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This could go very wrong if I don’t figure out a way to channel all these feelings in the right direction.
I stare at the large house, searching for any signs that anything is amiss and ignore the vibration in my pocket for the millionth time. There isn’t anything I could read on that screen or hear said that would stop me from my mission now.
If Callista might be in trouble, I have to find her.
Consequences be damned.
Nothing looks out of the ordinary. Not a single leaf out of place on the manicured hedges that line the drive and the walkway leading up to the front door. No broken windows.
Maybe nothing happened.
Maybe you’re overreacting.
Unless she ran.
If she and her father left, if that text was merely some ploy to get me to fly off the handle when she really fled of her own volition, then I’ve made a fool of myself by coming here.
She wouldn’t do that.
The woman who seduced me in the library, who I spent glorious nights wrapped up in, who promised me she would return, wouldn’t break her word. Even if she couldn’t stay, she would have come back to tell me, to explain herself rather than leaving me like this.
But that little voice in the back of my head, the one that controls my curse and keeps me bound to it eternally, screams, “Of course she would. Why wouldn’t she want to get away from you? Away from the situation. There’s no reason for her to stay. You haven’t given her one.”
I haven’t.
Not at all.
No answers.
No hope for a future.
Nothing.
What future could you offer her?
One where she stays on the mountain with you and has no life, where she remains holed up in the library day in and day out because she has nothing else to do except nurse your emotional wounds and prevent you from sinking further into the abyss.
That sounds absolutely lovely for a young woman like her.
I scowl as I watch a light flip on upstairs.
Someone’s home.
Either it’s her or the bastard who put her into this position in the first place.
I push open the door and grab my axe from the seat beside me. Ever-present, its weight in my palm helps calm me slightly as I stalk toward the front door.
A massive chunk is missing from the middle of it, undoubtedly where the axe was left, along with the message that sent Beauty to me.
But it wasn’t mine.
Staring at the mark it left, anger swells in my chest at the way the entire situation has been manipulated from day fucking one. How both my reputation and Callista were used and twisted in order to accomplish something that has nothing to do with either of us.
I reach out and try the knob, but it doesn’t turn.
No fucking problem.
If I didn’t have my axe in my hand, I could take this thing down with my bare hands in seconds, but I raise the weapon and slam it into the wood just above the knob.
