Page 41 of Dark Sold Mate

Violated.

And Elle had done nothing.

“I need air,” she choked out.

She walked past Silas and ran out, hardly reaching the parking lot when she fell to her knees and threw up, her entire body trembling.

Silas showed up next to her, drawing her hair back, whispering something Elle could not hear with all the roaring in her ears.

By the time the nausea eventually calmed, Elle sat back upon her heels with tears streaming down her face.

“What did you see?” Silas asked gently.

Elle shook her head. She couldn't tell him. She could not explain the vision without confessing the power. The same power which had never presented itself to any advantage until it was already too late to save anyone.

“Elle, talk to me. What happened in there?”

“Nothing,” Elle whispered. “I just... I remembered. That's all.”

It wasn't entirely a lie. She had recalled the women at the auction. She remembered their fear. But she had also witnessed what became of at least one of them afterward, and her conscience was crushing her.

If she had been willing to help sooner, would they have been able to get here in time?

If she had swallowed her pride a little sooner, her anger and her trauma, would she have prevented what she had just seen in her vision?

“When Javi first suggested this, I should have said yes on the spot.”

“No,” Silas said firmly. “Don't do that. Don't put this on yourself.”

“But if we'd gotten here sooner—”

“We still would have been too late. The auction had taken place days before. These people move fast.”

Elle knew that he was trying to console her, but it was in vain. She'd seen what happened. She had experienced the terror of that woman as if it were hers.

But she'd been too focused on her own pain to help sooner.

She had been willing to help, but that was not enough. Nothing that she did could ever be enough.

Chapter 11 - Silas

“She needs water.”

Silas did not pay attention to Rael's words as he led Elle back to the truck with his hand resting on her back. She was trembling so much that he could feel it against his palm, and her breath was coming out in short gasps.

But Elle, being Elle, did not stop talking.

“The back room,” she said, in a strained and thin voice. “There was a back room. Small. That's where they took her. A brunette who fought.” Her words tumbled after one another. “The buyer was a bear shifter. On his right hand, between the thumb and forefinger, he had a scar shaped like a crescent moon.”

Silas opened the door leading to the truck and helped Elle to get in. She was clinging to the edge of the seat, her knuckles were white, and she was still talking. Like if she stopped, the memories would eat her up.

“One of the men who picked me up from the street had a scar on his face. He was the same man who took her to the back room.”

“Elle, I'm so sorry about what happened. And I honestly wish you could understand this clearly. You're not at fault. So, breathe.”

August appeared behind Silas. They were all out of the warehouse at this point. “She's going into shock.”

“I know.” Silas agreed painfully. He would have liked to take Elle in his arms and console her, but he also understood that she was holding on by a thread and any unexpected action could tear her into pieces. “Elle, we're going home now. You can say more when we are there, all right?”