Good.
It’s about time.
Chapter 11
Bree
I turn to stare at Thane, and the words echo in my head like a death knell.
Phil.
He knew Phil was coming.
Knew what happened.
Knew I was being hunted.
I didn’t.
And he said nothing.
“You knew,” I whisper, voice barely audible over the murmurs of the crowd still kneeling around us. “You knew he was coming.”
Thane’s silver eyes flash with something that might be regret, but it’s too late. The damage is done.
“Bree—” someone calls from behind me. Rhett, maybe, or Gray.
“Wait, let us explain—”
“We can fix this—”
Something fractures inside me. Clean and sharp, like glass breaking along a fault line that was always there. The sound of their voices—concerned, urgent, trying to manage the situation they created—it’s too much.
“No.”
The Ether explodes out of me.
Power that swallows everything—the sanctuary doors, the crowd of Feeders, even the guys standing behind us. All of it disappears in a flood of silver light.
I stare into Thane’s eyes, and for a moment I see both versions of him overlaid like double exposure—the man I let into my heart, and the man who kept me in the dark. The one who made me feel chosen, and the one who chose to betray me.
“How could you?”
The words are barely a whisper, but the Ether swells around us, responding to the fracture in my chest.
And just as quickly as it came, it all disappears.
When the mist clears, there’s nothing.
Just endless black space dotted with distant stars, and a ground that feels like nothing but somehow holds me anyway. Empty except for me and him.
The silver strand still glows faintly between us, the only proof that any of this is real.
“Bree—” Thane starts, but I cut him off.
“Don’t.” My voice shakes with fury. “Just don’t.”
He takes a step toward me, hands raised like he’s approaching a wounded animal. Maybe that’s what I am. Maybe that’s all I’ve ever been to any of them.
