As if he’d been waiting for me to say it.
Chapter 12
Wes
She’s gone.
Fuck.
The space where Bree was standing is just—empty. Like she was never there at all. Like the Ether swallowed her whole and left the rest of us staring at nothing.
My chest caves in. Actually caves in, like someone reached through my ribs and scooped out everything that mattered. The absence hits me before my brain can even process what happened.
One second she was there, fury radiating off her in silver waves, demanding answers from Thane about Phil—Phil, who I should have told her about, who I should have warned her was coming—and the next, the world exploded in Ether light so bright it burned my retinas.
When it cleared, she was gone.
Just gone.
And the silence left behind feels like death.
“Bree?” Jace calls out, voice cracking on her name. He spins in a circle, hands outstretched like he could catch her if he just reaches far enough. “Bree, where—”
“She’s not here.” Theo’s voice is hollow, distant. “I can’t—I can’t feel her.”
Can’t feel her.
My knees almost give out.
Because I can’t either. The constant hum of awareness I’ve carried since the crown awakened everything—the way my magic always knew exactly where she was, like a compass needle pointing north—it’s just… quiet.
Static.
Nothing.
“No.” The word rips out of me, raw and desperate. “No, she’s here. She has to be here.”
I stumble forward, hands grasping at empty air where she was standing. Where the silver strand connected her to Thane just moments ago. But there’s nothing. Not even a whisper of mist to prove she existed at all.
The crowd of Feeders who were kneeling around us is in chaos—some backing away from the spot where their Source just vanished, others pressing closer like proximity might bring her back. Their voices blend into a hum of confusion and panic that makes my skin crawl.
“Everyone inside.” Stellan’s voice cuts through the noise, sharp and commanding in a way that leaves no room for argument. “Now.”
He doesn’t wait to see if they listen. Just strides toward us, his usually perfect composure cracked enough that I can see the calculation running behind his eyes. Damage control. Crisis management.
But all I can focus on is the empty space where she should be.
“Wes.” Gray’s hand lands on my shoulder, solid and warm. “Come on.”
I shake him off. “I’m not leaving her.”
“She’s not here,” he says, gentler now. “Whatever happened, whatever the Ether did—she’s not here anymore.”
The words sink in, heavy and final. Because I know he’s right. I can feel the wrongness of this space now, the way it tastes like absence instead of her.
But I can’t make my feet move. Can’t accept that she’s just… gone.
“When did that happen?” I whisper, the question clawing its way up my throat. “When did she become—”
