“Storm?” Sean’s voice follows me. He sounds confused and hurt. “Wait…”
“I’m sorry,” I choke out without stopping, because I can’t.
The world around me is too open, too vast, and I feel exposed, the invisible tendrils of my magic and frayed bonds whipping around me like severed wires.
I push through the back door and into the cool darkness of Villeneuve’s house, and I don’t stop walking until I can’t hear anything but my own ragged breathing echoing off the ancient walls.
Chapter
Twenty-One
REGINA
I’m sitting on the floor of Villeneuve’s library, surrounded by books I’m not reading, because apparently that’s what I do now. Not that it’s gotten me any closer to the cure to Killian’s virus.
My phone is in my hand. No new messages. The bond is a mess of distant, muffled emotions I can’t even begin to untangle.
Micah reached out about two hours ago. A brief pulse through our connection that saidhe’s okay, we found him, just give us time.
I close my eyes and lean my head back against the bookshelf. The leather spines press into my skull, uncomfortable but grounding.
Villeneuve hasn’t come to find me either. I don’t know if he’s giving me space, or just doesn’t know what to say. Maybe both.
The worst part is that I’m not even angry at him. I should be. He dropped that bomb without warning, without giving me any chance to prepare. But he did it to protect me from Knox. Did it because in that moment, it was the only card he had left to play.
I’m angry atmyself.
I should have told them. Weeks ago, when I first figured out what Villeneuve had done during the ritual. I should have sat them down and explained, should have trusted them enough to handle it.
Instead, I kept it a secret because I didn’t want everything blowing up in our faces before we found a cure. So much for that.
The bond shifts.
I feel it before I consciously register what’s changed. That one thread that connects me to Killian, the one that’s been stretched thin and distant for hours, suddenly flares stronger.Closer.
He’s back.
I’m on my feet before I finish the thought, books scattering as I move. My legs carry me through the hallway, past the window overlooking the garden where the remnants of our once peaceful afternoon still linger, out through the back door and into the cooling evening air.
The garden is a fucking mess. Trampled roses and the aftermath of a fight that shouldn’t have happened. I don’t stop to look at it. I’m following the bond now, letting it pull me like a compass needle.
The roof.
Of course he’s on the roof.
There’s a trellis on the east side of the mansion that I’ve seen Sean use for absolutely no fucking reason other than that he likes to do things the hard way. It looks sturdy enough. I grab the wooden slats and start climbing.
The ascent is harder than I expected. My arms are shaking by the time I pull myself over the edge of the roof. Definitely need to work on my upper body strength. Add it to the list of things I’ll deal with later.
A strong hand reaches out to grab my arm and pull me up the rest of the way.
Killian. He’s human again, dressed in clothes that must have been stashed up here at some point.
“You’re going to get hurt,” he mutters, letting go once I’m steady on my knees.
“I was never really a tree climber,” I admit. “More of a bookworm.”
He snorts, moving back to make room.
