“I’ll see you soon, Seren.”
He turns to leave, and I grab his hand.
This kiss feels like goodbye, too, but what a goodbye it is.
I kiss him with everything I have, with everything I am, with all the longing and frustration and hope that this isn’t actually goodbye.
It’s over too soon, and when he steps through the Veil and disappears, I miss him as soon as he goes.
I’m half-tempted to jump in after him, to keep arguing, to make him see.
There’s no reason the two of us shouldn’t do this together, too, and… and… fuck.
Callum showed up for me when he had no reason to other than the bond in his chest and the certainty it was where he needed to be. ThatIwas where he needed to be.
When I had my own shit to sort out and wouldn’t even stop long enough to give him the time of day, he was there. When I needed time to figure it out, he gave me that time.
I let out a long breath, mind racing.
Goddess, we’re bad at this.
Bad at being mates. Bad at accepting help. Bad at getting out of our own damn way.
But just like Callum stuck it out until I came around, I don’t intend on letting him run away from me, either.
At least not without one more fight. One more try.
I bide my time, hanging by the Veil for a few minutes to make sure I don’t run right into Callum when I do what I’m about to do.
The plan—like all my plans—is only half-formed, and will most definitely hinge on me calling on a few friends for favors.
But it’s always seemed to work out for me in the past, and now I’ve got more motivation than ever to figure it the hell out.
When enough time has passed, I lay my hand on the stone.
It flickers through a kaleidoscope of colors, all the different portals to all the different realms flashing in those swirling depths before landing on the one I want.
With a deep, bracing breath, I step into crimson ether.
42
Callum
One week after winning the fae queen’s bounty, I’m back outside Myron’s office.
I’ve barely slept in the last week, barely been able to remember to feed myself.
Every day without my witch feels like a limb has been cut from my body. Every day without her tastes like bitter ash and regret.
It’s my own damn fault, and with each hour that passes I’m more and more convinced I’ve fucked everything up, again.
I should have just let her come with me.
Sure, it might have killed any bit of pride I had left for her to see me deal with the mess I’ve made of my life, but at least she’d be here.
At least I wouldn’t be driven half to madness wondering what she’s doing every second of every day.
At least I wouldn’t miss her every night, rolling around in my bed for hours before I catch a few minutes of terrible sleep.
