There’s no turning back now.
I’m going in.
Blair
I still haven’t showered. I still haven’t changed my clothes. I haven’t done anything but pace this room that Damien has locked me inside without any destination but outright panic in mind.
I fucked up. I know I fucked up.
I should’ve never left the cabin.
I should’ve listened to Kane.
I should’ve believed him.
I know that now with absolute certainty.But what good does it do me now, huh?
Tears prick my eyes, and I walk into the bathroom to look at my reflection in the mirror. I’m a mess in every sense of the word. My hair is a tangled mess down my shoulders. My eyes are bloodshot red from my crying jags. And the only makeup on my face is dried mud from the creek bed I fell in.
My mother would be horrified.
I lift the hem of Kane’s muddied white T-shirt and bury my face into the material, drowning all of my senses in the faint scent of him. More tears spill from my lids, and my entire body aches with the realization that I’ll probably never see him again.
I’ll never get to feel his lips on mine or his arms wrapped around me.
I’ll never get to look into his green eyes and watch them shift violet in the light.
I’ll never get to tell him that I love him. That I’m done fighting whatever this is between us. That I’m his.
And God, what a devastating realization that is.
Tears flow down my cheeks and into his shirt, and I just let them because I can’t control them. Because I can’t control the surge of emotion I feel at the mere idea of never seeing him again.
I step out of the bathroom, dragging in a shaky breath. When I peer inside the closet near the fireplace, desperate to keep moving with the sole purpose of survival, that’s when I see it—my suitcase. The one I packed in preparation for my big, fancy, hope-filled trip to New York.
God, that feels like a million years ago.
I was a different girl back then. A completely different Blair.
I don’t know why Damien has it, but it doesn’t matter. I can only think of one thing. I drop to my knees and yank it open. My hands move frantically, rooting through clothes, shoes, makeup—none of it registers—until I find my doll.
My vampire with the green-violet eyes and pale hair and Kane’s perfect smile.
A broken sound escapes me as I clutch it to my chest, squeezing my eyes shut while tears spill down my cheeks. I glance back into the suitcase—at all the expensive things I used to think I needed.
None of them are priorities anymore.
I just need Kane.
But I’ve ruined any chance of that ever happening again.
Kane
Cal laid out a plan that feels as if it will create the least amount of disruption and attention. At least, I fucking hope that’s the case. At this point, he’s the only logical one out of the two of us. I’m hanging by a thread with my fated mate locked in some fucking bloodthirsty lunatic’s penthouse.
I swear on everything, if he fucking touches her, I will murder him.
“Relax,” Cal whispers. “You gotta rein it in, brother. Save the rage for when we’re in his place.”
