With a heavy heart, I sink deeper beneath the blankets, though warmth is hardly an issue with two giant wolves and a leopard curled up beside me. Their steady presence forms a living barrier, shielding me from the emptiness that gnaws at my chest. I press my face into Maxon’s pillow, inhaling the faintest traces of his scent still clinging to the fabric. A shuddering breath escapes, tension unraveling at the edges.
I don’t expect sleep to come easily, but I’m caught off guard when the gentle tendrils of exhaustion wind their way around my mind, pulling me under without resistance. The steady rise and fall of the others’ breathing becomes a lullaby of sorts, rhythmic and grounding. The warmth surrounding me is almost smothering, yet it cocoons my body in a fragile sense of safety.
And for the first time in what feels like forever, I let it take me.
I blink against the soft sunlight filtering through the curtains, feeling the gentle warmth of the breeze as it floats in, making the fabric dance. A sense of contentment fills me as I lie here, soothing the jagged edges left by Maxon’s absence. It’s good to be home, but I won’t truly feel at peace until Maxon returns. I’ve only been in Faerie for a month at most, but it has quickly drawn me in, and I can’t imagine ever leaving. I miss my friends dearly and know they’ll be heartbroken, but I hope Nero was able to delivermy message to them. My hope is that they find some comfort in knowing that I’m safe, even if I never return.
Rolling over, I startle and quickly sit up. “Zaria, you’re back.”
Zaria is sitting up beside me, her legs crossed as she plays with her sleeve. Those warm brown eyes lift to mine, and I see tears threatening to spill over. Hastily, I reach out for her, pulling her into my arms. Zaria’s arms hook under mine, her hands quivering as they grip my shoulders. A gut-wrenching sob tears through her body, the sound reverberating in the air and slashing at my heart.
“She’s really gone,” Zaria cries, her soft voice breaking under the weight of overwhelming grief. The sound of her pain rips through me, each sob pulling at my heart.
Her body trembles in my arms, and I feel utterly powerless, like I’m standing on the edge of an abyss with no way to pull her back.
“I’m so sorry, Zar,” I whisper, my voice thick with my own sorrow, though the words feel woefully inadequate. What can I possibly say to make this better? Nothing I offer will ease the ache or fill the void that’s tearing her apart.
“She was so young . . . She didn’t deserve her fate,” Zaria’s voice cracks again, and I can feel her pain, raw and unfiltered, pouring into every word.
Zaria’s shoulders heave with sobs, and I tighten my grip around her, as if holding her close can somehow shield her from the hurt threatening to consume her.
“No, she didn’t,” I reply, my voice faltering as emotions I’ve been trying to bury rise to the surface. My throat tightens, and I struggle to hold back the tears threatening to spill. The loss is toomuch, too sudden, and I feel it clawing at me just as fiercely as it is at her.
Zaria buries herself deeper into my arms, her body shaking violently now. I press my cheek against the top of her head, feeling the strands of her brown hair tickle my face as we cling to each other. When her sobs finally quiet down, she lets go of me, her hand reaching up to wipe the tears from under her eyes.
“I can’t believe I just cried all over you.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you needed me.”
“That was out of your control.”
My shoulders slump, and I drop my gaze to my hands, to Maxon’s ring. The stress and anxiety of the last few days bubbles to the surface. Zaria reaches over and grips my hands.
“We will get him back.” Her voice is firm, filled with quiet conviction.
I bob my head up and down, but I can’t bring myself to look at her or to speak. The words feel hollow, like I’m just going through the motions, too lost in my own despair to believe them.
“We will,” she repeats, squeezing my hands tighter. “The whole kingdom has come together. They want their king returned. They will fight for it.”
My chest tightens at her words, a mixture of anger and guilt swirling inside me.
“She took him because she couldn’t get to me,” I murmur.
“I know,” Zaria replies softly.
I finally lift my gaze, staring into Zaria’s big brown eyes. “He’s blocked the bond.” The words were barely audible, as if speaking them out loud makes it too real. “I can’t feel him anymore.”
“He’s trying to protect you.” Sympathy edges Zaria’s voice.
“I just want to know he’s okay,” I admit, my throat tight with unshed tears. “But that’s stupid. Of course he isn’t okay.” Anger wells up in me, and I swipe at the tears that have escaped my eyes. “This isn’t about me right now.”
Zaria stays quiet, her hands still wrapped around mine, offering silent comfort. I take a deep breath and glance at her, trying to find something else to focus on—anything to pull myself out of this spiral. My eyes land on her hair, and a small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I reach up and tug on it gently. “You shifted.”
“Yeah.” Her lips curve into a faint smile. “I got stuck for a bit, but you got through to me. I still wasn’t able to fully shift back into my regular form.” She gestures toward her ears, which still have a distinctly feline shape.
“I like you like this,” I assure her, my smile growing a little wider.
“Yes, but having a tail can be awkward,” she quips, a hint of humor creeping into her voice.
