Page 115 of To Crave Deeply
I was going to regret this for the rest of my life.
My heart broke with every step I took towards her, and I could feel Mordecai watching me intently. Tears welled in my eyes as I finally reached her, despite trying to force my body to do anything else.
Jasper made sure that the rest of his team couldn’t help her. He knew all their weaknesses and he exploited them, rendering them useless. They weren’t going to stop me.
No one was.
“Lori…” My voice was strained. She looked up at me, her eyes dazed from being under Mordecai’s sway.
“Hello, Torsten. Have you come to say goodbye?” she asked.
“No… I…”
Mordecai looked between the two of us, his eyes seeing far more than they should. A curious smile curled his lips, and I knew he’d figured out what she’d done.
“Well now, this is an interesting turn of events,” he mused and took a step back.
“What are you doing?” Selene called in outrage. She didn’t know. Couldn’t see what I was about to do.
Mordecai placed a finger against his lips. “Shush, Selene. Watch.”
The vampire was just missing the popcorn, I thought with a grimace.
I pulled her into my arms, and even though I knew this wouldn’t be the last time I’d see her, I wasn’t sure she’d ever be the same again.
Tears fell down my cheeks. I couldn’t hold them back anymore. She looked up at me, not even recognising me, and my heart shattered into a thousand pieces.
“I love you,” I whispered against her temple. “And I’m so sorry.”
Then, in one swift move, I wrapped my hands around her neck, and snapped it.
Chapter 35
LORI
The wind ruffled my hair gently as I sat upon the bench beneath the old oak tree. I knew it was old and that it must have stood for centuries, blowing softly in the wind. I looked up to the top of the tree, squinting as the sun broke through its leaves in dappled rays.
“May I join you?”
I looked to my left and saw an old man standing next to me.
“Of course,” I replied, taking his measure. He wasn’t very tall, but he had a kind face. A white beard curled beneath his chin and laughter lines framed his pale blue eyes.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said.
I frowned. How would he know that? Surely, I’d always been here.
“It’s my fault, really,” he continued, gazing out across the field. “I should never have let things go so far.”
“What do you mean?”
“I hurt someone, and, in their pain, they lashed out. Instead of offering comfort, I banished them from my home.”
“It’s never too late to fix things.”
“I like your optimism, Lori. I always have.” The old man smiled. “Things haven’t been easy for you, have they?”
A sense of dread pooled in my stomach at his words, but it was fleeting. Like a forgotten memory, a wisp of a dream.
