Page 14 of The World Undone

My heart hammered an angry beat against my ribs.

I was handling this with about as much grace as a goddamn intoxicated donkey. Where the fuck was Declan? She was so much better at this shit than I was.

I shot a scathing look at Levi. “Can you give us a minute please.”

“By all means,” he leaned against the wall, catching a bottle of wine he’d bumped into before another one met its demise on the ground “take all the minutes you need.”

Clearly, he wasn’t leaving.

Smug fuck.

I swallowed back the growing desire to punch him again, knowing full well it would just upset Max more.

I had enough working against me at the moment.

My jaw clenched so tight I could barely speak. But I managed a low, “without you,” anyway.

Obviously without him. Fucking dick.

Levi grunted, a shadow of mirth flaring briefly across his expression. “I know what you meant, but I want to hear this too. Perfect little bonded team isn’t as perfect as it seems, apparently. You can’t pay for this kind of entertainment. And as amusing as Seamus is, this takes top billing.”

That tic in my jaw was back with a vengeance, but instead of pushing the argument further, I turned back to Max.

I hated Levi, but that was personal, me-problem shit. Max didn’t need to deal with it, and if we were going to stay here for a while, I needed to find a way to interact with him without exploding every time we shared air space.

Of course, it would be a lot easier if he wasn’t constantly watching her, staring at her with a familiarity and interest that made my stomach crawl with boiling, unfamiliar rage.

I took a deep breath, focused my attention on Max.

I wasn’t going to fuck this up.

Not again.

I was done fucking shit up with her.

“When you left in the middle of the night, when you went to Headquarters, I was fucking terrified that I was going to lose you. Like the forever kind of lose you. I needed to get to you, to save you, but—” I shot a look at Levi, remembering all over again that he’d made my life more difficult in that trying moment as well, “I didn’t know how. And I got angry,” I shook my head, trying to dispel the lingering memory of that acute fear, “like really angry.”

“Eli angry? Shocking.” Levi snorted, but he shut up when I cut him another warning look.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, but he didn’t say anything else.

“And then I caught on fire.” I grabbed her hand, the feel of her skin against mine calming the anxiety rushing through me, like my body needed to know at a cellular level that she was okay, that she was here, that I was hers. “Like your fire.” I shook my head before clarifying, “not just like your fire—we’re pretty sure that I actually conjured your fire. Somehow.”

The soft wrinkle between her brows unfurled as her face settled into surprise. I took a step closer to her, cradling her face between my hands and blocking her from Levi’s view.

If he insisted on staying for this, then the least I could do was obliterate his presence as much as possible. This wasn’t about the smug asshole.

This was about me and Max. Protecting the bond that had grown more important to me than anything else in the entire world—more important, even, than my own life.

Her dark, beautiful brown eyes met mine, and I hated that there was a glassy film obscuring their usual warmth. Hated even more that I was, in part, the cause.

“I don’t know how I did it and I don’t know why it happened when it did. Maybe it was just a flare from when you were burning down The Guild, and I channeled it somehow through my own anger.” My thumb grazed over the soft skin of her cheek, a steady rhythm to calm us both. “I haven’t been able to conjure even a wisp of smoke since. Nothing happened. No one got hurt. I scorched some grass outside and that was it. After you brought Atlas and Sarah back, after you brought down Headquarters—Max, it honestly didn’t seem that important. Not compared to everything else that we’re dealing with right now, everything to come.”

I stepped closer, inhaling the soft smell of her shampoo, using it to center me. “And the longer we went without saying anything, the more difficult it became to start—like in forgetting about the whole thing briefly, and then not saying anything, it had grown into a bigger deal than it was. Does that make sense?” I sighed, feeling the exhale low in my gut, fear over her reaction mingling with the easing tension now that this was out. There were no more secrets between us. She could reach into my thoughts and pull out anything that she wanted—they were all about her—all for her, anyway. “I’m sorry. Truly, extremely sorry.”

Her jaw was tight, and I rubbed my thumb against the sharp line of it, trying to soothe away the tension.

She didn’t lean into my touch like she often did, but she didn’t shy away from it either. I’d count that as a win for now, though I knew this wouldn’t be the end of the conversation.

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