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Olivia’s eyes snapped open. Her breaths came in sharp gasps, her lungs desperate for air. She stayed still, not daring to move. Was that her hand? Her skin was intact?
Olivia wiggled her fingers. The hand in her vision moved. Fingers. Arm. Toes. Legs.
Slowly, she turned over onto her back, a deep ache settling into her bones.
But that was it. An ache. Like sleeping in the wrong position for too long.
Not pain. Certainly not the suicide-inducing agony from her dream.
It was a dream.
With a moan, Olivia struggled up to her arms. She’d fallen from bed, waking herself. A glance at the window told her it was already dark outside. The clock read nine. How had she slept so late?
She untangled herself from the sheets, her movements slow and sluggish. Her skin was clammy, her fingers unsteady. It was another five minutes before she could stand up and carefully limped her way to the shower.
Wait. Why was she limping? She examined her right leg carefully. Nothing. But her knee protested when she put her weight on it.
She’d heard your body started falling apart in your thirties, but this was her first time experiencing it.
After her shower, she felt significantly better. She checked her phone. No word from Marek. He hadn’t even said how long he’d be gone.
What if he was gone for a week? Or two? How long had he stayed in Tucson before breaking into the Zylotech lab?
She hadn’t asked him anything about this part of his life. Perhaps because she didn’t wish to linger on the fact he killed for a living. It reminded her exactly how little she knew about him. Would he avoid her the entire time he was away?
And since when had she become the clingy type? Usually, it was the opposite. Her exes complained she didn’t text enough. Like somehow her not responding to a stupid meme within ten minutes during work hours meant she didn’t care about their feelings.
Maybe Marek was like her, and he hated texting.
Olivia forced herself to put her phone away and brewed a cup of tea before putting on some relaxing music. She didn’t want to talk to him anyway.Liar.Olivia frowned. Hopefully, Andrea would gather the ingredients for the spell to dilute the mating bond and they could cast it. Then she really wouldn’t wish to talk to Marek.
Once Betsy was awake, she could get out of here. By the time her tea was ready, Olivia was calm enough to continue translating the spell.
Until someone pounded on the door.
“Olivia? Please open up!” a woman shouted, her unfamiliar voice full of urgency.
Olivia got up and crossed to the door, curiosity warring with trepidation.
“Who is it, Tristan?” she asked the AI in a whisper.
“Leah Davis, Mr. Blackmore’s mate.”
“It’s about Marek!”
Those words spurred her to move. Olivia opened the door to a fashionable, attractive woman about her age. She wore an emerald silk blouse tucked into black trousers and black pumps. Her brunette hair may have started the day perfectly arranged around her pixie face, but now it showed distinctive signs of having fingers running through it.
Normally, Olivia would be intimidated by someone who looked so polished when she’d barely brushed her hair this morning, but the distress emanating from the woman took precedence.
“Marek. What about Marek?” Olivia asked, her tongue almost tripping over itself in a hurry.
“They’re on their way back. It’s bad.”
Olivia’s stomach dropped to the floor, her lungs seizing with terror. “Bad?”
Marek. Lying in a pool of his blood. His beautiful eyes devoid of life.That’s why he didn’t answer my text. He’s not shunning me. He’s dead!
Despair built up inside her, lightning fast like a summer thunderstorm.
