Page 92 of Veil of Death and Shadow

Eyes squeezed tight, I fought for control; to keep the memories of the last time I’d been held like this at bay for as long as possible.

A soft buzzing noise reverberated through my ears, drowning out any other sound—a soft buzz that I couldn’t shake. I tried desperately to swallow, to get my throat working if I couldn’t force my lungs into action, but my mouth was impossibly dry, my tongue coated with a metallic taste that made me want to gag.

My legs shook, my knees ready to give up altogether and abandon their post. Levi’s grip was the only thing keeping me up.

“No.” I swallowed, the sound deep and haunting as I tried to make my mouth work. “Let me go.”

“Mareena?” The brace of Levi’s arms loosened instantly at the command.

I fell to my knees, dug my fingers into the soft green grass I’d been standing on all afternoon.

Fucking get it together, Mars. You’re not there. You’re not there anymore. You will never be there again, not another day in your life. You made sure of it.

Finally, I managed to suck in a full breath of air, my body almost sore from clenching so hard.

I was at Greenlake.

It was just Levi, it wasn’t him.

“Mareena, please—look at me.” Gentle hands brushed my cheeks, then tilted my chin up until the sun’s fading rays beat against my eyelids. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, did I—did I hurt you?”

I shook my head, then slowly opened my eyes, blinking back the film of tears until Levi’s steady gaze was all that I could see—swirling shades of gray that were darker around the center and lightened the further out from his irises.

His thumb brushed my cheekbone, and I felt the smallest trail of liquid there.

Fuck.

Tears.

I was fucking crying.

One of my biggest rules was to never let anyone see me cry. Except for Sora.

Tears meant pain, and witnessing that kind of pain gave people too much power.

Vulnerability meant closeness, and I did not do closeness. I did notwantcloseness.

I fell back on my ass and propped my elbows on my knees as I glanced up at him.

The look of concern was so sharply drawn over his features that I actually winced at the sight of it. There went any chance of me getting Levi into my pants later tonight.

“I’m okay,” I said, my voice tight as I offered him a no doubt unconvincing smile. “Sorry. Really, I’m fine.”

“Don’t apologize. Please, just tell me what’s wrong. Did I hurt you?” His eyes darted over every inch of my skin, assessing for injuries, for some kind of physical marker thatsomethinghad happened to cause that kind of reaction.

Sorry, bud, just my brain.

Shaking my head, I wiped my cheeks, and stood up—legs still shaky, but strong enough to keep me up.

He reached forward to stabilize me, but I stepped back.

“I said I’m fine,” I snapped, unable to keep the irritation from my voice.

“Right,” he said, eyes soft, hands raised palms up between us. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” The words were cracked, stiff, and I could hear the anger buried inside of them.

Anger that, judging by the crease between his eyebrows, Levi assumed was directed at him.

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