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He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. “I’m sorry for interrupting. I’ll see you around campus,” he said, and then he was gone. Van tugged him quickly to the door. He held his hand to the stone, and it slid soundlessly away.
Van gave me one last look before he pulled Chris into the hallway beyond.
As soon as the stone slid back into place, I gasped as if there wasn’t enough air in the room to breathe. The pain in my chest grew until I crumpled on the bed, sobbing.
I’d thought I’d cried everything out in my mother’s chambers, but I hadn’t.
I thought I’d felt all the heartbreak I could, but that wasn’t true at all.
I knew for a fact that the other half of my soul was now gone—forever. And maybe in a hundred years, the pain would dim enough for me to be thankful that he was safe and happy, but all I felt was dead. All I felt was empty. All I felt was the last bit of love and hope in my life melt away.
The magic I’d used to control Chris’ mind had wiped out the little bit of energy I had in me. After not sleeping or eating for three weeks while trying to find out what Eli had done with Chris, and the aftereffects of being poisoned, and now all of the layers of emotional turmoil and heartbreak…I was done. I had nothing left.
Nothing left.
I wanted to go back to Colorado. I didn’t have it in me to pretend that Asheral was husband-worthy. I didn’t want to visit any other courts to find someone that didn’t exist anywhere, or with anyone but Chris. I didn’t want to do anything but cry and eat cake for the rest of the fortnight.
And when my mother dragged me to the altar, I would say the hollow words, because I had no fight left in me. Doing this—controlling Chris and wiping all evidence of the love we shared from his mind—killed what little fight I had left.
And now I was done.
So beyond done.
When Van came back, I’d tell him to take me to Colorado. He could meet with my mother separately and decide on a man strong enough to satisfy the court. They could tell me when to show up, and that would be that.
I didn’t care. Not anymore.
Until then, I was done and I wanted to be left alone. I deserved at least that much. That one tiny thing.
Chapter Eleven
CHRIS
I felt wooden as I moved through the hallways, following Van. We were underground somewhere, but it didn’t look like any place I’d been before. Something about it made me worry, but my wolf was sound asleep like he’d never been before.
A bead of sweat rolled down my cheek and I brushed it away.
It was hot here. Why was it so hot? Wasn’t it winter?
Jesus. Where was I? What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I remember what I was doing here or how I got here? Why did my head feel like it was filled with smoke?
Shit. I was finally losing it.
Fear, strong enough to take my breath away, coursed through me—someone needed to put me down. I’d lost time and that was the first sign that my wolf was winning control. I didn’t trust him. He… He was too angry, and that could twist easily into something dark. But it was too late. I’d already been infected by the evil insanity that ruled my pack. If I couldn’t remember where I was or how I got here, and I couldn’t reason any answers to the questions racing through my head, then it was way too late for me.
I knew I was doomed. I’d been stupid to follow Adrian to St. Ailbe’s. Stupid to try to have friends. But maybe if I asked Donovan to do it, he would. Yes. I knew he would. Dawson was too soft. He’d spent too many years watching over temperamental werewolves to do it, and he’d work too hard to try to save me.
I didn’t have any fight left in me. I was done.
So that was my plan. Get back. Call Donovan. And end it before I did any real harm. If I tried to do it myself, I’d just end up losing to the wolf. No. I needed Donovan’s help.
God. The way Cosette looked at me. Maybe I’d done something bad already. Maybe that was why I was here.
I looked at Van for a second. There was something stiff about the way he was moving. He wasn’t an overly friendly guy, but he didn’t usually walk around looking like he’d just tasted something gross.
I had to ask. “Van?”
He stared at the ground for a second before sparing me a look. “Yes?”
