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I push myself off him, rocking back on my heels. He wiggles out from under me, calling my name as my vision blurs further. The sawing of my lungs sounds distorted in my ears, too close and too loud.

There’s quiet anxiety in Bellamy’s voice as it’s joined by another, more feminine one. I dig my fingers into my thigh, trying to ground myself and shake off this sensation, but it’s no use.

You have something I want.

A trapdoor in my mind swings open, a nauseating wave of terror welling up inside me as the disembodied voice invades the crevices of my mind. I can still see Bellamy, but it’s like looking through a misted window. Delphine is clearer, but so is something else.

Something black and distorted, the illusion of eyes given from the absence of shadow.

My limbs feel full of lead when I try to move. Even my lungs won’t fill, no matter how hard I try to drag air into them. I fall to the floor, barely registering the impact when my body collides with the floor.

Bellamy’s and Delphine’s voices sound sunken, as if underwater. I can see them, can see Bellamy waving his hand in front of my face, can feel his palm slapping my cheek as he stands over me. I can’t feel the heat of it though.

I feel cold.

So fucking cold.

Poor little human. Fate is a fickle creature, is he not?

The shadowy being undulates, breaking apart and reforming, coalescing in pieces around Bellamy’s wrist. I force a noise through my teeth, begging for him to hear it, for him to move away from me and this awful creature somehow tethered to me.

I don’t know if he hears me, or if it’s Delphine’s forceful grip that peels him away until he staggers back a few steps.

He will be mine. Debt is owed.

Bellamy? Is it talking about Bellamy?

I try to scream, but it lodges in my throat, choking me.

The creature recoils from its surroundings. I feel its disgust, feel it slam back into my body so hard my bones shake in their meaty cage.

The world wavers once more, and through my blinking the shape of Bellamy’s splayed-out palms comes clearer.

“I don’t like this, Bellamy. Not one bit,” Delphine mutters, crossing her arms over her chest. My eyes follow her for a second before Bellamy’s face swims into my line of vision.

“Bels…” I wheeze, forcing air back into my lungs and grabbing onto the couch to pull myself up.

I try to stand, only to be pushed back down by his warm hands. “Sunday, no. You’re shaking.” The edge of concern in his voice is palpable as he starts rubbing some warmth back into me.

I need to tell him.

I need to tell him everything.

“I—I think I fucked up. I think I fucked up real bad.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Bellamy

“What do you mean?” The words come out sharp, my nervous system going haywire. As if the sudden influx of horny hormones wasn’t enough, the unsettling energy leaking out of Sunday is adding to my discomfort, setting me on the verge of overstimulation.

Sunday gives me a look similar to a child who’s been caught stealing candy.

Guilt.

It makes my stomach sink and my head go to all the worst places. I knew I shouldn’t have let him in. I knew I shouldn’t have let my walls down.

This is the part where he says he made a mistake, that he’s led me on, that he doesn’t want anything to do with me now that he’s had a taste again.