Page 157 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
“Rory, what—”
“You were right, Maxwell. What you said about Seb. Hedidhit his head the day he hired me. I know it was a favour to Kit. I bet Kit had to beg him, and then beg him not to kick me out so many times.” His voice climbed higher with each word, hands shaking violently. “And now I’ve gotten people killed because I’m so fucking useless at everything.”
Irritation flared through me—not at him, but at myself. I’d known leaving Dev here was dangerous. I’d voiced my concerns, but then let Dev’s snide comments about not trusting Rory get under my skin. Now we had what appeared to be a homicide scene and Rory was spiralling into a complete breakdown.
I moved towards him, holding out my hands as if he were a scared animal. But he moved backwards, scrambling away from me.
A tiny voice in my head noted that I should really be more concerned with the probable murder than with Rory saying we couldn’t be together, but that voice was promptly drowned out by the overwhelming need to stop his panic.
“Andyou told me! You said we shouldn’t do it,” Rory shouted at me, eyes wild. “You were right! Aren’t you going to say, ‘I told you so?’”
“Of course not!” The words burst out of me like I’d been sucker-punched. “This isn’t your fault. We both—”
“Stay here,” he said suddenly, already moving towards the door, that manic energy propelling him forward. “Please.”
My saliva turned sharp and metallic, like I’d been sucking on batteries. “What? Where are you going?”
Don’t leave me.
I lunged forward, fingers grasping for his arm, but they closed around thin air. He was too quick, already at the threshold.
“Rory, wait—”
He had the door open now, already shrugging off his hoodie with jerky, desperate movements. Christ, he was going to shift. Shift, and leave me.
“Stay here,” he repeated, and there was something almost pleading in his voice that carved itself directly into my skin, hollowing me from the inside out. “And I’m sorry, Maxwell. So sorry. This is all entirely on me, not you.”
Stop him! Follow him!my brain screamed, but my legs wouldn’t move. The overwhelming tide of Rory’s emotions through our bond was crushing—panic and guilt and self-loathing so intense it felt like drowning. My chest constricted, my own breath coming in short gasps as his terror and confusion flooded my system.
The door slammed shut with a bang that echoed through the blood-splattered cottage.
I staggered backwards, one hand pressed against my temple where a sudden, vicious headache had bloomed. The emotional onslaught was too much, too raw, like someone had torn open every nerve ending in my body and poured acid over them.
Through the window, I caught a glimpse of golden fur disappearing into the treeline.
Though as the distance between us increased, it wasn’t just his emotions that faded—it felt like someone was slowly dimming the lights in a room I’d only just learned to see in.
Panic receded just enough for me to draw a proper breath, though my hands were still shaking. I stared at the closed door, at Rory’s abandoned hoodie crumpled on the blood-stained floor, and felt utterly helpless.
Utterly alone.
We’d been joined at the hip for days on end, and now his absence was like a missing tooth.
My hands shook as I pulled out my phone, caught between relief that I could finally call for help and absolute dread at having to explain what had happened. How would I find the words to tell Kit?
The phone vibrated in my fingers before I could dial. Kit’s name flashed on the screen.
My breath caught. Did he already know? Could he sense Rory’s distress through their bond, even from hundreds of miles away?
“Hello?” My voice came out shaky, barely recognisable.
“Teddy? You alright? Terrier didn’t pick up.”
I’ve lost him, Kit. I’ve lost your brother.
One deep breath. “I was just about to call you. Something… something’s happened.”
I filled Kit in as best I could—the blood-soaked cottage, Dev and Isla missing, Rory’s complete breakdown. Kit’s sharp intakes of breath punctuated my recounting, followed by stretches of silence that made my stomach churn. Each pause felt like an accusation, like he was calculating exactly how badly I’d failed to protect Rory.
