Page 151 of His Darkest Desire

The roar began in his belly—in the pit of his soul. It was a banshee’s wail of lament, the enraged call of a wounded, starving beast, the cry of an immortal enduring an eternity of self-inflicted suffering.

The sound felt like golden blades slicing his chest and throat, leaving fire in their wake, and its reverberation within the chamber only plunged more blades into him, burying them deep in his heart and soul.

Kinsley was gone. He’d sent her away. He’d forever severed himself from the only light in his life.

Though he did not will it, his roar became a plea—it became her name. And he sounded it until all breath fled his lungs and he collapsed to the ground, where that name echoed cruelly through the ley lines, bounced off the chamber walls, and replaced the sound of his heartbeat.

CHAPTER FORTY

Kinsley was tired. So damned tired. It’d been hours since Vex had cast her out, and she’d felt every second that had passed. She thought she’d felt heartache over Liam? That had been nothing compared to what she felt now.

Half her soul had been ripped away.

Against her protests, Kinsley’s family had insisted she see a doctor. During the long car ride to the hospital, her parents and aunt had asked endless questions.

What had happened? Where had she been? What was she wearing? Where was her car?

But Kinsley hadn’t answered any of them. She couldn’t have. Every time she’d opened her mouth to mutter, I’m okay—which would’ve been a complete lie—she’d started crying again. What else could she have said, anyway? They wouldn’t have believed the truth, even if she’d been able to give it.

At the hospital, the long wait in the waiting room had been equally torturous. Yet she had felt little relief when a nurse finally called her back. Kinsley’s mother had accompanied her to the exam room, while her father and aunt anxiously remained behind.

She’d felt like an automaton as they’d gone through the usual motions—checking vitals, questions about her medical history, peeing in a cup. After the nurse had left, Kinsley sat, staring at the floor, again waiting.

Waiting for something that would never come.

Waiting for Vex.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been before the doctor stepped in. The middle-aged, gray-haired woman with a soothing brogue had introduced herself as Dr. Ames. She’d checked Kinsley over for injuries, but there weren’t any to find. Even Kinsley’s hand had healed again, without a scar to be seen.

Soon after the doctor had stepped out, promising she’d return once she had some test results to review, Kinsley had received a visit from the police.

The detectives were compassionate but firm. They’d asked many of the same questions as Kinsley’s family, along with a great deal more.

What had happened on the night of her disappearance? Had she met someone? Had she been taken, assaulted? Was she avoiding their questions because she was protecting someone, or because she feared for her safety if she shared the truth? How had her car vanished, leaving behind only the path it had cut through the woods and some scattered debris?

Had she been under the influence of alcohol or any controlled substances that night or in the time since?

She understood how it all must’ve looked. She’d vanished with only the most inconclusive of traces. The local authorities had searched the surrounding area thoroughly, going so far as to have diving teams check the loch, but there’d been nothing to find save a few bits of broken glass, plastic, and metal where her car had crashed.

Then, three months later, she’d suddenly reappeared in the middle of the woods where’d she’d vanished.

No answer she could’ve provided would have ever satisfied everyone’s questions. That she’d been able to muster the occasional shake of her head or an I don’t know had been a small wonder given how everything felt inside her chest—like there was a huge hole where her heart should’ve been, swallowing everything up.

But now, thankfully, the police had decided to relent.

Kinsley watched as one of the detectives handed a card to her mother, who was sitting beside her.

“If she remembers anything, ma’am, please let us know.”

Emily nodded. “We will.”

The detectives stepped out and quietly closed the door.

Emily settled her hand on Kinsley’s. “What aren’t you telling us, love?”

“Nothing.”

“Kinsley, please. You disappeared for months without a word. That isn’t like you. Everywhere you’ve gone, you’ve always, always kept in touch. Always. And then you suddenly appear out of thin air dressed like…like”—Emily waved at Kinsley’s body—“that! Like you’ve stepped out of some fairytale. This isn’t nothing.”

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