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Dane…
Stillness saturated the lifeless shadows as she pushed open another door. A shiver chasedunder her gown as she gazed at the dark rafters above. She needn’t go any further to see the cavity was empty of all but a cold bed and hay.
His absence pricked her skin with a tingling chill that lifted the hairs on her neck. Her arms closed protectively over her chest as she covered her mouth and swallowed back a sob.
He was truly gone.
Leaning into the wall, gravity pulled her to the ground. How could he just disappear without a goodbye? What about Cybil? What about her?
Only then did Gracie believe his hateful words from the other day. Until that moment, she thought he spoke out of frustration more than truth, but she’d been wrong. There was no love in his heart for her. Only hatred. He wished to be away from this place and her, and his wish had finally come true.
“Why?” she cried, murmuring to herself. He had to know this was not easy for her. He had to realize she… “How could you just leave me without…” She sniffled and wiped her eyes, but more tears fell. “We were at least friends—I thought.”
Dane had always despised her faith, but now he scorned her for being faithful. If he wanted to hurt her, he’d succeeded.
The last time he lay with Magdalene, Gracie had lashed out, shattering the windows and screaming at him to leave her be. And so he had. Alone, with only the echo of their final words left to haunt her, she tried to understand how they had come to this.
Was this her fault?
Had she made a crucial mistake?
She honestly didn’t know and couldn’t think past the ache in her chest.
What did it matter? He was gone.
Biting into her fist to stifle another sob, she suffered sharp regret.
No matter how she tried, she couldn’t control her tears. Bellowing at the injustice tearing her heart into two, she shoved his dresser to the floor. Drawers slid out of their compartments, spilling the contents onto the floor. A shirt, a pair of work gloves, a pocket knife, all items he’d left behind. Forgotten. Unimportant. Like her.
She pulled the shirt to her nose, closing her eyes to breathe in his scent, only to draw back with a hiss. Even now, in the emptiness of these wooden walls, Magdalene’s stench perfumed the air, mingling with Dane’s earthy musk. It corroded the fabric, overpowering and stealing the only lingering traces of Dane she had left.
Her upset stomach revolted, and knots twisted inside her. Denial would not bring him back any more than it would change her fate. She would never know the secret parts of him the way Magdalene had. And while her soul belonged to someone else, her heart would not listen to reason.
Tears tripped past her lashes. If he could leave without a farewell, he obviously never cared for her like she cared for him.
Had Magdalene earned the courtesy of agoodbye? Was her body worth more than Gracie’s friendship? More than her sentiment of…
No.She would not call it love. Love should be shared. Reciprocated. Love was too precious to abandon. If Dane loved her—truly loved her as he repeatedly claimed in his mind—then he would not have been able to leave her. The proof of his desertion rewrote her in ways she didn’t recognize.
Her sorrow transcended into anger. Magdalene had stood in this place countless times. Laid in his loft, stared into his eyes. Jealousy poisoned Gracie’s insides until a cold chill seeped into her blood. Ice formed a cage around her heart, and she once again closed off her mind. Without Dane’s thoughts fluttering through her mind, it was nothing more than noise.
Inescapable, incessant noise broadcasted at her from every angle. When she was young, they called her telepathy a gift, but she soon discovered it was a curse. With age and practice, she’d learned to block the intrusive thoughts of others to keep them out of her mind, but Dane somehow always broke through her barriers.
She once wondered if his presence was a sign, but then he was identified as a half-breed, and all hope was lost. Soon after, he found comfort in Magdalene’s arms—another half-breed—and her sense of betrayal was complete.
It was a known fact that half-breeds could not get called, as they lacked the predestined genealogy the rest of their species shared. Graciecould not fault Dane for seeking comfort. But, as she tried to navigate so many confusing emotions, he continued to subconsciously penetrate her mind with thoughts of another female.
Gracie could never entirely block him out, so she suffered countless memories of his hands on Magdalene’s flesh, his body entering hers, the scent of her arousal mingling with his, and the taste of her blood on his tongue. All intimacies she would never personally know until she met her called mate.
Now he was gone, and she finally had the silence she asked for. It was for their own good, she supposed, but nothing about his absence felt right. She was alone and hollow, misguided and without her friend.
Gracie had no choice but to reaffirm her faith and continue a life of devotion as she waited for her calling to come. It was all she ever wanted. So why did it feel like he’d stolen something precious from her?
She wished to run or scream or break something. Anything to get the confusing pain out.
Gasping, she tried to make sense of her feelings. He was not her mate. Not her destiny. She’d told him they could never be more than friends and he’d abandoned her. So why did it hurt in places she could not name?
Dane was a momentary lapse of judgment, a smile that would eventually fade. This was a test—the cost of patience and the price of purity.
