Blood. Lots of it.
My hands fly to my face. Testing, searching. But my nose doesn’t feel like it’s bleeding.
“It’s his,” Nia whispers. “Eric. You… you shredded him, Kennedy. Analpha.”
Eric.
The tension in my body releases, escaping in a rush that has me falling on my ass, shuddering breaths clawing from my throat as I bury my face in my hands.
Dangerous.
Defective.
Dead.
The words tumble over in my mind, merging into one as the sobs break free. I couldn’t stop them if I tried, a dam breaking free that I’ve held in place for months through denial and sheer force of will.
I thought I’d have more time.
Despite Abram’s warnings, despite my scans, I realize that I truly thought that it wouldn’t happen. That it wouldn’t go that far.
A hand touches my shoulder, and I flinch back. “Don’t touch me.”
I’m dangerous.
“You’re not going to hurt me,” Nia murmurs. She settles opposite me as I blink the water from my eyes, and start to slowly rebuild those walls.
No, I wouldn’t hurt her. Not intentionally. But I can’t trust my own body, not anymore.
God.Nia.
My head jerks up. “You can’t tell anyone. Not Theo. Or Jake. Any of them.”
She stares at me. “But… you’re their mate. Aren’t you? Jake told me this morning.”
A new panic overtakes me. “Promise me. I helped you, Nia. Promise me you won’t say anything.”
She hesitates. I lunge forward, and she flinches back. My hand stops in mid-air. “Please.”
“Why?” She assesses me, her lips pressing together. “I don’t want Theo to get hurt. Not after…,”
I see it. That moment of realization.
“What happened to my brother?” she whispers. “Did you… did you dothatto him?”
I shake my head. Slowly, and then faster. “No.No.”
She blinks slowly. And then she flips the question around, her eyes narrowing. “Did… did he do this to you? Make you like this?”
She’s close. Closer than anyone has ever gotten, apart from the people involved in the aftermath. “Leave it be. It’s better that way.”
I roll onto my knees, use the wall to push myself upright. She follows, her face pale. “He did, didn’t he? He did something to you.”
I wet my dry lips. “Are you going to tell them?”
“You should tell them—,”
“It won’t help.” I brace myself against the plaster, breathing through my nose. “It won’t do anything but cause them more pain, Nia.”
