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Warrick shifted, his golden eyes burning into me. “Not letting you kill yourself. You’re not doing that to Willow and Violet. And you’re not doing it to me, to your brothers.”

“Why the fuck are you here? Just go.”

“We stopped by the house just as you took off. Your scent, brother…it’s not right. What happened?”

We?

Willow stepped forward, out of the shadows, her gaze locking on mine before she strode right for me.

“Don’t,” I bit out.

She ignored me and kept coming, wrapping her arms around me. I didn’t want her comfort, couldn’t take it. I pulled her arms from around me, stumbling back, and tore my shirt from my chest, hands shaking, and went for the tree. I pulled out the knife and made the first slice. It was the only thing that would stop me from losing it completely in that moment. The relief was instant.

“Ren,” Willow cried out and tried to run to me.

Warrick snagged her around the waist and hauled her into his arms. “Let him.”

“What? No!” She struggled, but Warrick held her tight.

“He needs it.”

He knew, somehow Warrick knew. I recited the positions of each slice like a mantra, remembering each slice I’d made in an innocent person, shaking, bleeding. My shame, my brokenness on display in all its horror for Willow to see. Something I’d never wanted. Something I would have done anything to prevent. But I couldn’t stop. It was the only way to ease this fucking awful feeling inside me, the only way.

When I finished, blood slid down my body, pooling at my feet.

Willow’s sobs filled the night, while Warrick held her upright, holding her tight in his arms.

I thought I’d already hit the lowest I could. I thought I’d been there. I’d been so fucking far from it.

“Why?” Willow whispered.

I looked over at her, the numbness setting in. “It’s the only thing…that makes it okay.”

“Makes what okay?”

“Living.”

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Chapter 19

Jasmine

* * *

I checked my phone again. Still no reply from Mom. It was the middle of the night, but I was still awake, the awful feeling in my gut wouldn’t go, not after what happened with Ren.

Paris was five hours ahead, it’d be early morning there, but still I hoped she’d answer. I needed my mom, for once I needed her, but as usual she was never available, not for me, and not for Zinny.

We’d never been enough. I tried to tell myself different, but it was the truth. She’d taught me a lesson, and I’d been too stupid to learn from it.

Words mean nothing, actions speak the loudest.

Mom told us she loved us, but she left us behind, and she barely called. She’d forgotten both my and Zinny’s birthdays last year. Ren had shown me he didn’t want me, that he wasn’t interested in me, by being with a constant stream of females right in front of me, never giving my feelings one single thought—because I was so far off his radar, I was on another planet to him.

He’d shown me, time and again, and I’d ignored it, desperate for him to love me. I’d known he’d only kissed me, touched me, because of my magic, because his emotions had been thrown into chaos. And yet I’d convinced myself we had something real.

And I’d forced him to say it.