kind of grin that turned my blood to ice. Cold. Calcting. Wrong.

.

.

.