Chapter 29 Ashton #2
Haunting her. The words tear through me, unsettling and foreign.
I’d kept away. I had left her alone, tried to forget her even if I knew it was impossible.
Yet the image of Dove afraid, looking over her shoulder, desperate for peace, grates against every protective instinct in me.
I let her go because I couldn’t bear to see her hurt again.
Because I thought it would free her from the danger I had brought.
“I don’t understand,” I say, my voice cracking despite my efforts to keep it steady. “I haven’t sent anything. I haven’t followed her. Christina, I swear I’ve left her alone.”
Christina’s eyes flash, a glint of sorrow hidden behind her fury. “Then who is it, Ashton? Who’s been sending the letters? Who’s leaving those balloons? You think you broke her heart, and that’s where it ends? She’s unraveling, and whatever you set in motion isn’t stopping.”
My breath catches, and suddenly the house feels too quiet, like every shadow is hiding a secret I can’t reach.
The balloons, the letters—I had let her go to protect her, to keep the darkness away.
Had it all been for nothing? Had I just pushed her further into the nightmare I tried so desperately to shield her from?
Christina’s voice softens, though the edge is still there.
“She still loves you, you know. She doesn’t understand any of this, why you did what you did, but she loves you.
And it’s tearing her apart.” She swipes a hand across her face, her voice choked with unshed tears.
“If you’re not going to be the one to fix this, then, for God’s sake, let her be.
Because whatever’s happening, she can’t survive much more of it. ”
Her words hang in the air, a cruel reminder of everything I’ve lost. I look away, jaw clenched, as I battle against the overwhelming ache I’ve been trying to ignore. If someone else is tormenting her, following her, then my sacrifice meant nothing.
Christina’s voice drops to a broken whisper. “She’s barely holding on, Ashton. Do something, or let her go for real.”
Christina’s words were like knives, each one sharper than the last. I stood in the doorway, letting her rage wash over me, each accusation and truth hitting me harder than I thought possible.
My heart hammered in my chest, but I kept my face blank, kept my body steady.
Yet, when Christina mentioned the shadows, the feeling of being watched. My own pulse faltered.
“It’s not just the balloons and letters,” she hissed, her voice raw with pain and fury.
“It’s the shadows, Ashton. Dove’s been seeing them everywhere.
She feels like she’s constantly being watched, like someone’s always just out of reach, lurking.
She hardly sleeps, afraid someone’s going to be there the second she closes her eyes.
Every creak, every whisper of wind—she’s terrified. ”
A chill ran down my spine. Shadows, the feeling of being watched…
it couldn’t be Lilith, could it? She’d always relished making others feel her presence, turning her obsession into something tactile, something people could feel even in her absence.
And Dove—I’d thought letting her go would mean letting her find peace, but it seemed that all I’d done was plunge her into another kind of nightmare.
“What kind of notes?” I asked, my voice low and tight, though inside, every nerve was on fire. I had to know, needed every detail. “The balloons… did they say anything specific?”
Christina’s anger faltered for a moment, a flicker of sadness flashing across her face as if reliving Dove’s pain.
“One of them said, ‘Did you miss me?’ Another, ‘You can’t escape me.’ They kept coming, always there when she thought she was alone.
And the worst part? Sometimes, she could smell your cologne, Ashton.
She told me it was like you were still there, haunting her.
” Her voice cracked. “Every shadow she saw, every whisper of you, it just… it destroyed her.”
I clenched my fists, the icy resolve cracking. My own cologne? Lilith had access to everything in my life, knew how to twist the knife in my absence. The realization twisted my gut. Letting Dove go had only made her a new kind of prey for Lilith.
“So, where is she now?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper, though the fury inside me was barely contained.
Christina’s eyes blazed with anger again.
“Where you left her, Ashton. She’s barely left the house since she got back.
I can barely convince her to get out of bed for some days.
She’s broken, you understand? Shattered.
And every time she catches her reflection, she doesn’t see herself.
She sees what you made her into—a shadow, a shell of who she was. ”
The words tore through me, but I didn’t let myself flinch. I held her gaze, letting every word sink in, letting me absorb the weight of my failure. I’d been so sure I was protecting her by staying away, yet here was the truth. I hadn’t saved her; I’d led her into a darker place.
“I didn’t know…” my voice cracked, raw with regret. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to control the tremble in my fingers. “I thought letting her go was the right thing. I thought it would keep her safe.”
Christina scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “You thought wrong, Ashton. You let her go, and she’s still haunted by you—by whatever nightmare this is. So if you didn’t do this, if you didn’t send those things, then you need to find out who did. Because she can’t live like this.”
The weight of it all crashed over me, the guilt, the fury, the helplessness.
I’d tried to keep her safe, tried to sever the ties that bound us, and now I knew it had been for nothing.
If Lilith was still haunting her, still finding ways to break Dove in my absence, then I hadn’t done enough.
I’d have to go deeper, face Lilith myself, even if it meant risking everything.
Christina’s gaze softened slightly as she watched me, as if some small part of her could see the turmoil raging inside me. “Just… do something. Make this right. She deserves peace, Ashton. She deserves to finally be free.”
Without another word, she turned and left me standing alone, her words echoing in the stillness of my empty mansion. The reality was sharp, like cold steel twisting in my chest. I’d failed Dove in every possible way. And now, whatever it took, whatever demons I’d have to face—I’d make it right.