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My stomach twisted.
Words were lost.
My Delara. The woman I couldn’t have but wanted. The only woman who could touch me without me freaking out. The woman I didn’t deserve and would destroy if we were ever together again.
I’d known the truth as soon as I entered the house, but until she said it, I’d ignored what my senses had told me.
I wasn’t the only one who looked shocked. Jedrik was pale and Hack had stopped playing with his cell, mouth gaping.
Anstice eased from Keir’s embrace and walked over to Delara. She stood next to her as if she was going to shield her from my wrath.
“Are we done?” Delara asked. “‘Cause I’m beat and need a shower.”
“Jesus Christ, Delara,” Jedrik said and moaned.
“Waleron, maybe this conversation should be done in—” Keir began, but was cut off by Hack.
“Are we talking the vampire Liam?”
Keir gave him a shut-the-fuck-up glare.
Anstice stepped closer to Delara so their shoulders touched.
Finn moaned as he flopped on the floor.
I was so pissed off that I couldn’t speak. Edan and now Liam. What was she doing? A vampire? Our enemy. If the Wraiths got hold of this, they’d force me to put her in Rest.
“Your blood?” I asked.
If she allowed Liam to drink from her, I’d have no choice but to put her in Rest, and that would be the last fragile hold to my existence.
“Of course not,” she replied, and the vise on my heart—if you could call it a heart—eased a minute amount.
I gave a curt nod.
How could I stop her from self-destructing? I saw it every time I looked into her eyes, the pain, and the hurt. If I could, I’d stay away from her, but that was impossible for more reasons than her being a Scar.
I had to get the fuck out of here before I did or said anything I’d regret. “End it.” I shifted my gaze to Anstice. “Let’s go.”
Anstice squeezed Delara’s hand and walked to the bottom of the stairs, grabbed her purse, and lifted it onto her shoulder. Keir followed her, whispering something.
Jedrik said nothing as he got up, brushed past Delara, and went downstairs to the Tomb where his bedroom was located. Hack went back to playing whatever game on his cell and made his way back upstairs to the attic.
Delara remained where she was, frozen, watching me with her exotic eyes. Scared? Damn right she was. But not that I’d hurt her. I’d already done that, but I was betting she was scared of what was becoming of herself.
I couldn’t stop it.
Because the only way was to send her away.
And I couldn’t do that.
No, I wouldn’t. I had an oath to protect her and I’d never break it. I needed her here. With me.
“I’m sorry,” Delara said and I knew she was sincere by the way her teeth chewed her lower lip. She’d always done that.
“You have to stop.” I knew what she was doing, and it would only make it worse. I’d self-destructed eons ago, now I merely existed within the numbness.
I turned and took two, then three strides before hearing words that sent a sharp, jagged spear through the top of my head to my feet, nailing me to the floor.
