That he would come after her, tell her he had been wrong to push her away and make some grand gesture to ask for forgiveness. They were mates after all. They were supposed to be together from now on. That’s what happened to all her friends—Kate, Amelia, and Sybil. They were all claimed and bonded by their mates and now happy with their families.
But why did John leave them? Why didn’t he want to bond with her and start their own brood? Surely, he was feeling the pain of their separation as keenly as she was?
Every shadow she saw, every male she bumped into, she thought was him. Her fox had been hopeful, too, its head and ears perking up each time she thought John was there. But weeks passed, and it was obvious she wouldn’t see him again. And that’s when her world spiraled. It wasn’t a swift plummet to the bottom, rather a slow decent that slowly chipped away at her. What the doctor said … yes, she did experience a traumatic experience. Her mate’s utter rejection.
“Dutchy?” Horror clearly marred his face. “What the hell happened?”
Her lips peeled back. “What do you think? Don’t you see, John?” Because for the first time in months, it was finally crystal clear to her. “When you left me, I went into a depression. I tried to claw myself out of it, but the more I struggled, the harder it pulled me down. I lost interest in the outside world, and maybe that’s when it lost interest in me.” Now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop, as if she’d been damming up all her anger and sadness for the past months, and now it was bursting free. “I stopped working because I couldn’t find the creative energy to design. I even let down my friends. Then the colors slowly faded. It was so gradual; I didn’t notice it.”
“What do you mean, the colors faded?”
Shame burned through her, but she continued on. “I mean they’re gone. I can’t see any color at all.” She forced herself to stare at him, searching for those indescribable blue eyes, but all she saw was a light shade of gray.
“And your fox …”
“I told you.” Her fox had made its stance clear. John Krieger was the enemy. He had hurt them so deep and so fundamentally that it couldn’t stand him. “It doesn’t want you around. When you touched me, it tried to claw out of me to get to you.” It wanted blood—his. Even now, the vixen stared at him with a deep hostility that burned like a bright star.
He recoiled in horror. “That can’t … you …” He let out a low, guttural sound as he raked his fingers through his dark hair. “I didn’t mean to …”
When he took another step toward her, her fox fought with all its might, its sharp claws raking at her insides. She curled up into a tight ball. “Please … John … just go.”
Though her face was buried in her knees, she could feel his stare linger on her. Her body tensed tighter, and it was only when she heard his heavy footsteps and the sound of the door slamming shut that her muscles relaxed.
Tears escaped the corners of her eyes, and once they started, she couldn’t stop them. Oh God. She just wanted this feeling to stop. Didn’t want to deal with this anymore. Maybe now, he would stay away forever and just leave her alone.
“Are you ready to leave, Dutchy darling?”
Dutchy looked up at Angela as she stood by the bed. “Yes.” Oh, she was so ready to get out of this place. The sterile smell, the bland food, and the drab surroundings didn’t help her mood at all. Not even the dozens of flowers, cards, balloons, and stuffed animals from her friends made the room feel welcoming.
“Let me help you,” Angela said.
She hated feeling like an invalid, but that’s what she was, wasn’t she? Her left arm was in a cast, and she had to wear a sling. Her ribs still hurt when she did anything harder than breathe. Worse, this morning when the nurse came to change her bandages, she caught sight of the surgical wound across the right side of her torso—a long, angry scar held together with stitches. Tears had sprung to her eyes, but the nurse assured her this was normal, and she was healing properly.
No, she wanted to say. This wasn’t normal. Not for her. She should be fully healed