I stare at him, not understanding. “She’ll never agree to that.”
“She doesn’t have a choice. We need you close, under supervision. And your apartment isn’t secure; the organization may have it under surveillance.” He turns back to me. “Anne’s building has pack security. It’s the logical choice.”
“But she won’t forgive me,” I say, my voice breaking.
“That’s your problem to solve, not mine.” His expression hardens. “The only reason I’m allowing this is because my mate is urging me to give you a chance to make things right. Violet believes Anne deserves that closure, even if it is painful.”
He walks back to the desk and leans forward with both hands braced against it.
“But understand this: I don’t trust you. I’ll have guards watching Anne’s building twenty-four seven. If you try anything—if you so much as upset her more than you already have—I will execute you myself. Clear?”
I nod.
“Good.” He straightens. “You’ll be escorted to her place tonight. What happens after that is between you and her.”
The thought of facing Anne, of seeing the hurt I’ve caused reflected in her eyes, makes me want to beg Darius to kill me now and be done with it.
But I owe her more than that. I owe her the truth, even if it destroys me. Even if she never forgives me. Even if all I get is one chance to tell her that what we had was real.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
Darius’s laugh is harsh. “Don’t thank me. All I’ve done is give you enough rope to either redeem or hang yourself with.”
He’s right.
And I have no idea which it’s going to be.
Chapter Twenty
Anne
The apartment is dark.
I haven’t opened the curtains in days. Haven’t turned on the lights. The darkness feels appropriate somehow, like the physical world is finally matching the void inside me.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table for what must be the hundredth time. I don’t look at it. Don’t need to. I know it’s Violet, or Sienna, or maybe both of them on a group call trying to check on me.
It took four days after I fainted before Violet finally let me be alone.
Since I got home, the couch has become my entire world. I’ve moved from it for only a few reasons in these past forty-eight hours—to use the bathroom, to get water when my throat became too dry to swallow, and once to stand at the window and stare out at nothing until my legs gave out and I had to sit back down.
Food sits untouched on the kitchen counter—some meal Sienna dropped off yesterday morning before I stoppedanswering the door. I can smell it from here. It has gone bad and is making my stomach turn.
I can’t remember the last time I showered. Can’t remember if I brushed my teeth this morning or if that was yesterday. Time has lost meaning, bleeding into one endless stretch of gray.
The worst part is the silence.
Not the quiet of the apartment, though that’s oppressive enough, but the silence in my head where Kain’s voice used to be. Where his laughter used to echo. Where memories of him used to live.
Now, there’s…nothing. A hollow space where something vital used to exist.
My phone buzzes again. I watch it vibrate across the coffee table, the screen lighting up with Violet’s name and photo. Her smiling face, so trusting, so kind.
A knock sounds on the door at the same time, and I sigh. This is probably Violet, too, trying a two-pronged approach. I bet Sienna told her that the only way to get me to talk is to show up at my door. That’s what she did yesterday.
The knock comes again, more insistent now.
A defeated sigh leaves my lips as I drag my feet across the room and open the door.
