I snarled.
Why did Bennie have to be so fucking sneaky? I knew what he was doing. He was trying to manipulate me into getting up and going with him. And it was fucking working.
“He isn’t my mate anymore,” I grumbled. Finn would want nothing to do with me again. He had more self-respect than that.
Bennie sighed.
At one point, he’d pulled his nails out of my shoulders. The wounds were already healing, and I fucking missed the pain because the emptiness was just growing and growing, threatening to swallow me whole.
“Finn was your mate before you even talked to him the first time. He is your mate and always will be, no one can change that. Not you, not him. I’m not sure even fate could. Right now, he needs time. Time to figure out how to handle his emotions, time to come to terms with what you’ve done, and time to figure out what questions he has. Because knowing him, at some point, he’ll want answers. He’ll want an explanation.”
I wasn’t sure he would.
He hadn’t wanted answers in the past ninety-four hours and forty-two minutes.
“He will,” Bennie reiterated. “But he has a lot of things to work through and process first. And right now, it’s our job to make sure he’s safe, so we can respect his wishes of leaving him alone. Okay?”
“Yes,” I grumbled, hating how logical he sounded.
“Great.” Bennie came into focus, giving me a hard look. “So, go have a shower. You reek.”
“I’m a vampire. We don’t sweat.”
“Even more impressive that you’ve managed to reek. Shower. Get dressed. Then we’re off to Aries. And either you feed here, or I will talk Aries into helping me make you feed. Got it?”
God, sometimes I fucking hated Bennie.
Ninety-five hours, thirty-two minutes, and fifteen seconds after Finn had kicked me out, we entered Aries’s office.
My stomach plummeted as I remembered the last time I’d been here.
I’d really thought everything was going well. And then, merely half an hour later, everything had gone to hell. Just because Josh had to open his big mouth.
It wasn’t Josh’s fault, though. And while I’d love to place the responsibility solely on his shoulders—god knew, they were broad enough to carry the load—I knew he wasn’t to blame. Nope. I’d screwed up. I knew it. Part of me had known it before I’d even left the first damn Post-it at Finn’s door. But I hadn’t been able to refrain. That part inside me that needed to make sure Finn was okay had pushed and pushed and pushed.
It was still pushing.
Demanding that I check up on him.
To make sure he was okay. That the fledglings were staying far, far away from him.
But I was reining myself in.
“Is he, like… catatonic or something?” Aries asked.
I blinked, trying to remember how I’d gotten to the couch, let alone sat down, but my memory was blank. There was just so… much… emptiness.
“I don’t know. He’s been like that ever since he came back. It’s really… disconcerting.”
A hand appeared in front of me. Pale, slim fingers with meticulously manicured nails holding out a wineglass filled with blood.
“Drink,” Aries said. It was an order, but my stomach recoiled as the scent of cold, dead blood hit my nose.
I didn’t want a blood bag.
I wanted Finn.
“You will drink this, youngling.” Aries sighed. “You need to keep your strength up. How do you plan on keeping your mate safe while you’re starving?”
