Holland says again. He reaches across the table to offer me his hand, but I do not take it.
“I feel like I am losing my mind,” I whisper.
“Tell me about the dream,” he whispers back.
My gaze darts to his. “Did Jasik tell you?” I am not truly upset that Jasik informed the others of my midday outburst. What else do I expect of him?
Holland nods. “Do not be upset. We all heard your screams. He was cornered into telling us.”
I shrug it off. “He would have told you anyway,” I say, sounding far more bitter than I mean to.
I know I am being childish, but I can’t help it. I am only seventeen. I am supposed to act like a child. I am not supposed to be planning my impending funeral. Sometimes, I think the others forget they have far more years on me.
“Ava…” Holland says, chastising me for my behavior without being too harsh.
I inhale deeply, and before I release my breath, I let my lungs fill until it hurts.
“Tell me about it,” Holland asks again.
I stare at my food as I recount the nightmare. Only when I am finished do I peer over at Holland. His forehead is creased, his eyes narrowed. He looks angry, but I have come to understand he is not upset. This is the face he makes when he is lost in thought. He is considering my words carefully, trying to analyze my dream for some hidden meaning that might make sense. He is trying to find a way to make everything okay again, and I worry he will fail.
“What do you think?” I ask, finally breaking the silence.
“I think you are looking pretty rough, Ava,” someone says.
I tear my gaze away from Holland to stare at our intruder. The moment I see Will, I am swarmed with emotion. My heart bursts at the sight of him, and I practically hum with excitement.
“Will!”
I shriek as I jump to my feet and push away from the table, my chair skidding against the tile floor. As I rush over to him, I slam my hip into the edge of the table. Pain surges through me, but I ignore it. I hear the distinct clash of something breaking, followed by Holland cursing under his breath, but I ignore those things too. I am focused solely on Will.
I jump into his arms, and he wraps them around me. He lifts me a few inches off the ground, allowing my legs to dangle in front of him. My spine cracks, protesting as he sways back and forth with me limp in his arms like an old rag doll.
“You said you would not be gone long this time,” I say. “Liar.”
“I know, I know,” he responds softly. “I am sorry.”
I inhale deeply, finding comfort in Will’s scent. Will is the only other hybrid I have ever met, and I have always felt an immediate, innate connection to him. He makes me feel safe and happy and understood. He never cared about my mood swings or blood lust. He understood why I felt so torn between the vampires and witches, and why I fought so hard to protect them, to include them, to end this feud.
He understood because he lost everything at the hands of rogue vampires—just like I did. Our lives collided at the perfect moment, right when I needed him most, and I like to think he was a gift from fate as apology for ending my life so abruptly.
Will chuckles as I bury my face in the crevice of his neck, inhaling deeply. He smells like sage and herbs and spices from spells. He smells like wild flowers and summertime. He smells so familiar, it makes my heart burn. Every time he leaves, I break a little more. I am not sure how many more times he can chip away at me before I shatter completely.
“I missed you too, Ava,” Will says.
He squeezes me tightly, and I grunt loudly. My body protests again, but I ignore it. I relish in these moments, because I know, soon, he will leave again. He never stays longer than he must, and it kills me every time I watch him walk away, wondering when—or if—he will ever return.
“Careful,” someone says.
I open my eyes, finding Jasik a few feet away. He is standing directly behind Will. Something flashes in his eyes, but he blinks, and it is gone. Jasik has never acted jealous of my relationship with Will, but I know it bothers