I don’t make it all the way down, managing to keep some control of my spine, but my head dips, my chin falling to my chest as my eyelids fall closed. I can hear them murmuring around me, but I’m too exhausted to do anything.
My mind is quiet. My body is weak. My soul is shattered.
I can’t see, but I feel hands gently touch me and I don’t fight it. Hiked to my feet, I don’t know how I have the strength to stand, but with my arm slung around someone’s shoulders, and another strong build propping me up on the other side, I know I’m moving.
Nothing makes sense around me except for the warm press of a palm against mine.
It’s the only thing keeping me from floating away into the dead of night.
My steps are slow, but grow more confident after each one, my senses ghosting along my skin just in time for me to finally be able to understand what they’re whispering about.
“We can take it from here,” Thorne murmurs, and I can only assume it’s to Elodie, but her hand tightens further around mine.
She stays by my side as I hear the sound of a door swing open, then another, before I’m slowly lowered to a bed. Not any bed.Mybed.
Thank God.
Sleeping in my car was not a good look for me.
The whispers continue, but I don’t open my eyes. I know I can, but I just cannot bring myself to do it as soon as her hand slips from mine. It’s only when I hear the door click shut in the distance that I let defeat set in. It’s intertwined with relief, knowing that I didn’t hurt her, but fuck knows how long Thorne’s magic will suffice.
Clearing my throat, I test the weight of my voice. “She’s gone, isn’t she?” I murmur, hearing a slight shuffle from across the room.
“No.”
My eyes dart open, following the sound of that sweet melodic voice to find the woman in question leaning against the door as she assesses me. I can sense her nerves as she rubs her lips together, uncertainty fluttering her heartbeat.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice gravely as I sit straighter, my strength coming back to me faster now that I’m sitting in front of her.
She scoffs, tucking a loose curl of purple hair behind her ear. “Don’t ask me that. You’re the oneIshould be asking that question to,” she states, and I shake my head.
“Never. Don’t ask me that,” I bite, a little harsher than necessary, but she doesn’t let it affect her as she snickers at me.
“You might technically be my guardian asshole, but you really need to stop trying to control me. That includes telling mewhat I can and cannot ask.” She gives me a pointed look, but I’m too caught up in what she called me to fully absorb the rest.
“Guardian asshole?” I repeat, and she shrugs.
“Well, you’re no angel.”
I laugh, the sound surprising even me as it ripples from my chest and vibrates in my throat. She’s telling the truth there. It takes a second for me to compose myself, but when I do, bringing my gaze back to hers, I find a somber look in her eyes. One blue, one fractured, a blur of red tinging the blue, making it almost purple.
Her scarred eye makes my heart ache. I know it was him, but acknowledging it only confirms the pain he’s caused her. She doesn’t need my reminder too.
“Did you mean what you said?” she breathes, her heartbeat lurching at the question.
“Which part?”
“That you wanted to die?”
I grimace as soon as she says it, but I answer her honestly. “If the only alternative is harming you, then yes. I don’t want to die, but I would if it meant protecting you,” I clarify, making sure she understands, and her jaw falls slack. “But don’t let it go to your head,” I add, desperate to ease the tension in the room, and to my surprise, it works.
“Too late,” she says with a smile, standing taller as she continues to use the door to prop her up.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, my next breath easier to manage now I’ve said those two words again.
“You said that already,” she states, a small smile ghosting her lips as she clears her throat. “How long?”
“How long what?” I ask for clarification because fuck knows what she’s referring to.
