Weird.
I pull another blade, focus harder this time. The throw is perfect—too perfect. The knife hangs in the air for just a beat too long before embedding itself exactly where I aimed.
My breathing picks up, not from exertion but from something else. Something that makes my skin prickle and the air around me feel... different.
"Not now," I mutter, wiping sweat from my forehead. "Not tonight."
But even as I say it, I can feel something stirring in my chest. Like a door I didn't know existed has cracked open, and whatever's on the other side is trying to get out.
I throw the rest of the knives in quick succession, each one finding its mark with impossible precision. When I'm done, I stand there breathing hard, staring at the perfect pattern they've made in the bark.
That's not normal. That's nothuman.
But I don't have the energy to deal with whatever this is. Not tonight. Not when Theo's words are still echoing in my head, cutting deeper than any blade ever could.
I collect the knives in silence, shoving them back into their sheaths with more force than necessary. The house looms ahead, warm light spilling from the windows like a promise I'm not sure I deserve.
As I slip back through the door, the familiar sounds of home wash over me—the hum of the refrigerator, the creak of old floorboards, the distant murmur of voices from upstairs. It should be comforting. Instead, it just reminds me how easy it would be for all of this to disappear.
How easy it would be for them to realize they don't need me.
I'm halfway to my room when I hear it—Bree's voice, soft and muffled, drifting from behind her door. She's not alone. Theo's voice answers, too quiet for me to make out words but unmistakably his.
I should keep walking. Should give them privacy. Should mind my own damn business.
Instead, I slow my steps, drawn by the need to know something, anything about what's really going on.
"I called work," Bree is saying, her voice barely audible through the wood. "Told them I needed more time."
Theo says something I can't catch, his tone gentle but serious.
"I know," Bree replies. "But I can't ask them to come with me. I can't ask any of you to uproot your lives just because mine is falling apart." Her voice cracks slightly. "I've already taken enough from all of you just by existing."
The words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs.Taken from us?She thinks she's taken something from us?
Theo's response is too quiet to hear, but whatever he says makes Bree laugh—bitter and broken.
"Maybe. But that doesn't make it fair."
I step back from the door, my chest tight with emotions I don't want to feel. She's not trying to leave us behind. She's trying not to take us down with her.
But she doesn't understand. Doesn't realize that we're already gone. That we crossed that line years ago and there's no going back.
My fists clench at my sides as I retreat to my room, Theo's words and Bree's pain mixing together into something sharp and jagged in my chest.
Expendable.
Maybe I am. Maybe we all are, in the face of whatever's coming for her. But I'd follow her anyway. Into whatever mess she thinks she's dragging us toward.
Gods help me, I already have.
Chapter 15
Theo
The kitchen hums with ordinary evening energy, but something feels off-balance.
Bree stands at the stove making dinner, stirring cheese sauce with absent movements while her mind clearly wanders elsewhere. She's been quiet since we spoke this afternoon in her room, processing everything Thane and Stellan revealed. Jace sets the table with restless energy, silverware clinking against plates as he moves. Rhett organizes tomorrow's work supplies by the back door—mundane tasks that feel necessary when everything else feels uncertain.
