“You are! All of you are. You’re treating me like I’m made of glass.”
Ah, but you are glass. And glass shatters.
I twitch again, snapping my gaze to her. “What did you say?”
Ivy shakes her head. “Nothing. I didn’t—”
“You think I’m weak?”
“Toby, no. I didn’t—”
Ice floods my veins, and my attention darts from one person to the next. They’re all watching me. Every last one of them. “You all think that, don’t you? That I’m weak.”
“Toby!” Ivy tries.
“Just shut up.”
I get up, ignoring the shocked looks coming from Neal and Evan. My stomach is in knots, and my skin burns. The mark on my shoulder seems to throb, red light glowing through the sleeve like a warning.
LikeI’mthe thing that needs the warning.
I will hurt them.
People seem to give me a wide berth as I head to the stairs. Red stops me, holding another tonic. His usually soft eyes are wary and tired, but he still has that hopeful expression he always does. I swear the man is a poster child for optimism.
It makes me sick.
He holds the amber bottle up to me, but I cut him off.
“Don’t.”
He tries anyway. “I thought it might help with—”
“You’re going to have to shove it down my throat if you want me to take it, Red. I’m sick of your tonics.”
The words come out like a snarl, yet they feel all wrong too. So wrong. Like shards of glass slicing me open from the inside.He deserves it.
“Leave mealone,”I say, loud enough that everyone can hear. “You’re all watching me like I’m going to explode or something.” The air buzzes against my skin. Every sound scrapes raw. The heartbeat I hear isn’t mine. “Stop looking at me! Stopthinkingabout me! Stop being so goddamn loud!”
I climb the stairs, hand tight on the rail. The walls seem to move inward, inch by inch, becoming closer. Rowen’s scent hits me halfway up, stopping me in my tracks. I inhale deeply—cinnamon and pine. The scent of Christmas. Normally, it centers me. But now it’s too much. The scent presses down on me, thick and cloying. I want to drown in it. I want to tear it off me. I can’t tell the difference anymore.
For a flicker, barely a breath, I think I can hear him again.You can fight this, Toby.But the voice sputters out before it reaches me, swallowed whole by the burn under my skin.
My instinct is to run. To leave. To destroy anyone who stops me.
Rowen is outside somewhere. I can sense him through our connection. For a heartbeat, I want to go to him—not so he can hold me and tell me everything is okay, but so I can rake my nails down his chest. Draw his blood and make him feel the pain I’m feeling. He needs to suffer just like I do.
He is not my anchor. He’s my leash.
“Tobias?”
I startle at Taren’s voice. She’s at the top of the stairs, holding Aster.
“You okay?”
I grit my teeth. “Gods! Would everyone stop asking me that!”
I climb the rest of the stairs and throw open the door to my room—my room, not his. I can’t let thoughts of Rowen smother me right now. I need space.
