Page 62 of The Enemy to the Living
“Fuck you, Drew,” I snap. “You didn’t think of any of us, did you?Yourfather terrorised us,yourpotential mate,yourfucked-up vampire enemy or whatever he was, andwepaid the price. All of us.”
I’m not being fair. I know that. Drew came for me when I called, after his dad told me when was best to get away.
I’d already lost my ability to shift by then. The last time I shifted was—
I taste blood, breathe in the imagined smell of it again.
The last time I shifted, I killed a vampire.
But Drew did save me. Kieran has let me join his pack.
I can’t help it. A year or more of impotent anger finally has an outlet, and besides, I am angry at him for abandoning me, even if I would have never gone with him had he asked. He never told me about the members of the Hunt looking out for them. He never told me he was going to leave.
Someone hammers on the door, and I jump. Drew’s crying in earnest now, hitching little sobs, and I scrub a hand over my face.
“Drew?” Sam calls through the wood. “Sweetheart, are you all right?”
For a second, I can’t breathe. Of course Sam’s here—their bond means he can feel that Drew is upset; that I’ve upset him. Fuck.Fuck. I’m not going to be able to stay here, am I? Why did I even try?
“Get out,” I say to Drew and storm through into the bathroom before he can answer. I close the door and lock it, then lean back against it as I try to listen to what he’s doing.
The front door opens. Sam makes a surprised sound, then a soothing one, and I hear the rumble of his voice, but I can’t make out the words. Drew sobs again. I press the heels of my hands against my eyes until they stop burning, and when I take my hands away, my palms are wet.
No chance Kieran will let me stay after that. I’ve just said I blame the two of them for everything that happened—and he’s supposed to be my alpha. I sink to the ground and wrap my arms around my legs.
It’s not only that. I’ve got no one at all, do I? Everyone I know is in this pack, and everyone I used to know is dead or hurting just as much as I am. If I called anyone from home and told them about this—
Why would they care? No one was that surprised when Drew ran off in the middle of the night.
Only me. I was surprised. I hadn’t hesitated to help Drew when Hale arrived. I watched the way Drew shrank away from him, already afraid, and I offered our house for Hale and his betas to stay in before my parents could tell me not to.
And then he was there for months. Months of quiet, taunting threats. Months of anger, of him tainting every corner of myhome and thinking it was worth it because at least I was keeping him away from my friend, and then—
I sob into my knees. Everything hurts, head throbbing in time with my pulse. I should go out and lock the front door, but I can’t bring myself to move. Slowly, the room around me grows dark, and I stare into the shadows.
Maybe I should just go back. I have to at some point because the house needs packing up properly and they’ve already floated the idea of me selling it back to the pack. I don’t even need to ask Kieran, not really. I could go straight to Alpha Deacon. I could go back up north and clean out the house and—
And what? My lip curls and I lean my head back against the door. It still hurts, but more from the crying than my injuries; when I feel around, the lump from yesterday is gone. And live out my life up there? I still have no future. Besides, what place do they have for me? They’ve been rebuilding for months without any of us.
I’ll still have no one, too. That won’t change. Just a head full of memories, even worse than the ones that chase me now because before Hale arrived, bringing Tamesis with him, things were generallygood.
Tears fall again as I think of all the times Drew and I sneaked off into the woods, long before Kieran left the pack. Hours spent at my house, my parents exasperatedly telling us to go to sleep as we whispered and giggled through the night.
After Kieran left, I was the one he came to. I helped him get away when his dad was too much.
And he listened to me all the same, even though the complaints I had about my mum and dad—a ragged sob tears from my throat because how could I haveeversaid those things about them—were nothing in comparison. He cheered me up when I was sad, when my first sort-of boyfriend dumped me,and the fights we had were all over silly shit that never lasted longer than an afternoon.
I’ve ruined it. I’ve ruined everything. And as the tears begin to slow again, I know I can’t stay on the bathroom floor all night.
I move slightly, half-heartedly intending to get to my feet, and my phone slides out of my pocket and onto the floor. I pick it up. Okay, I can do this. Stand up. Wash my face. Phone on charge.
One little step at a time. And if anyone comes, I just won’t open the door.
I stroke my thumb over my phone screen, then unlock it and scroll to Asher’s number without any conscious thought of choosing to. I have one person, don’t I? Asher hasn’t spoken to the rest of the pack. He’s looked out for me.
He kissed me.
My lips wobble and I swallow down a whimper. I press his number before I can talk myself out of it. It rings for a while. Is he in a meeting? Hunting something?
