My body ached as if it had been. My throat was raw, like I’d screamed into the night.
Beside me, Xanthy stirred. I let her nuzzle into my chest with a content hum, oblivious to the storm tearing me apart inside. She thought this was safety…love. The future, she convinced herself, was worth giving.
I should have let Roxy eat her that night.
I brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and forced myself to breathe evenly, to memorize the curve of her jaw, the delicate slope of her lips. If I stared hard enough, maybe it would be enough to banish what I’d seen in Carrington’s eyes, and the memory of his lips against mine.
But every time I closed my eyes, I saw them: gold, burning, and fucking feral. The hunger in them matched something deep and ravaged inside me.
Lying with Xanthy’s body pressed to mine, I realized the truth I couldn’t admit out loud.
If it was just a dream, why did it feel like a memory?
I leaned over and kissed Xanthy’s lips, desperately trying to feel something ignite inside me. I pushed my tongue into her mouth and listened to her moans as she stirred under me.
But there was no fight…No demand, just a complacency that bored me to tears.
“Mmm. Well, good morning, baby…I don’t remember you getting back last night. Are you okay?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I pressed my lips harder into her, pushing my morning wood into the apex of her silky thighs, the room still swallowed in shadows.
Dammit. Please. Just enjoy this.
But she wasn’t Carrington.
And she never would be.
After going through the motions with her, I retreated and got dressed for the fucking wedding. I’d been dreading this day because I knew what it meant, and fuck me…
I wasn’t ready.
The driveto the lodge felt longer than it should have.
It was equally annoying because Xanthy hummed under her breath, fingering the clasp on her earrings in the visor mirror and applying makeup as if the car glove box were her personal vanity.
I kept my eyes on the road, but Carrington’s absence hung around me like smoke.
He hadn’t come back. Days upon days had passed. Not a word, not a sign, not even a text. Just silence where his presence should’ve been, and a dead body lay out to taunt me. My chest tightened at a thought:
Was he hunting someone else so he could torment me?
Or had I finally pushed him too far, and he didn’t want anything to do with me now?
Every shadow on the road whispered possibilities, none I wanted to consider.
“You okay?” Xanthy said, brushing her hand over mine. Her perfume was soft, and weirdly, the lilacs were grounding for once, reminding me of the woods.
Of him.
“Fine,” I lied.
She gave me that look that said she didn’t buy it, but she didn’t push this time.
“I should tell you now so you aren’t a deer in headlights who’s all going to be there. Hansel is the groom, and?—”
“Grettel is the bride?”
Xanthy didn’t laugh, and I sighed. “Sorry.”
