A choice I will never be able to undo.
The panic that should have driven me from the altar, away from those damn garlands of white orchids and out of the chapel, blooms too late. A terrible certainty settles over me. Some mistakes don’t end. They bind. They repeat. They follow you into every version of forever.
He moves inside me, my dream-husband. His cock is thick and deep, but his voice echoes deeper still. “Tell me to stop, Max. Because I will destroy everything that keeps me from you.I will break the world, little fox. Every fucking piece.”
I try to pull away, but I can’t.
“Trust me. Don’t fight it,” he breathes.
The bed softens beneath me—then gives. Sheets slip through my fingers, dissolving as if they were never there, and my husband…lets me go.
“The only way for us to be happy is for you to die, flame of my heart,” he says, sounding more sad than angry—more defeated than remorseful.
Black water swallows me, and the golden light above me fractures, dissolving into a vast abyss of black. An endless weight drags me under, pulling at my calves and clawing down my legs. Down, down, down.
My limbs grow heavy. The surface of a silvery sea ripples overhead, out of reach.
I thrash, unable to swim, unable to stop my descent.
Until the rush of water at my temples fades, and my heart gives one last, horrible boom.
I wake with a violent gasp, my heart hammering. The echo of his dark promise pulses through my veins.I will break the world, little fox. Every fucking piece.
Lachlan’s arm is slung across my waist, holding me close. Sunlight peeks through the curtains as I carefully extricatemyself from his embrace and tiptoe out of the room, my skin still humming with that eerie, endless pressure.
A sinking feeling follows me into the kitchen. The house is quiet and cold, much colder than it was yesterday.
“E?” I call to the empty room.
No answer.
I click on the stove and fill the kettle.
The last few days, my ghost was the only thing keeping the silence from swallowing me whole. I shouldn’t feel this way about him—whoever he is—but the thought of him vanishing during the night turns my stomach. He warned me this might happen. Told me he needed me close, that distance might cast him back to the void. And I still abandoned him.
Maybe I deserve to spend the next few weeks trapped in this house alone. The prickly aura of a budding panic attack ices my blood as I drink my morning tea. Without the Angelica, the taste is strange and unfamiliar, almost too sweet.
E is gone…
I reach for his lantern on the kitchen island, but just as I’m about to touch it, a deep whisper caresses my ear.
“You let him stay,” he growls. “I can’t believe you let him stay.”
A gust of heat blares into the room, like sunlight breaking through clouds, and I let out a breath of relief, shivering at the sudden change in temperature.
“Good morning, boo.”
I’m both terrified and thrilled—and terrified of that thrill. He was only sulking, and a smile threatens to show on my face.
“I might have vanished forever,” he adds darkly. “Is that what you wanted?”
Now that I know he hasn’t vanished, my annoyance with his behavior from last night comes back full force, and my eyes fly to the ceiling.
“It’s your own damn fault. Your prank cost me precious time, and I couldn’t send Lachlan home after sundown,” I say.
“Did you want to send him home?” he asks quietly, as though the possibility hadn’t crossed his mind.
“Yes! Do you think I wanted to deal with this invisible cousin situation?”
