“Because you’re the only one she’ll trust when the truth comes for her.”He steps closer.“And it’s coming, Mateo.Sooner than you think.”
The wind shifts.Ghostly figures flicker behind him—small, soft wisps rising from the graves, drawn to him like moths to flame.Noah’s shoulders collapse inward.
“They never left me,” he whispers.“The women I killed.The ones I couldn’t save.The ones who begged.”More figures join the first.Soft, feminine, and broken.“I thought I was setting them free and sparing them from a horrible fate, but now I know I was wrong.”
I don’t see them clearly.But I feel them.Overwhelming pressure in the air.A mixture of sorrow and rage coats the very air around us.
Noah gives a small, shattered laugh.“I used to think they wanted revenge.”His voice softens.“But they just wanted someone to follow.”
His eyes turn feral.“You understand now, don’t you?”he whispers.“Why she should never have bonded.Why you’re going to lose her.”
My fangs push down.“Last chance,” I growl.“Stop talking.”
He steps so close I feel his breath across my skin.“Kill me,” he whispers.“Before they tear me apart.”
There’s no rage left in him now.Only relief.He needs death.Welcomes it.Begs for it.The ghosts surge around us, brushing my skin with icy fingers.The air vibrates with a collective, tormented cry.
Noah closes his eyes.“For her sake,” he breathes.“End this.”
I move.Fast, clean, and merciful.His body slumps into me before falling to the ground.The ghosts wail, shaking the leaves from the trees, and then dissolve into the night.
Noah exhales one final breath.And with it, his final whisper.“You can’t protect her ...from what she is.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Harlow
The New Normal
Iwake from my latestslumber with a start, my heart pounding as fitful images I can’t make sense of fly through my mind.They’re not clear, and they’re eerily soundless, but somehow Iknowthese images are connected to Mateo.
My eyes dart around the room that’s already become so familiar.It’s still dark.The laptop is still resting—closed—on the simple wood desk against the far wall, and no movement stirs near the deeper darkness of the closet.He’s not here.Of course, he isn’t.
He went with Aziel and whoever else was rallied to ‘take Noah off the board.’
I scoot up in the bed until my back is pressed to the carved headboard and pull my knees to my chest.Now that I’m awake, emotions are flooding me that make no sense for my situation.And I remember thinking I could feel Mateo in my soul earlier, so I tell myself not to worry.I’ve gained a new brand of crazy for wanting to believe these unpleasant feelings are his.I could feel him in a way I’ve never felt anything before—his relief, his happiness, even his reluctance.
