Page 110 of Wild Fury (Fallen Royals 6)

“I had a bad hit tonight,” he says quietly. “I just let myself get fucking destroyed in order to block out everything, but it didn’t work. Now it’s quiet, but I have a ringing in my ears. And I’ve gotta say, I’m contemplating fighting again. Howl is starting back up. I think about you and I get murderous.

“Where did you go? Why did you leave? I have so many fucking unanswered questions, I’m going crazy.”

He breathes, and I breathe along with him. It’s just a message—an old one.

“Sorry, little monster,” he says.

The click tells me it’s over.

The last voicemail is from a week ago. There’s a weight on my chest, and I don’t know if I can listen to this. I stole his car… parked it in front of his parents’ house. I had already decided not to bother coming back. I was choosing to disappear… but I couldn’t resist. He’s like a fucking magnet. But I wanted to send a message to him: I was alive and okay, and he could rest now.

“You were right here. Right in front of my fucking face and you couldn’t do it, could you? You couldn’t reach out. You couldn’t let me find you.” Click.

I pull back, shocked. He was mad in that one—furious, even.

Inhaling, I check my texts next. The number is split—a few from Amelie, one from my mother. The majority from Theo.

“Why?” I whisper. He knew I was gone, and he kept trying to reach me.

I sink into a crouch on the sidewalk, burying my face in my hands. I don’t think I can do this. I can’t be back here.

The old Lucy wasn’t afraid of anything. Well, she was, but she refused to admit it. This new girl I’ve become is terrified of a whole lot.

The phone vibrates in my hand, and I stare at it in shock.

The number—Theo’s number—scrolls across the screen.

He might be expecting it to go to voicemail again. I could just… leave it. Ignore it. Listen to whatever he has to say later, when it doesn’t play out in real time.

But there’s a part of me that thinks that’s just fucking dumb, so I hit the answer button.

“Hi,” I say, so awkward.

Silence hits me, then a strangled noise.

“I, um, I figured you’d think it would go to voicemail like the other times.” I tip my head back and exhale in a rush. “I had to straighten some things out. That’s why I went back. But I’m leaving again. I became a new person, and I was lonely, but it worked for me. I didn’t take any of the baggage—”

“Bullshit.”

I freeze, because it didn’t come from the phone—well, it does, it repeats the same word on a split-second delay in my ear. The voice, his real voice, is behind me.

I rise and turn slowly. My hand falls away from my ear.

Theo stands before me. Tall, muscular, imposing. Menacing to most, I reckon. There seems to be a permanent scowl indented in the space between his brows.

“I—”

“Don’t speak,” he warns.

I close my mouth, too shocked to do anything else. He comes forward and stops just in front of me, his gaze sweeping up and down me as if trying to decide something. He nods to himself and tugs the strap of my bag from my shoulder. I let it go, confused, until he leans down.

He swoops forward, hauling me over his shoulder. I screech, but I don’t kick out. My heart beats out of my chest. He might be able to feel it against his shoulder blade.

“What are you doing?” I manage.

His arm bands behind my knees. I grab on to his shirt when he moves.

“Quiet,” he orders.

---