Page 61 of Sorrow & Strangers

“I didn’t rub against him,” I whisper-yell at her in outrage.

Alice lifts an eyebrow. “Then what did you do?”

“He rubbed against me,” I say primly.

“And you what? Just stood there?”

“I was . . .” Why are we even talking about this? “Pressed against the wall.”

“And you definitely hated that.” Alice smirks knowingly. Her nostrils flare a little as she sniffs, no doubt scenting my stupid, traitorous pheromones.

“I did,” I say, bristling. Just because my body reacted doesn’t mean I enjoyed it.

She scoffs. “Obviously.”

“I did,” I say again. “I hated it.”

Alice rolls her eyes. “This is a no-judgment zone, Sum.”

“It’s never happening again,” I grumble, unsure who I’m trying to convince.

“Why not?”

Why not? Because . . . He . . . I . . . Fuck.

“I should sleep,” I say instead, ending the conversation and praying to the gods that Alice doesn’t keep pushing.

Alice yawns loudly. “Me too.”

I curl into Rafe’s side, once again enjoying the silence. I close my eyes and allow my mind to wander. There is a clarity I didn’t have before I had my moment with Connor. The veil has been lifted on what used to look murky and unclear, and while I have decided to be alone for the rest of my life, at least I can see myself living.

My thoughts about the stranger are not nearly as clear. Why couldn’t I come up with reasons it shouldn’t happen again with him? He threatened me, my relationship with Connor, and he stalks me. There is no doubt that he’s dangerous, and maybe even evil. He has left me many times in the past, and perhaps most unforgivably, he wasn’t there when I needed him most. And the most terrifying thing about all of it is that I needed him.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Summer

Iopen my eyes to find that I’m once again in the bedroom that looks just enough like mine but isn’t. This isn’t like when I was in Connor’s room. This is like the dreams with the stranger, and my stomach twists. I’m so fucking tired.

“No. Not tonight,” I warn, knowing he is somewhere, waiting, watching. But there is no reply, and the silence is deafening.

I am alone. Truly alone. Relief spears through me, and I collapse back on the bed. The emotional upheaval of the last twenty-four hours has obliterated me. The tears start, and I curl into a ball, just letting myself feel it all—saying goodbye to Connor, Rafe’s sacrifice, Max, and the stranger.

A soft humming from outside filters into the dream. I sit up in bed and wipe away my tears, still sniffling. The humming ebbs and flows, and I frown as I climb out of bed. I walk to the window where the stranger stood and I look out at a forest that is so familiar to me, yet also completely foreign at the same time.

“Summer . . .” a voice calls to me from within the shadows of the trees, and again, the voice sounds so strangely familiar, but it also sends a chill through my bones.

“Summer . . .” The haunting voice calls again, and I squint my eyes, trying to penetrate the black of the night. The moonlight casts a silvery hue just to the edge of the trees, but no farther.

From the shadows, a shape forms, a woman wearing a pale blue dress that falls to mid-calf. Her bare feet are muddy, and her long brown hair is slightly tangled. Despite her unkempt appearance, her beauty is still apparent, but that’s not what I find so striking about her. It’s her eyes, the same pale blue as mine, shining in the moonlight, that I can’t look away from.

She lifts her hand and gestures for me to come to her, and I want to go to her. I want to know more about her. Lifting my hand, I almost reach out to her, but when my hand brushes against the glass pane, my vision blurs, and the dream shatters around me, everything turning black.

I surge awake, my chest heaving as I gulp down air. Disoriented, I look around, but when my gaze lands on Rafe, reality slams back into me. The dream fades to nothing as my eyes trail over him, checking on him.

Rafe groans and shifts slightly. It’s the first time I have seen him actually move since we settled him into bed, and he seems uncomfortable. He must be in pain. I pull the sheet back and check his runes and notice that the healing one needs to be topped off.

“I’m here, Rafey,” I say, grabbing the dagger from the bedside table. Not wanting to cut him, I manage to find some blood on his skin. I don’t want to cause him any more pain when he is already hurting so much.