We step back into the light of the training hall. Rhett waves us over, grinning about something. The wolves are still playing in the corner—Gray’s white fur bright among the others.
Everything looks normal.
Everything feels wrong.
And somewhere—in a mirror, in a place I can’t reach—Bree is terrified and surrendering while someone I can’t see touches her.
When I close my eyes, the mirror flashes behind my eyelids.
Just for a breath.
Just long enough to see shadow chains wrapped around pale wrists, tightening until they disappear into darkness.
Chapter 19
Wes
The sanctuary gardens feel hollow in the moonlight.
I sit on the low stone wall beside what used to be flower beds, watching silver light spill across my hands. The Ether should respond to me here—Bree’s magic is woven into every stone, every blade of grass. But when I reach for it, there’s nothing. Just the familiar ache gnawing at my ribs.
The first time I fed from her, I felt complete. Not just satisfied—seen. Like every hungry, desperate part of me finally had a place to rest. She touched me and I understood what it meant to be chosen instead of tolerated.
Now everything feels like echoes.
She kissed me today. Told me she missed me. But when her lips touched mine, I felt nothing. Or maybe I felt everything she wasn’t giving me. The warmth was there, the softness, but underneath it—silence. Like kissing a beautiful reflection that can’t kiss back.
I don’t understand what’s changed. Don’t understand why the hunger has gotten worse instead of better. Don’t understand why I feel more alone now than I did before she ever touched me.
Distant laughter drifts from the sanctuary windows. Probably Rhett telling one of his stories, or maybe Theo reading something amusing aloud. Normal sounds. Comforting sounds.
Sounds that make me feel like I’m drowning.
“If she keeps pulling me into her room like that, I’m not gonna survive the week.”
The voice comes from behind me, casual and amused. I don’t turn around. Don’t have the energy to pretend I’m okay when Jace’s swagger is the last thing I need right now.
“Seriously,” he continues, and I hear the soft splash of a stone hitting the fountain. “I mean, don’t get me wrong—I’m not complaining. But damn, she’s been… intense lately.”
Something cold settles in my stomach. The way he says it. Like he’s bragging. Like he’s grateful.
Like he’s getting something I’m not.
Footsteps on gravel, then the stone shifts as he settles beside me. When I finally glance over, he’s shirtless, shirt slung over one shoulder, that familiar smug grin on his face.
The grin fades when he sees my expression.
“You okay?”
I don’t answer immediately. Can’t figure out how to explain that I’m starving in the middle of a feast. That every day I feel more like I’m disappearing.
“I don’t think she’s feeding me anymore,” I say finally.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m hungrier now than I was before I ever touched her.”
The words taste bitter. True in a way that makes my chest tight.
