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Larissa looked at me apologetically before Miles pushed her through the front door with his hand on her shoulder and closed it behind them.

If my heart had ever been in a holder, it was now threatening to slip out, hanging by a thread. And Erik? He held the scissors in his hand that would seal the fate of this miserable heart.

Silence lay in the house. Only the faint voices from outside, disappearing into the distance, hung in the air.

Apologize

Timbaland, OneRepublik

Quentin's eyes glinted.

I was at his mercy. Powerless.

Ashamed, I looked down at the floor and cursed myself for making the mistake of coming here, for making the mistake of letting the girls in on it.

All of this was my fault.

It should never have come to this.

Quentin started moving, striding across the room.

I looked up.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, took a big sip, and stared into the cold fireplace.

“How long have you known?”

He sounded calm. Collected. Only his glassy eyes indicated otherwise.

With trembling hands, he placed the glass on the edge of the fireplace's mantelpiece, and the expression on his face compelled me to answer him.

“Since the winter ball.”

His gaze drifted into the void.

“Since the...”

He ran both hands through his hair and began pacing back and forth, faster and faster...

“Since the damn winter ball...”

He looked at me with anguish, and it tugged at my heartstrings.

I had never seen him like this before. Without that protective wall of steel.

“Was this some sick plan of the Councils? Do they know about me?” He stepped toward me and my inner tension grew. “Did they send you to destroy me emotionally?” He sounded desperate, coming even closer. “Who sent you?” Suddenly, he was standing in front of me, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me. “Tell me!”

“I'm real, Quentin,” I managed to say in a shaky voice, another tear fighting its way to the surface. “No one sent me.”

Quentin watched the tear run down my cheek as if it were his downfall.

He shook his head slowly, then more hastily, his eyes becoming increasingly glassy, more tears welling up in my own until they could no longer hold the water.

It was as if a hint of madness flickered through his eyes. Then, in the next split second, the sparkle died.

Suddenly, his gaze darkened, and his strong hands let go of me.

“You're lying...”