CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX || THIERRY
I had never truly seen it before—not like this—but Jeremy was stunning.
Not merely handsome or strong or sexy, but achingly, hauntingly beautiful.
His rugged face held curves and shadows I could spend lifetimes memorizing, if only I were allowed the chance.
His eyes, though closed now, were piercing and dark blue, deep as the ocean.
And his hair—gods, how had I never noticed the strands of red mixed with the dozen shades of gold that caught the light just so?
It had been hours. Many, many hours since the bond had gone silent.
If Jeremy still existed anywhere at all, I couldn’t tell.
His mind was no longer pressed to mine. No comforting hum of thought, no reminder that his heart still beat, that he was still there.
Strange, wasn’t it? How afraid I had been of opening myself to him in the beginning, of being vulnerable.
Now I would have traded anything I had to bring that vulnerability back.
I held his hand long after it went cold.
His pack gathered first, an hour before dawn. They came in human form, dressed, some carrying white, glass-encased candles. The flames danced against the dark. Reed must have shifted back and told them what had happened. I hadn’t even noticed him leave.
They didn’t try to take Jeremy from me. Instead, they sat in a wide circle around us.
No one spoke. There was only the sound of weeping.
Emma sobbed openly. She had helped raise him, had guided him when he first became alpha.
Her tears made perfect sense. Lindsey, too, her broken sobs shredding the silence.
And behind me, one man’s ragged breathing gave him away—he was crying without sound.
Reed, most likely. Jeremy’s best friend since childhood.
I didn’t look up.
I couldn’t.
If I did, it would all become real. That Jeremy was gone, and his pack had come to grieve him. I knew they would share that grief with me if I let them. I was a vampire, yes, but I had brought their alpha back to them. Only for him to—
No.
I didn’t let myself finish that thought.
Eventually, the sobs quieted. Only breathing remained—these beautiful, mortal creatures who had once loved my mate.
Simone and Poppy joined me first—they were already nearby. Nathaniel and Ethan came later, sometime before sunrise.
They stayed close but said nothing. What could they say?
Nathaniel pressed a steady hand against my back before sitting. It nearly undid me, almost causing the burning in my eyes to spill over. I blinked it away furiously. The only man I had ever willingly let myself cry in front of was gone.
Nathaniel sat across from me, Ethan beside him, their fingers laced.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Poppy draw Simone into her arms, holding her for a long while.
Strange, to think Simone needed comfort.
She had seen empires rise and fall. So had I, for that matter.
But age never dulls emotion. It only sharpens the ache of what could have been.
Michael, Danny, and Rico arrived shortly after sunrise. Godric a few minutes later. Even weakened by the light—with their eyes burning, every muscle aching, their skin feeling stretched too tight across their bones—they stayed.
Michael lowered himself beside me, his hand gripping mine. “Bryan and Tobias are on their way,” he whispered, too soft for even the wolves’ ears. “They left as soon as I called.”
I nodded, unable to speak.
When the sun reached its highest point in the sky and the clearing grew too bright to bear, Poppy murmured a spell. Branches rustled high above, the canopy weaving itself shut, and the shade returned. Another gift to me, that the sunlight needn’t interrupt my vigil.
Jeremy lay as if sleeping. Peaceful.
Newborn vampires usually rose within a matter of hours. Four or five, at most.
It had been the entire night and most of the day. How many hours was that? Too many.
My blood had healed his wounds before, the way it could any mortal creature. But that didn’t mean it would turn him. Humans always turned. But wolves? Never. If it had ever happened, I had never heard of it.
As the sun sank again, despair settled like a stone in my chest.
Some of the pack drifted away. Simone coaxed Poppy back with her. Nathaniel and Ethan followed. Michael didn’t move a muscle, nor did Danny.
They all returned later, though I couldn’t say how long they had been gone. Time had ceased to matter, except that every second he didn’t stir made the dread inside me heavier.
Night fell again. I half-heard Poppy speaking with a man—Daniel, perhaps, the pack’s warlock. I didn’t lift my head to listen. Nothing they said mattered.
Nothing mattered at all.
It had been twenty-four hours.
Had I been reckless, after all these years, to finally let someone in? Would I spend eternity regretting it? Was the pain that was coming worth the short time I had known him? Or was it worse now, knowing the rest of my endless life would always be haunted by what might have been?
I had asked myself the same question about Nicolas for centuries. Was it worth it to have loved him so fiercely, if it ended the way it had?
Was the all-consuming grief I would soon feel a fair trade for knowing Jeremy?
A memory struck me, sudden and sharp as a blow.
“I’m not good for anyone, Jeremy. I haven’t been in a long time.”
“You know what? I’m not entirely sure I need you to be ‘good.’ Or to be anything at all. I think just having you next to me might be enough.”
That was only one of a hundred ways he had seen me— truly seen me—and accepted me.
With him, I hadn’t needed to perform. I hadn’t needed to be strong or stoic.
I hadn’t needed to be anything but myself.
And somehow that had been enough. He had loved me that way, simply and radically.
Not for what I could be, or for what he wanted me to be, but precisely as I was.
Nicolas had loved me like that, too.
And now, after all these years, I finally had my answer.
Yes. It was worth it. It was all worth it.
With Jeremy’s cool and unmoving hand in mine, and Michael holding my other, I let the tears I had been holding spill at last.
“Come back to me,” I whispered, my voice more broken and ragged than I had ever heard it before. “Please come back to me.”
The only reply was the stillness and silence of the night.