“He followed me in the hallway after I went looking for you,” I tell him. “I ran into him, and it sent my contacts flying. I couldn’t even make out his face. When I got back here, there was a snowdrop hanging from the coat rack.”
His hand wraps around mine—and slowly guides it down until the knife clatters to the floor. He pulls me into his chest, arms banding tight, one hand cradling the back of my head.
His whole body is vibrating in anger.
“I wasn’t far,” he whispers into my hair. “I shifted. I lost control, so I stepped out onto the balcony, and then I saw a hooded figure, and I followed him. I rushed back as soon as I heard your scream.”
I sob into his shoulder.
“I didn’t know,” he whispers. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know.” Each repetition cracks a little more. “Gods, Lumi. I should’ve known.”
We stand there for a long time.
He pulls me tighter. “You can’t leave my sight, even for a minute. They won’t touch you again. I swear it.”
If only I hadn’t pushed him so far, he would have never needed to step out onto the balcony in the first place. None of this would have ever happened.
“He spoke to me... before I ran away.”
“Spoke to you? About what?”
“Just a cryptic message about bleeding when I’m not wounded.”
Andrik pov:
I wasn’t here. SomemateI am.
I squeeze her tighter, pressing my nose to her hair and inhaling her scent as deep as my lungs will allow.
I left her.Even if only for a few minutes, even if I was tracking him, even if I came back the second I heard her scream—I left her.
And now she’s drenched in terror.
I inhale, and it’s all wrong; it’s not sugar and heat anymore. It’s sharp and laced with panic—because of me.
I lean down and whisper into her hair, “I should’ve stayed. I should’ve known.”
She doesn’t say anything. I can’t stop disgust from culling its claws in my gut.
I felt him after I shifted. That shadow-slickness, gliding like oil across the edges of my senses. He was close. I thought I finally had him.
He watched her while I wasn’t looking. How is he doing this?
Her back trembles in my arms as she attempts to hold back sobs. My arms tighten around her. I won't let go. Not until she feels safe again—not until I do.
The guilt inside me rises until I feel like I’m choking. It gnaws at my ribs, echoing with every heartbeat— too late, too late, too late?—
More than twenty minutes have gone by, and neither of us has moved a muscle.
I press a kiss to her temple, then her cheek. She blinks up at me as I take a step backward, and I feel like something’s been ripped from my chest the second she leaves my arms.
The moment she’s steady on her feet, I shift just enough for my snout to flatten before going back to normal.
It's time for me to leave a message of my own.
“I need to go out to the balcony for a little while. Do you want to come with me?’ I pause. “There will be blood, Lumi.”
She scans my face for a moment.
