Page 79 of Bullied Mate

“You’ve hurt him. You’ve kept him from being happy. How dare you—”

I threw myself at him, practically knocking him to the ground. Muscles like his could handle the load, even with my sudden outpouring of devastation.

“Take me to him,” I blubbered, “now.”

Xavier scooped me from the ground and held me steady. He squeezed me hard, much like Izdor or Juriah would. The pressure encouraged my muscles to relax, inspiring me to take deeper breaths, and all that led to a calmer existence.

Minutes later, the sobbing had ceased, and I was standing on my own feet without his assistance. I wanted to lean on him again. But I also wanted to get moving.

Xavier rubbed my arms generously. “I’ll call Mom and tell her we’re coming over.”

Ah, to hear sweet words like that made my soul sing. Yet regardless of their loving influence, my insides shattered. My head ached as if I had slammed it repeatedly into the lockers. My heart sputtered and chugged, and then my vision wavered like I was about to lose consciousness.

I grabbed Xavier’s arm. “Avi…”

“Lanthie, what’s wrong?”

Cries came to my ears—distant, yet distinct. Calamity flowered where certainty had been planted. Surely what we had discussed and what we felt was sufficient. What was happening? Why did I feel this way?

“Come on. You need air,” he said as he dragged me from the locker room. “I’ll call Etta and we’ll—”

His phone chimed. Oh, it was a strange tune, too complicated for my ears to discern over the clamoring voices and booming grief. Someone was hurt. Someone was suffering. I was sure of it now that Xavier had released my hand and answered his phone.

“Etta? I was about to call. I need—”

His face paled.

And I knew it then as I knew myself. I knew it in my bones what prompted his expression to appear like the shimmering moon.

“Mom got hurt,” he croaked. “Mom is hurt. We have to go.”

Chapter 23 - Xavier

Goddess, if you’re listening, we need you right now.

Prayers weren’t going to work. I knew that. Everyone knew that at this point.

Please, if you’re listening, give us a break.

It was useless to chat with the gods. They didn’t care about us.

Give her strength. Let us get there. Let us be there for her.

Nothing would work at this point. No god or magical intervention could prevent my mother’s death. We had been trying for years—orshehad been trying for years, until she couldn’t deny the truth to me any longer. She was dying. This was inevitable.

We all knew it.

So, why did it hurt so much that it was happening now?

Galanthia gripped my hand as we barreled into the living room. Bethany had tears streaking her face. Shit, we were too late, weren’t we? She had bitten the damn dust and it was because I hadn’t been here. It was because I’d been too preoccupied with my selfish endeavors. It was because—

“Avi, snap out of it,” Galanthia demanded as she shook me. “Easy now. There you go. Just keep breathing.”

I stared at the woman of my dreams, the woman who had come to life right before me, right under my touch. A sort of coolness entered my spirit, and then I wasn’t panicking anymore. Not actively, anyway. I was just standing there with this woman clutching my shoulders like she was about to start shaking me again.

Oxygen burned my lungs, but I couldn’t stop breathing. It was the only thing my body allowed me to do. “Lanthie…”

“We’re here. We made it,” she assured. “Do you want to see her?”

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