"I'm just saying, Jason came all the way over here to explain—"
"Jason is Knox's pack. Of course he'd say whatever Knox wanted him to say."
Robin doesn't argue. Just unmutes the TV and pulls me against his side, letting me curl into him like I used to when we were freshmen and everything was overwhelming and he was the only person who made me feel less alone.
I don't cry. I'm too tired to cry. But I don't sleep either, even after Robin goes to bed and the apartment goes dark. I just lie on the couch and stare at the ceiling and wonder if Knox is lying awake too.
Wondering if he even thinks about me at all.
The bite mark aches. I press my fingers into it, hard, until the pain drowns out everything else.
Just a few more days until the other marks are gone completely.
I don't know if I want them to fade or not. I don't know anything anymore.
I fall asleep sometime after 2 AM, still on the couch, still in my clothes.
I dream about golden eyes and the wordmine, and I wake up with tears on my face.
Chapter 16
Knox
It's been days since Toby walked out. Days since Robin slapped me and told me to stay away. Days of not sleeping, not eating, not doing anything but existing in this hollow space where my mate used to be.
The marks on my back are almost gone. I checked this morning, twisting in front of the bathroom mirror like an idiot, cataloging what's left. The scratches have faded to faint pink lines. The bite mark on my shoulder—the one Toby gave me when he was overwhelmed, when he sank his human teeth into my skin like he was trying to claim me back—is just a shadow now.
By tomorrow, there'll be nothing left.
Jason said Toby's marks were almost gone when he saw him. Said Toby wanted me to know.
Message received.
I'm in the garage, working on a bike that doesn't need fixing. It's something to do with my hands. Something to focus on besides the constant ache in my chest, the way my lion paces and whines and doesn't understand why we're not with our mate.
It's his day off. I know his schedule now—I memorized it before everything fell apart. Sundays he usually stays home, catches up on reading, does laundry. Maybe he's curled up on his couch right now. Maybe Robin's there, hovering, making sure he eats something.
Or maybe he's out. Maybe he's moving on. Maybe he's on a date with someone who won't fuck up as badly as I did—some normal human who doesn't come with a pack of idiots and a drawer full of hookup clothes and a lifetime of baggage.
The thought makes my lion snarl. I have to put down the wrench before I crush it.
"You should eat something," Silas says from the doorway. He's been doing that a lot—appearing with food, with water, with quiet concern. They all have. The whole pride tiptoeing around me like I'm a bomb about to go off.
"Not hungry."
"You haven't been hungry in four days. Your body doesn't care if you're hungry, Knox. It needs fuel."
"Later."
He doesn't push. Just sets a sandwich on the workbench and disappears.
I don't touch it.
The sun shifts through the garage windows, marking time I'm not tracking. I take apart a carburetor that's already clean. Put it back together. Take it apart again. My hands know the motions without my brain's involvement, which means my brain is free to replay every moment with Toby on an endless loop.
The way he'd looked at me that first night, soaking wet and scared but not running. The way he'd saidyour eyes are pretty when they're goldlike it was nothing. The way he'd kissed me back, desperate and wanting and completely unafraid.
The way he'd looked in my bed, wrecked and marked and perfect. The way he'd saidyourslike he meant it.
