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“Do you need anything?” She motioned toward the kitchen on the left, the white counters and stainless steel appliances gleaming under the moonlight flooding in from the windows and French doors. “Food? Something to drink?”
Fane gave his aunt a tight smile. “Thanks, but I think she just wants to be alone right now.”
She nodded and clasped her hands together. “Just let me know if you need anything.”
I mumbled another thanks and followed Fane up the stairs to the same guest room I’d slept in. He shut off the overhead light and clicked on a lamp by the fluffy chair in the corner and one on the bedside table as if he knew I wanted to avoid the cheerfulness of the room’s blue and white decor.
He set my bags on the floor next to a smoky gray dresser with clean lines and brushed metal handles. “You can put your clothes in here and in the closet. This is your room now. You’re going to be here for a while.”
“Will you?” Would he just dump me at the Mohan pack and leave? Would he abandon me like everyone else?
The thought of him leaving sent a shot of fear through my system so intense my knees nearly buckled. I hated that I wanted him to stay. He’d betrayed me, lied to me, and sold me to Ruin. It didn’t matter that the demon lord of Savannah wasn’t a bad guy, and he planned to use the Infernal Sol to help demons and humans. Fane could have told me the truth. He could have trusted me.
But he didn’t.
And for some reason, I still didn’t despise him enough to want him gone.
How screwed up was that?
Fane shortened the gap between us until his body brushed mine. His head tilted down while his fingers brushed over my neck tattoo. An electrical current pulsated from the spot, traveling through me. “I’m not going anywhere, Teague.”
A shaky breath blew from my lungs. “Okay.” It was all I could manage with him this close, staring at me with molten eyes. His masculine scent washed over my senses, and I wanted to drown in him.
He backed away before I could do something stupid like throw myself into his arms. “Call me if you need me. I won’t be far.”
I nodded, and he left the room, closing the door behind him.
As soon as he disappeared, the dam keeping my tears at bay burst into a million pieces. Moisture dampened my cheeks, and broken sobs poured out of my mouth. I sank to the ground, curling into a ball and shaking as all the pain and anger drowned me.
It felt like someone had ripped my heart out and stomped on it while I watched. The last few years meant nothing, and not one single raven had said goodbye. They all saw me as the enemy even when I fought and trained by their sides. Axel hadn’t said a word, and Hawk wouldn’t even look at me.
The sobs came harder when I thought of my best friend. He’d finally confessed his feelings for me and wanted to be together.
And then he kicked me in the chest when he found out I wasn’t his perfect raven partner anymore. His aunt was the worst of all. From the moment she discovered I was a shifter, she just wanted to use Barric to force my secrets out.
I pressed my face into the ground, but my cries continued. Fane could probably hear them, and he no doubt could feel the storm of anguish battering me. I couldn’t stop, though. He’d just have to endure it until my tears dried up or I cried myself to sleep.
A few months ago, my life was on the right track until I locked eyes with Fane Maverick across the club. That night my relationship with Hawk and Roxie imploded, and I met a monster who was just as damaged as I was.
I was no longer a raven but a shifter who couldn’t even shift with a dangerous demon amulet stuck inside.
How could I atone for failing to save Jayla and my friends—and all the other bad shit I’d caused—if I couldn’t be a raven? Was I supposed to give up on that and just surrender to the darkness inside of me?
* * *
A knock echoedon the bedroom door, and I threw the covers over my head, groaning. I already declined Nora’s offer for breakfast a while ago. Was she seriously back again? Did she think I’d starve to death within a few hours?
“Tate, it’s Dylan.” The eleven-year-old’s voice squeaked at the end. “My mom said you weren’t hungry, but I made you French toast with spicy syrup. I bet you’ll love it.”
I drew the covers down, releasing a long breath. Damn it. He made me food. It was probably disgusting, but how could I turn him down and hurt his little feelings?
Yep. I was going soft.
“Come in.” I sat up and leaned against the pillows as Dylan strolled in, carrying a tray with a plate, syrup, and orange juice.
Holy shit. I thought only people on TV had breakfast-in-bed trays.
“You look like crap.” He shrugged and placed the tray over my legs. “Still pretty, though. Just a little messy. And your eyes are red like how Preston looked when his girlfriend broke up with him in high school.”
