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The hours drag on, making my limbs ache with restlessness. They long for something, anything, to do. Pacing the hardwood floors of my temporary living arrangement does nothing to abate the feeling, but the thought of going out is exhausting. Not to mention, dangerous.
What if monsters find me?
What if I’m caught and all of this was for nothing?
I can’t just call my men and have them come running to my rescue. I have no way to contact them, which only makes the distance even more unbearable. The crushing weight of longing sits on my chest, always present, never wavering. I’m homesick, despite the familiarity of earth.
This isn’t my home–I don’t belong here–but I’m stuck until the Malevs can be controlled. Until they can be destroyed.
Even though I know it’s not the case, it feels like I’ve been abandoned. Left unwanted. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to live like this without losing the entirety of my mind.
I’ve never felt so alone, and the solitude is suffocating.
ChapterNineteen
DEVYN
Days bleed into weeks, and it’s not long before I lose track of how long I’ve been here. It’s not like I have any reason to keep up with it. What do I possibly have to look forward to?
Nothing.
Nothing but an uninterrupted stretch of time that will end when Elio and Azarius come back for me.If they come back at all.
I’ve tried to hang onto Azarius’ promises, tried to be confident in their impending victory in this interspecies war, but my assurance wanes as the days drag on. The nonstop back and forth in my mind has me more confused, more uncertain than ever. My doubts grow by the hour, reaching into the deepest parts of me, bleeding into my bones.
I’m not sure what I think or believe anymore, but I know staying alone in the apartment isn’t going to help anything. The isolation only makes everything worse.
After ordering delivery every day for what feels like forever, I finally convince myself that leaving the apartment is necessary for my mental health. A short walk and some fresh air will make a world of difference, but first, I need a shower that I don’t have the energy for. Then, I have to get dressed, which I also don’t have the energy for.
Somehow, I manage.
I wash my matted blonde hair and force a brush through the worst tangles before tying it into a messy bun on top of my head. I shave for the first time in ages and moisturize my ashy skin, which perks up my spirits a little. I even put on makeup, painting my lips red and lining my eyes with my blackest liner. When I’m dressed, I finally feel like a human again rather than a purposeless blob huddled beneath a blanket on the couch.
With a purse thrown over my shoulder and phone in hand, I take a deep breath and head for the door. I have no idea what I’m doing or where I’m going, but I hope I figure it out along the way. If not, I plan to aimlessly wander the streets of Atlanta until something piques my interest.
I’m aware that this could go horribly wrong, but I fight to stay optimistic.
My mind is whirling, my heartbeat speeding up as panic begins to creep up my spine, and I find myself at the curb waiting for my Uber driver without realizing how I got there. My thoughts are a mess, and I have to check my app five times before it sinks in that I ordered the ride and it’s on the way.
Calm down, Devyn. You’re going to freak out the driver.
Memories from my brief time at my last job come rushing back. All the strange and wonderful conversations I had with my passengers. The not-so-good ones don’t stick out nearly as much, but there were a few I truly worried about when I dropped them off.
Will this driver think I’ve lost my mind?
Or will I manage to ride in silence to my destination, which is a random strip mall I chose after scouring the internet for way too long. Leg one of my journey is to get me away from the apartment. Then, I’ll worry about finding something definite to do.
Maybe.
I chew my bottom lip nervously and bounce on the balls of my feet until a blue SUV rolls up to the curb and the passenger window rolls down. The man driving has caramel-colored skin and perfectly combed black hair.
“Oscar?” I ask, meeting his gaze.
He nods. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry I’m a little late–I kept putting in the wrong code at the gate.”
Bless him.
“It’s fine. I’m not in a hurry,” I assure him and climb into the backseat, which smells richly of pine.
