Chapter 17
Seventeen
The cold metal of the dumbbell felt good against my palm, grounding me in the way nothing else could. The rhythmic sound of weights clinking, the sharp tang of sweat and iron—it was the closest I got to peace these days. But even here, the bond hummed faintly, like a whisper in the back of my mind I couldn’t shake.
Ciaran’s face kept flashing behind my eyelids. The hollow look in his eyes the last time I saw him. The way he slumped in his seat that day, his voice quieter than usual when he tried to talk about her.
You told him to stop. You shut him down.
I gritted my teeth and lifted the dumbbell higher, ignoring the tightening in my chest. He was talking about Lily, like we hadn’t all silently agreed to bury that along with her body. I’d thought shutting him down was the right call at the time—protecting him from the spiral I’d been teetering on myself.
And now he’s gone.
The weight dropped to the ground with a thud, the sound echoing across the empty gym. My breathing was ragged, my chest heaving as I glared at the mirrored wall in front of me. My reflection stared back, disheveled and drenched in sweat, but all I could see was failure. I should’ve done more. Said more. Listened.
The air felt heavier than usual, pressing against my skin as I grabbed a towel and wiped my face. My phone buzzed on the bench nearby, the notification lighting up the screen. A group message. Lucian’s name at the top.
I didn’t even read it. I couldn’t. The thought of their voices, of hearing Kael’s snide remarks or Lucian’s arrogant attempts to keep us “together,” made my stomach churn. They don’t care about Ciaran—not really. Not like I do.
I shoved the phone into my bag and slung it over my shoulder, the gym suddenly suffocating. The cold night air hit me like a slap as I stepped outside, the quiet campus streets stretching before me. I walked with no destination in mind, letting the bond’s muted hum pull me aimlessly.
Every shadow felt like it was watching me. Every creak of the wind sounded like a voice. My thoughts raced, chaotic and unrelenting.
He reached out. You ignored him.
I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms. The weight of guilt churned in my stomach, twisting tighter with every step. Why didn’t I help? Why didn’t I do more?
The campus was empty this time of night, the buildings dark except for the occasional hallway light spilling through high windows. I avoided the main paths, sticking to the side alleys and narrow walkways that felt less exposed. The darkness wrapped around me like a second skin, heavy and stifling.
A flicker of movement at the edge of my vision made me stop. I turned sharply, my eyes scanning the empty space behind me, but there was nothing. Just the faint rustle of branches in the breeze and the muted hum of a nearby streetlamp. My pulse quickened as I stood there, frozen, half-expecting something to step out of the shadows.
Paranoid now?
I forced my feet to move, my pace quickening as I headed toward the library. Its warm lights were a beacon in the cold, and I pushed through the glass doors without hesitation, the faint scent of old books and worn carpet enveloping me. My footsteps echoed softly as I made my way through the aisles, weaving between towering shelves until I found a secluded corner.
My hand traced the spines of the books absently, the textures grounding me as I tried to force my thoughts into submission. But the quiet wasn’t soothing—it was oppressive. It pressed against my ears, amplifying the hum of the bond until it felt like it was crawling beneath my skin.
You should’ve died instead of him.
The thought hit me hard, sharp and cutting. My breath hitched, my chest tightening. It’s true, though, isn’t it? He was better than me. Kinder. I just let him drown in this mess while I stood there, too afraid to help.
A book toppled off the shelf and landed at my feet, the sound making me flinch. I stared at it, my stomach churning as I bent to pick it up. The title was faded, the leather cover worn, but the sight of it made my chest constrict. Trauma and Guilt: Unraveling the Psyche.
I tossed it onto the nearest table, my hands trembling as I sank into the chair. The spiral deepened, my thoughts quick and relentless.
You didn’t help him because you didn’t care enough.
You ignored him because you were too much of a coward to face it.
You’ll fail the rest of them too. You’re already failing.
The hum of the bond grew louder, more insistent, like it was pressing against the walls of my skull. My fingers curled into fists against my temples, nails biting into my skin. “Shut up,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “Just shut the fuck up.”
The room felt smaller somehow, the shelves looming over me, the faint flicker of the overhead lights casting jagged shadows on the floor. I shoved myself to my feet, pacing the narrow aisle as the weight in my chest grew heavier.
My mind drifted back to Ciaran, his voice—small and broken—when he asked if I thought she would’ve wanted him to move on even before we met up in the cafe. The way his eyes searched mine for reassurance I didn’t have the strength to give.
You failed him then, and you’ll fail them all in the end.
I froze mid-step, my hands gripping the edge of the nearest shelf to steady myself. The words felt like an inevitability, not a fleeting thought. My breathing was shallow, my heart pounding as the shadows seemed to thicken around me.
Another book fell from the shelf, the sudden noise making me jump. I didn’t pick this one up. I couldn’t. The air felt charged, static crawling over my skin as if the entire library was holding its breath.
The lights flickered once, twice, before plunging me into darkness.