Chapter 21 – Regina
Chapter
Twenty-One
REGINA
I’m sitting on the floor of Villeneuve’s library, surrounded by books I’m not reading, because apparently that’s what I do now. Not that it’s gotten me any closer to the cure to Killian’s virus.
My phone is in my hand. No new messages. The bond is a mess of distant, muffled emotions I can’t even begin to untangle.
Micah reached out about two hours ago. A brief pulse through our connection that said he’s okay, we found him, just give us time.
I close my eyes and lean my head back against the bookshelf. The leather spines press into my skull, uncomfortable but grounding.
Villeneuve hasn’t come to find me either. I don’t know if he’s giving me space, or just doesn’t know what to say. Maybe both.
The worst part is that I’m not even angry at him. I should be. He dropped that bomb without warning, without giving me any chance to prepare. But he did it to protect me from Knox. Did it because in that moment, it was the only card he had left to play.
I’m angry at myself.
I should have told them. Weeks ago, when I first figured out what Villeneuve had done during the ritual. I should have sat them down and explained, should have trusted them enough to handle it.
Instead, I kept it a secret because I didn’t want everything blowing up in our faces before we found a cure. So much for that.
The bond shifts.
I feel it before I consciously register what’s changed. That one thread that connects me to Killian, the one that’s been stretched thin and distant for hours, suddenly flares stronger. Closer.
He’s back.
I’m on my feet before I finish the thought, books scattering as I move. My legs carry me through the hallway, past the window overlooking the garden where the remnants of our once peaceful afternoon still linger, out through the back door and into the cooling evening air.
The garden is a fucking mess. Trampled roses and the aftermath of a fight that shouldn’t have happened. I don’t stop to look at it. I’m following the bond now, letting it pull me like a compass needle.
The roof.
Of course he’s on the roof.
There’s a trellis on the east side of the mansion that I’ve seen Sean use for absolutely no fucking reason other than that he likes to do things the hard way. It looks sturdy enough. I grab the wooden slats and start climbing.
The ascent is harder than I expected. My arms are shaking by the time I pull myself over the edge of the roof. Definitely need to work on my upper body strength. Add it to the list of things I’ll deal with later.
A strong hand reaches out to grab my arm and pull me up the rest of the way.
Killian. He’s human again, dressed in clothes that must have been stashed up here at some point.
“You’re going to get hurt,” he mutters, letting go once I’m steady on my knees.
“I was never really a tree climber,” I admit. “More of a bookworm.”
He snorts, moving back to make room.
“Can I sit?”
He doesn’t answer, but he shifts slightly more to the side.
I lower myself onto the cold slate tiles beside him. From up here, I can see the tree line where he disappeared earlier. The garden where everything fell apart. Villeneuve’s property feels like a miniature kingdom, blissfully separate from the rest of campus.
We sit in silence for a while. I don’t know how long, but the sky shifts from purple to deep blue, stars beginning to prick through the darkness.
“I’m sorry,” I say finally once I realize the perfect words aren’t going to come. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”
Killian turns to look at me. In the fading light, his features are hard to read but his eyes are clear. There’s no yellow in them right now, just exhaustion and resignation, which scares me even more.
“I’m not upset at you.”
I blink. “What?”
“I’m upset with myself.” He looks away again, out at the darkening landscape. “For what happened in the garden. For not making you feel like it was safe to tell me.”
“That’s not—“ I stop, choosing my words carefully. “That’s not true, Killian. You’ve never done anything to make me feel unsafe. None of you have.”
“Then why didn’t you tell us?”
The question drops into the pit of my stomach. It’s a fair and simple question, but impossible to answer without admitting something I didn’t want to face.
But I’m done keeping secrets.
“Because I knew you’d attack him,” I say quietly. “But I never should have kept it from you. I should have trusted you, the way you’ve always trusted me, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”
Killian is silent for a long moment.
“And because you care about him.”
I freeze.
“That wasn’t an accusation.” His voice is devoid of any judgment or anger, and so is his gaze when I can finally bring myself to meet it again. “If it’s true, if you’re somehow his mate and ours, it’s natural for you to care about him. Even love him.”
The word love makes my heart twist in my chest. I don’t know what to say. Don’t know what I feel, really, beyond a complicated tangle of emotions I haven’t had time to examine.
“It’s not like what I feel for you,” I manage. “For any of you. I don’t... I don’t know him. I don’t trust him. But...” I trail off, swallowing hard. “One day I might. Maybe. If he ever lets me in. But it’s a moot point, because he clearly doesn’t actually want a mate.”
Killian gives a dry laugh. “He wants you. That much is obvious.”
“Killian…”
“He’s a psycho, but he’s not stupid.” Killian shakes his head. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. One alpha to another, it’s as plain as his god complex.”
“Villeneuve is an alpha?” I echo in disbelief, hating my brain for latching onto that fact out of everything.
He scoffs. “What else? He’s a dragon. Pretty sure they’re all alphas. Which explains why they’re the most dickish species on the planet and fucked themselves into extinction.”
“I guess I can see that,” I murmur.
“If there’s one good thing about alphas, it’s that we know what we want,” he says in a dry tone. “Doesn’t mean we know how to get it.”
I don’t have an argument for that. Villeneuve’s behavior has been confusing from the start, pushing me away with one hand while pulling me closer with the other. But that’s not what matters right now.
“If you’re not upset because of him,” I say slowly, “then why haven’t you come home?”
Killian goes still.
“Because… I almost hurt you out there.” The emotion in his words goes beyond guilt and all the way into self-loathing.
Seems to be going around lately.
“You were confused,” I insist. “Knox showed up, threatened me, and then Villeneuve said what he said. Everything happened so fast…”
“I would never have been confused before.” The words come out sharp and angry, but not at me. “Not like that. Not where I couldn’t tell the difference between a threat and my own mate.”
I reach for him but he pulls away like he always does lately.
“It’s the bite,” he says. “It’s changing me already. I can feel it, Regina.”
“Killian—”
“I’ve been having dreams.” The admission comes out like it’s being dragged from somewhere deep. Somewhere he didn’t want to go. “The same dream, the same nightmare. Over and over. Since before I even woke up from the stasis.”
I wait rather than pushing like I want to, now that he’s finally opening up. Instead, I just sit there with him in the growing darkness, giving him space to find the words.
“I’m hunting you.” His voice is barely above a whisper now. “Through the forest. I can smell you and I know exactly where you are. And I’m—“ He stops and grimaces at whatever movie is playing in his mind’s eye. “I catch you. Every fucking time. And I...”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t have to.
“It was just a dream,” I say, placing my hand on his arm. This time, he doesn’t pull away. “Dreams don’t mean anything.”
“Part of it already happened.” He turns to face me fully, and I see it now, the fear underneath everything else.
The terror of a man who thinks he’s watching himself become a monster.
“In the garden. When I looked at you and smelled your scent and couldn’t remember why I shouldn’t devour you.
That’s how it starts in the dream. That’s how it always fucking starts. ”
“Killian—”
“If I turn,” he interrupts, “if they don’t put me down before that happens, I’ll kill you. I’ve done it a hundred times in that fucking nightmare. I know exactly how it happens. And I can’t...” His voice breaks on the word. “I can’t let that happen. I won’t.”
The weight of what he’s been carrying hits me all at once. All these weeks of distance. All the times he’s pulled away, put space between us, treated himself like a bomb about to go off.
He’s been living in that nightmare. Every day, every hour, watching himself kill me over and over in his dreams, and then waking up to face me with that knowledge burning in him.
And when he’s not living it in his dreams, he’s torturing himself over it, as if any of this is his fault.
I don’t think, I just move. My arms go around him, pulling him close, refusing to let go even when he stiffens.
“Regina…”
“Shut up.”
“Being with me isn’t safe. Touching me isn’t safe.”
“Nope. I said shut up.” I tighten my grip around his neck, press my face against his shoulder.
His familiar bourbon scent wraps around me, comforting in a way I’ve so desperately needed.
We’ve both needed this. “Even if it isn’t safe, I love you.
I love all of you. And a world you aren’t in isn’t worth being in. ”
He’s trembling. I feel it against my body. This massive, powerful alpha wolf is shaking from the restraint of resisting the urge to let his mate comfort him.
But I’m not letting him pull away this time.
“We will find a cure,” I say. “Vyse is working on it. Villeneuve is helping. The pack isn’t giving up and I’m not giving up. So you don’t get to give up either. That’s not how this works.”