Page 182 of Huntress

“Anyone else?” she asked hoarsely, intentionally taking long, slow breaths, barely holding herself together.

“Obviously me,” Morgan said.

She’d expected it, but the emotional blow was physical. He was her oldest friend. Perrie stared at Morgan, then lowered her head, not ready to speak a decision out loud. The witch was still torn, but Elsie didn’t dare to hope she’d stay. Not when Morgan was leaving.

“I go wherever Trenton goes.” Marley didn’t hesitate. “But you already knew that. Honestly? I’m relieved it’s over. I’m surprised it took this long to get to this point.”

“I warned you,” Trisse says evenly, leaning forward to steeple his fingers between his knees. “I told you that if you fuck this up, I’m gone. Clearly my continued presence wasn’t important enough for you to care.”

“I need time to think about it, but I’m probably leaving too, sorry Captain. After everything we’ve been through together, I thought this squad was it for me. My forever home, and my family, but look at us now…you’ve torn our family apart.” Steve shook his head, defeated. Banks pressed his lips together, and he joined them.

A tang hit the back of Elsie’s throat, and her jaw ached with the need to vomit. Almost her entire squad was gone in a single conversation, and there was no certainty that Perrie or Grady would stay. To be honest, she hoped they wouldn’t.

She’d never be able to put together another squad as solid as this one. Maybe this was the incentive she needed to take Saint’s hand and run. Ravens and her father be damned.

“If there’s nothing else productive anyone needs to say, this meeting is over,” Trenton declared.

“Hey, Elsie, you’re going to write our letters of recommendation, right?” Marley demanded. “With what we’re doing to protect you even now, you owe us at least that much.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Elsie’s voice cracked.

“If there are any missions before I’m transferred, don’t call on me.” The healer marched out, Trenton following behind her.

The others gave her long, measured looks before leaving in their own time until only Perrie, Elsie, and Saint remained. The witch’s eyes welled with tears.

“My coven would be ashamed of the things I’ve done since joining the hunters,” she said tremulously. “I can’t go back to them with this stain on my soul. They’d never understand, just like Morgan and the others don’t understand why we don’t hate demons as much as they do. We weren’t raised in the same culture they were. I’ve always thought of you as the younger sister I never had, you know?”

“I know,” Elsie sniffed.

Perrie rushed forward and gave her a breath-stealing hug. “I need to stay with the hunters, at least until I find my mate. It’s way past time that I do. I can’t stay with you, Elsie. Your field ranking and reputation are going to tank, and the only men I’ll get the chance to meet will be at the bottom of the barrel.”

Elsie huffed out a humorless laugh. Typical Perrie, always thinking of her unmated status, even at a time like this.

“It’s okay, Pear. Good luck.”

Perrie held her at arm's length, and Elsie saw a flash of something in the witch’s eye that gave her the sinking feeling that her whole act was performative. The tears and caring words didn’t match Perrie’s eyes, which looked more annoyed than sad.

“You, too. You’re going to need it.”

“Thanks.”

Perrie turned on her heels and flounced out the door, strawberry curls bouncing as she went. That was the last of them; even Grady, who’d lingered as though waiting for a chance to speak with her, had gone.

Elsie’s knees buckled, and Saint caught her before she hit the ground. She clung to his arms, holding herself up against the crushing weight of grief dragging her to the floor.

“I can’t–” she gasped, tears swimming in her eyes and blurring the world in front of her.

“Mistress,” Saint murmured, but listening to his sympathy was too painful.

“I can’t breathe.” Clawing at her throat, she pushed herself away from Saint, rushing outside to get some air. Shoving the heavy double doors open, she heaved in great, gasping breaths, but it wasn’t enough. Her lungs weren’t satisfied, as if she couldn’t fill them up.

“You’re hyperventilating. I need you to take long, slow breaths,” Saint tried to guide her, but she stumbled away and out into the woods.

Her whole body shook, flashing from hot to cold by turn and she. Couldn’t. Breathe.

“They left me,” she sobbed.

She collapsed to the ground, rocking back and forth, dragging in oxygen until her lungs were full to bursting, but it still felt like she was drowning. Her vision darkened until all she saw was a pinprick of light at the end of a long tunnel. Saint scooped her up, pulling her into his lap.