Raiden’s jaw tightens, but it’s Zaria who answers. “The implications of Everly developing fangs are severe. If she doesn’t have her mate here to feed from, it could lead to . . . It could lead to her falling ill or even going mad.”
Mia’s eyes dart to me, worry clouding her face. “Can’t she just . . . feed from someone else?”
Raiden’s silver eyes meet mine. “No. It has to be her mate. That’s the only way to stabilize her.”
“Okay, so what do we dothen?” Mia asks.
Raiden starts pacing, muttering under his breath. I don’t think I’ve seen him like this, and it doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.
“How long do I have before I need to feed?”
Raiden turns and stares out the open balcony doors. “The new moon is in two days.”
I stand up and walk over to the balcony doors, pushing the sheer curtains aside. “How long does the new moon phase last?” I whisper, trying not to let distress seep into my voice.
“The moon goddess graces us three days of each moon phase. But that does not mean the need to feed from Maxon will pass with the phase, it will only get worse. As will the headaches,” Zaria explains softly.
“And what do I do?” I look over my shoulder, my fingers gripping the curtain tightly.
“We will have to lock you in here when the new moon comes and hope for the best. You will be a danger to yourself and everyone around you.”
Zaria stands, her tail whipping back and forth. “I will stay with her.”
“I just want him back. I want this nightmare over with.”
Once Mia and Scarlett leave with Raiden, I retreat to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. The silence feels heavy, pressing down around me as I peel off my wet clothes and drop them onto the tiled floor with a soggy thud. The shock of everything that just happened—the pain, the fangs, Raiden’s tense reaction—buzzes through me, a reminder of just how out of control things have become.
I don’t tell anyone about Fenris or Faelynn. My complicated past with Fenris isn’t something I’m ready to share, and meetingthe water spirit . . . Well, that felt too strange, too personal. I can still hear her words echoing in my mind:You’ll need each other very soon.
I step into the shower, letting the hot water pour over me, washing away the lake’s chill. My hands scrub the last remnants of mud from my skin, letting the sweet bubbly scents calm my thoughts. As I step out of the shower, I catch my reflection in the fogged mirror—a small, almost imperceptible hint of fangs peeking from beneath my upper lip. My heart thrums faster, making my hands tremble as I run a finger over one of the sharp points again, feeling the sting as it pricks my skin. A reminder of the transformation that’s begun, and the future that awaits me if I don’t find a way to reach Maxon. Faelynn’s words float through my mind again. She seemed to think there was a way.
Chapter thirty-four
Everly
Confusion clouds my mind as I look around. I’m in the garden again, that familiar tug pulling at my chest. It is so dark, and the silence that surrounds me is thick, pushing in from all sides like a physical force.
Slowly, I walk forward until an old abandoned well comes into view. I stop a few feet away, looking at the moss-covered stones, each etched with strange symbols, shimmering in the moonlight.
“Everly . . . ”the voice calls again, soft and melodic, like a lullaby drifting through the air. It seeps into my bones, familiar and haunting. My breath hitches, and I can feel the tremor move through me as I step closer to the old well. Something pounds inside me, fierce and frantic, each thud echoing in my ears, the thudding so loud I’m sure the entire forest can hear it.
Slowly, my hands land on the edge of the old well, fingers curling around the cold stone.
The moss is damp and soft beneath my touch, but under that is the rough, jagged rock, a sharp reminder of where I am—teetering on the edge of something unknown, something dark. I swallow hard, forcing down the rising panic that swells in my throat. Fear prickles across my skin, but something is pulling me closer, a force I can’t resist.
Holding my breath, I lean over the edge to peer into the inky depths of the well. Even though I’m outside in the open air, feelings of panic tighten my chest as if I’m alone in an enclosed, dark space. My pulse pounds, making spots dance in front of my eyes. Dizziness swamps me and I feel like I’m about to tip over and fall into that abyss.
Another gust of wind whips through the air, ruffling my hair and sending it across my face, momentarily blinding me. Pushing it back with shaking hands, fingers trembling against my skin, I notice the mist—thick, swirling around me, closing in like a ghostly shroud. It wasn’t there before. I’m sure of it.
The voice comes again from deep within the well.
“Everly . . . ”
It sings my name with a sweetness that makes my stomach twist. There’s something wrong, something lurking beneath the surface of that melody. It sounds too kind, too soft, like a predator luring its prey.
I step back, but the mist curls tighter around me, tendrils of fog slithering over my skin like icy fingers. The mist feels alive, as if it’s trying to pull me closer, to draw me into the well’s grasp.
"Who are you?" My voice cracks, little more than a whisper swallowed by the rush in my ears. It’s like a drumbeat surging through me, loud and relentless, drowning out everything but the throb of panic rising beneath my skin. But the well doesn’tanswer. Only silence follows, suffocating, as the mist thickens, making it harder to breathe.
