“Is that what he’s telling you?” Remus lights up, obviously furious. “And who’s the other victim—you?”
“No,” I say, impatient with his deliberate misunderstanding. “He’d never say that. He’s incredibly long-suffering about the whole thing, but he deserves a life and happiness too, you know. We all do.”
“And you’d be happier with him, is that it?”
I throw my hands up in frustration. “I never said that! If you would just listen to the actual words coming out of my mouth instead of hearing what you’re afraid I’m saying?—”
“Just say it with your full chest,” he interrupts, voice harsh. “You prefer him to me, and you’re both trying to edge me out.”
“What?” All the breath leaves my chest like I’ve been punched. “That’s not?—”
I try to approach him, but he physically bars me with his hands up.
“Don’t,” he says, his voice dangerous. “It’s been the same story my whole life. From the day I was born.”
I see all the hurt in his eyes at his words—raw, bleeding pain. Even though he’s pulling away from me at the same time. Not so much physically, but I can feel walls springing up between us. Mountains of them. Barriers I don’t know how to climb.
I want to tell him no, that I understand his hurt. Maybe I don’t know exactly how bad it was with his archaic father and the abuse his brothers endured or what that kind of prolonged trauma was like for thousands of years.
But I do know what it’s like to want the love of a parent and feel constant rejection instead. I know what it’s like to never be good enough, to always be too much or not enough.
If he would just let me in instead of pushing me away and assuming the worst about my intentions?—
“Is it so impossible to believe that I could love both of you?” I ask, and I can hear my voice breaking. My heart breaking. “Is there no world where you could believe that I’m the kind of person with enough love in my heart to finally give you the absolute, unconditional love you’ve always deserved?”
I take a step toward him, needing him to hear this.
“Because I do, Remus. I love you.”
The words hang in the air between us—the first time I’ve said them out loud.
“And I see how you’re hurting. I want to prove to you that you can be loved completely—wholly, fiercely, unconditionally—in a world where he exists too. Let me prove to you how worthy I think you are. How deserving of love and happiness and everything good.”
He’s only standing a few feet away from me, but it feels like miles. I can see him shaking with emotion he doesn’t know how to express. Doesn’t know how to process.
An explosive knock at the door stops both of us before anything else can be said. Before I can reach him. Before he can respond.
Remus stalks toward the door and yanks it open with an explosive, “What?”
“It’s happening,” Abaddon says, voice urgent and grim.
My face whips back and forth between both of them. “Whatis?!”
THIRTY
LAUREN
“What’s happening?”Remus’s impatience crackles through the air, echoing my question.
“Goddammit, Remus.” Abaddon’s voice carries the weight of someone who’s had to repeat himself one too many times. “You and Romulus need to figure out whatever’s off between you two because it’s really fucking obnoxious to have to say everything twice. The end of the world meeting we had this morning? It’s happening.”
The words hit me like ice water.
End of the world meeting?
My heart lurches into my throat as I sprint across the room to where they’re huddled at the door. Wait—this morning? When I was stewing in my feelings for Remus like some romance novel heroine, they were planning for the actual apocalypse?
“Stay here.” Remus’s command is gruff as he steps through the doorway, one massive hand already shoving the door closed in my face.
