Page 131 of The World Undone

My chest was tight, resisting every breath of air I tried to squeeze into it.

“That’s it?” Mer called after me. Her feet crunched through the gravel as she walked towards me. “You’re not going to see her? You’re not going to apologize?”

I shook my head. “Not right now.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t deserve her forgiveness until I’ve earned it. And I know Charlie. I don’t want to burden her with feeling like she needs to give it to me. Not now, not when she’s already going through so much—” I spun around and jumped, finding Mer only a few inches away from me, her wide, doll-like eyes sharp on my face as she studied me, “pain.”

I knew when people were afraid of me, I could usually smell the tangy scent of their fear with a single inhale.

Mer wasn’t.

I wasn’t sure if that made her brave or reckless.

“I never understood why she always vouched for you.” She tilted her head, her arms crossed over her chest. “Over the years, they’d occasionally fight about you—Bishop and her, I mean. Dani too, whenever she was around for a visit and that night came up in conversation. But Charlie always swore you were good, that you saved her that day. Sacrificed your freedom for her life.”

My throat tightened, and as much as I wanted to walk away from this conversation, as much as I wanted to sink myself into a problem that I could actually solve, I couldn’t. It was like my body had suddenly decided it wasn’t mine to control.

“Is it true what your friends said—Max, your brother, the others?” When I didn’t respond, she continued. “That there’s a power inside of you that you sometimes can’t control? One that comes from the barrier between realms that are fracturing. The same magic that everyone is terrified will one day destroy us all?”

My tongue was sandpaper in my mouth, dry and rough, incapable of creating speech.

“And that instead of letting it consume you, instead of letting it out to hurt people, you devote all of your strength to fighting it back, to keeping it locked in?” She narrowed her eyes. “That you’ve done this for years? Even while in captivity? When sinking into it might have provided you some semblance of reprieve or protection?”

“It’s hardly so noble—” my jaw was stiff as I spoke.

“Hardly.” She arched a brow, her sharp stare sinking into me, like she could see and understand things about me even I had no grasp of. “You’re right. Charlie would accept your apology and try to ease your guilt if you saw her right now. She already doesn’t blame you, hasn’t even thought of the bite since the moment he—” for the first time, her voice wavered, “since they brought him back. But I think giving her time to grieve Bishop’s loss is wise right now, it’s the right move. Besides, while Charlie might be ready to forgive you now, I’m not sure you’re ready to hear it.”

I swallowed, then turned around, annoyed by this human girl’s shrewdness. I felt naked under her perusal, and not in a good way.

“Darius,” she called, when I’d made it only a few steps away from her. I didn’t turn back around, but I didn’t keep moving either. Once again, my body seemed to have a mind of its own, one that didn’t belong to me. “While you’re on this apology tour of yours, might I add a suggested stop?” I said nothing in her pause, waiting—and hating myself for this girl’s strange power over me. “You. I’m no expert in vampire psychology, but even to me—years and years of holding that in, of holding it together and hating yourself for the brief occasions you couldn’t,” her voice trailed through the wind around me. “I don’t know, seems like a good enough penance, doesn’t it?”

Claude stood, his feet clothed in shoes that looked obnoxiously expensive, pressed boldly into the shore less than an inch from where the water curled against the rocks. He was still, staring out at the place where he’d materialized when I brought them here.

“Have you seen the ripple again?”

When I’d spoken to him earlier, he mentioned seeing the gentle ripple of a portal, like an iridescent flap over the skyline, a few times. Each time he’d approached, his hand would go straight through. Almost like a permanent tear, but one that didn’t seem to lead anywhere.

He didn’t turn back to answer, but I noticed the tension in his shoulders. I bit back my smug grin, knowing that I’d snuck up on him—a rare thing to do to a vampire, especially one as powerful as he was.

“Once or twice,” he answered, whatever daze his thoughts had wrapped him in, coming slowly undone at my approach. “There’s something strange about this place, unsettling. I can’t put my finger on it.”

I shrugged, staring out into the deceptively calm water.

“That, or it’s just the unbalance of having all four of us here,” he said, more to himself than to me.

“Speaking of, where’s Nash?” I scanned the grounds, half expecting him to jump out and decapitate me at any moment. “Maybe I didn’t close the portal properly.”

Not that I exactly understood how I opened it up in the first place.

He turned to me, considering for a moment. “You’re doing better.”

I didn’t say anything to that. There was nothing to add. I was better.

As the day bled into night, I felt more like myself than I could remember feeling in years. The burden I’d carried for so many years had lost most of its weight overnight.

I’d carry it all again, tenfold, if it meant that I could keep Max safe.

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