48. Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Eight
Elowen Briar
The End Of Elowen Briar and a Quick Flash of Light
Istumble into the car, clutching my keys in my hand so tightly the metal digs into my palm. I jam them into the ignition, the engine growling to life. My hands are shaking as I force the car into gear and lurch forward out of the parallel space.
Sobs tear out of me in ragged bursts, filling the silence with ugly, broken sounds.
I can barely see through the tears streaking down my face, but I can’t stop.
My body won’t allow it. The street rolls past in blurs of light and shadow evenly.
Headlights smear into long white ribbons, red taillights glow like embers in the distance.
I drive with no destination, just away, as far away as I can get.
Her words claw at me, looping over and over until I feel raw from the inside out. Would your little personal human piece like to join us? Then, Human. Bite. The way she said it, like I was prey.
Beau’s voice follows, deeper, colder. You are not my mate.
You never will be. My chest aches, the sobs tumbling harder.
Mate. Courting. That strange way he spoke to me, like I was precious, like I was something to be claimed.
And I let myself believe it was romantic.
I was going to be his dinner for fuck sake.
I slam my palm against the wheel, the sound sharp in the dark.
“What the fuck was that?” My voice cracks, swallowed by another wave of sobs.
Images collide in my head: the shards of glass glittering across the floor, Kalevala’s smile too wide, Beau’s hand snapping around her wrist like steel.
The way he laughed about the word human for the past couple months.
The way he nipped my ear and grazed my neck but never drew blood.
God, blood. The word makes me choke harder on the sound tearing from my throat.
I continue to drive. Ten minutes, fifteen, maybe more.
The sobbing won’t stop, every turn of the wheel met with another rush of tears, another jagged memory I can’t outrun.
I clench the steering wheel deeper into my palm as if I might lose control any second now.
The road wavers under me as a quickly approaching horn blares. Headlights slice straight into me through the windshield. I yank the wheel, tires shrieking against slick asphalt. The car spins, metal screaming against metal, and the world tilts.
Then, everything goes black. The last sound that clings to me is the faint rise of sirens, somewhere behind me, somewhere too late.
I cry out from inside my head, “Please, no. Not yet. My baby. Genie, mommy loves you. Imani, oh my god, I need you.” To no avail, the pitch black now surrounding me stays, sucking me in deeper, refusing to let me go.