Chapter 21
Tristan
My eyes pop open, unfamiliar scenery staring back at me.
Then I remember last night.
The first thing I notice is the quiet. No soft breathing beside me. No warmth. Just sunlight spilling through the window like an accusation.
“Raine?”
Nothing.
The house feels different without her heartbeat beside mine.
I check the kitchen, the porch, the hallway—each step heavier than the last.
Then I see her. She’s down by the edge of the vineyard, hair blazing gold in the early light.
I set out after her.
When I get closer, my heartbeat slows.
My gaze drops to her hand, the white plastic and silver chain catching the sun.
The mask.
My stomach drops.
She turns when I reach her. Her eyes aren’t soft anymore. They’re shards of amber glass.
“You.” Her voice shakes. “You were the one wearing the mask.”
“Raine—listen.” I step closer. “It’s not what you think. I was trying to protect you, to—”
“Protect me?” She laughs once, sharp and broken. “You chased me through my house and vineyard, Tristan. You terrified me.”
“I never meant to—”
“Stop.” She holds up a trembling hand. “Y-You touched me. In my room.” Her lips quiver, hurt lining the planes of her face.
She turns away, sucking in a deep breath, before looking back at me, betrayal and pain in her eyes. “You made me feel safe last night. And now all I can think about is how easily you lied.”
The word safe cuts deeper than it should.
“I didn’t lie,” I say quietly. “I just—lost control.”
Her eyes flash. “Then stay the hell away from me before you lose it again.”
She drops the mask at my feet and turns toward the house, her shoulders shaking.
The wind moves through the vines, scattering dust and echoes.
When I pick up the mask, the morning sun catches on its smooth surface—white, blinding, empty.
I slip it into my pocket, the weight of it pulling me back down the hill.
She thinks the danger’s over.
She’s wrong.
Because losing her is the only thing that truly terrifies me now.