“It’s okay to cry.”
She brings a hand up to wipe her face, but I block her, doing the task myself. And when my thumb is littered with her shiny tears, I bring it up to my mouth to taste that small piece of her I’m able to call mine.
“Crying is a weakness,” she recites.
My hand tightens around her back. “Where’d you get that stupid idea?”
“Mom. She’s all about showing strength to the coven.”
Her mother can go die for all I care. Right now, any witch that isn’t Carina can burn.
“That’s bullshit, and even you know it. Emotions are strength, and tears are emotion. Bearing the weight of grief is the most difficult thing imaginable. Fuck your mother.”
She huffs her laughter, which starts undoing the knot in my chest. “Yeah, well, when agreeing to do this, it was with Mom and the coven in consideration. Now that we’re approaching the end of the week…” She tips her head up, her eyes—a crushed purple flower—clashing with mine. “I won’t regret this when your father’s healthy, or after learning what their plan is, but I still worry.”
“I told you; you’re getting out of there. I’ll make sure of it.”
She turns her face back into my shoulder and everything else seems to melt away.
Until she speaks.
“Don’t risk the pack. What happened tonight will already raise questions.”
What happened tonight was a surge of protectiveness and possessiveness never felt before. Slaughtering Jace before hauling her away to mate her would have been a better outcome.
“Sleep,kamahki,” I demand, more for my wellbeing than hers. “Feel what you need to feel. It’ll be okay.”
I’d hide her if I could—if she’d allow me. I’d sacrifice Dad if it meant saving her. It’s a hard and unacceptable reality.
In the final dredges of awareness, she mumbles, “Why do you feel like home? Like this is where I was always meant to be.”
I wait until her breathing evens out and her hold on me loosens as sleep takes her to a better place before replying.
“Because it is.”
Thirty
CARINA
“Carina,could you come inside? Alaric is asking for you.”
We got back to camp a short while ago. Ryder almost immediately disappeared, pulling that hot and cold thing he enjoys doing. This time, it doesn’t bother me. After spending the entire night curled in his arms, we both need distance from the strange truce we’ve found ourselves in.
Final day,I think, heading to where Marissa stands on the steps of Alaric’s cabin. Today marks day seven. If Sloane wants to be a bigger bitch, today will be the day she’ll come. Otherwise, hopefully she gives the pack the day and arrives tomorrow.
Approaching Marissa, I find sunken lines around her eyes and my stomach drops. “Is he?—?”
“Please, come inside.”
Feet heavy and mood heavier, I trudge behind her and shut the door, pausing at the sight. Alaric appears to have aged in the days since I was last allowed in here, the black tendrils of Darkness thicker than before. He wheezes, trying to use the wall to get himself upright. Marissa nearly knocks me over in her rush to keep him down, whispering soothing words.
“Co…”
He can’t even finish the word. Holding my breath, I step around Marissa, staring at the shifter well on his way to the Otherworld. Magick lights my hands. There’s nothing permanent to be done, but my spell from the other day may ease him.
At first peek of my light, his hand twitches in my direction, his low laboured breath a rough scrape. “Save your efforts,” he manages. “I’m dying…no matter what…”
Alaric can’t die because it’ll destroy Ryder.
