“What happened?”
“Are you okay?”
“Where the hell have you been?”
“Why is there vomit in the bookstore?”
“Your door was wide open!”
I held up a hand because my head was pounding and their voices felt like ice picks drilling into my brain. “Can you maybe not yell?”
They immediately lowered their voices but didn’t stop the barrage of questions. Krystin sat on the bed next to me and grabbed my hand. “Wen. Babe. We’ve been trying to call you for two months. Two. Months. We thought you were dead.”
I blinked at her. “Two months?”
“Yes! You said you were taking a few days off and then you just disappeared. Your phone went straight to voicemail.” Krystin’s grip tightened on my hand. “After two weeks we were going to file a missing person report but then we realized how the hell would we explain to the police that you might be with a werewolf from another dimension? They’d think we were insane. So we just kept waiting and hoping you’d come back.”
Two months. Time moved differently between the realms. I’d been in Lytopia for maybe a week and a half, almost two weeks total. But here it had been two entire months.
The realization hit me and I started crying again. Just broke down sobbing right there in front of all of them.
They didn’t demand explanations. Just climbed onto the bed with me and held me while I cried into Krystin’s shoulder. Bella rubbed my back in slow circles. Daphne stroked my hair and made soothing sounds. They let me fall apart without asking for anything in return.
When I finally calmed down enough to breathe without hiccupping, Krystin pulled back and looked at me seriously. “Okay. Now you need to tell us everything. And I mean everything.”
So I did. I told them about being dragged to another realm against my will. About werewolves and castles and councils and nobles who looked at me with contempt. About falling in love with him despite my better judgment. About completing the bond and what that meant. About the heat and how intense it was. About the assassination attempt in the library. About him rejecting me in front of his entire court and sending me back here like I was trash he needed to dispose of.
They listened without interrupting. Their expressions went from shocked to furious to devastated on my behalf.
When I finished, Krystin spoke first. “I’m going to kill him. Actually kill him. I’ll find a way back to that dimension and rip his throat out myself.”
“Get in line,” Daphne said with uncharacteristic venom in her usually dreamy voice. “He sounds like he deserves to suffer. Maybe we could curse him? Do you think the portal spell would work in reverse?”
“He’s in another dimension,” I pointed out. My voice was hoarse from crying and talking. “You can’t exactly get to him.”
“I don’t care if he’s a king or a werewolf or whatever,” Bella said quietly. She was usually the shy one but her eyes were blazing. “He hurt you. That makes him terrible no matter what realm he’s from.”
I loved them so much in that moment I almost started crying again.
***
My friends didn’t leave my side for weeks. Took turns staying over at my apartment. Made sure I ate even when I didn’t want to because food tasted like ash in my mouth. Forced me to shower and change clothes when I would’ve been content to rot in bed. Ran the bookstore downstairs so I didn’t have to deal with customers or make small talk or pretend I was okay.
Krystin moved in temporarily and slept on my couch. Said she wasn’t leaving until I was functional again. Bella brought over meals she’d cooked and wouldn’t leave until I’d eaten at least half. Daphne handled all the bookstore finances and inventory because numbers made my brain shut down.
They were the best friends anyone could ask for. The family I’d chosen. The people who showed up when everything fell apart.
By week three I was starting to feel a little better emotionally. The crying jags were less frequent. I could make it through most of the day without wanting to curl up in a ball and cease to exist. The sharp edge of the pain had dulled to a constant ache instead of a stabbing wound.
But my body wasn’t cooperating.
I was throwing up constantly. Felt dizzy whenever I stood up too fast. Couldn’t keep food down no matter what I tried. Everything smelled wrong and made me nauseous. Even things I’d loved before made my stomach revolt.
I thought maybe it was just stress. Heartbreak manifesting physically. Depression doing weird things to my system because my brain chemistry was completely fucked.
But Krystin had a different theory.
“Wen,” she said carefully one morning after I’d just finished puking in the bathroom for the third time before noon. “Is it possible that you’re... you know.”
