Even though I’m broken.
Maybe they deserve to know.
I let out a shaky sigh, closing my eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath. My gaze drifts to Ezra, then to the floor, where the black suitcase that Ace brought still lies abandoned.
And then I just say it.
I tell them about Rosalee, Ace, and the night everything fell apart. How we made a stupid, reckless decision that cost me everything. How my twin, my other half, was gone, and how I lost Ace too. How I thought I had killed them both. How I ended up here, in Vegas, trying to run away from a past I could never escape. And how, for eight years, I believed I was alone, carrying all the guilt, all the pain, trying to drown it in alcohol, strangers, being a stripper, and anything that made me forget for a little while.
And now, how I found out that Ace—Alaric—has been alive all this time. Standing right in front of me, thinking I was someone else. Thinking I was gone, the same way I thought he was.
I don’t know how long I speak for. I don’t even know if I make sense. It all spills out in a tangled mess of emotions, the words tumbling over each other, and by the time I finish, I feel completely drained, nothing left inside me. But as my voice fades and my gaze moves toward the door Ace disappeared through, all I can feel is the weight of everything I’ve already lost.
And the gut-wrenching fear that maybe I’ve already lost him all over again.
NINE
The moment I reach my room, I lock the door behind me, pressing my forehead against the wood. My chest is heaving, and it’s as if a vice is around my ribs, squeezing the air out of me. My pulse roars in my ears, drowning out every thought except one.
She’s alive.
Novalee.
I turn to walk to the bed, but my legs give out, and I sink to the floor.
Fuck.
My hands clutch my hair, pulling at it as if the pain will wake me from this nightmare, or dream, or whatever the hell this is.
How can she be alive?
And how the hell am I supposed to deal with it?
I thought I killed her. For eight years, I’ve lived in a cell built from grief and guilt, convinced that I lost her and that it was all my fault.
And now she’s here, standing in front of me, not as a memory, but as a living, breathing thing.
Trouble.
My breath catches, coming in short gasps, and the edges of panic claw at me. I should call my therapist, should try and breathe myself down,anything, but I can’t think straight.
I didn’t kill her.
A quiet sound breaks through the noise in my head—a soft meow. I blink, turning toward the bed, where Jinx is perched, her green eyes locked on me. She lets out another questioning chirp while hopping gracefully to the floor and padding toward me, pressing her head against my knee while purring softly.
The vibrations cut through the chaos in my chest, giving me something to focus on, something real. She rubs against me again before climbing onto my lap, where I bury my hands in her fur, clinging to her warmth and the steady rhythm of her purrs. It anchors me for a second, but then the weight of everything crashes over me again, making it hard to breathe.
Seeing Nova again, her face, her voice, it’s like ripping open a wound that has never healed in the first place. And worse, it’s tangled with an ache I can’t name, a feeling that’s too raw to even touch.
She lived on without me.
The door creaks, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look up sharply as it opens, realizing too late that I didn’t lock it properly.
Sylus steps inside, his usual cocky grin absent. Instead, his face is serious, his eyes scanning the room before landing on me. He doesn’t say anything at first, only closes the door behind him and crosses his arms, leaning against it.
“I figured you’d be up here losing your shit,” he says finally. “Tell me what’s going on.”
I don’t answer. What the hell am I supposed to say? That it’s as if my world was turned upside down? That I don’t know how to face her, let alone myself?
