Tessa had been happy in France. It might’ve been the last place she’d been truly happy. Before the beach where she nearly drowned. Before the battle with Astaroth. Before months and months of battles against fey and demons and vampires.
France was the last time I’d seen her carefree.
It was the only time I’d ever seen her carefree and truly at one with herself.
I wanted to go back in time. To relive those two weeks over and over again. But I couldn’t.
And she wasn’t here.
I’d roll over in bed every morning expecting her to be there, and when she wasn’t, the pain was too much.
So I had to leave.
I had to leave.
But I had nowhere else to go.
I was lost.
Too Many Days Missing to Count or Hope or Dream Anymore
* * *
I left France as human and decided it was safer for everyone I came into contact with if I stayed human. I stuck to wilderness mostly, and three days ago, I came across a mountain.
I wasn’t sure what mountain it was or where I was—and it didn’t matter—but I started climbing. I wasn’t sure why I did it. Maybe part of me hoped that if I was high enough in the sky, I could get a direction—a feel—for where Tessa was.
Wandering hadn’t worked. Whatever fate had brought us together the first time wasn’t happening again. I didn’t have magic. There was no one to fight. There was literally nothing for me to do, and I couldn’t make myself come to terms with that.
She was out there, and I had to give up? Go on with my life? How? How was I supposed to do that?
I wasn’t sure what else to do, so I kept climbing until I reached the top. And then I sat amid the snow.
The sun was setting and more snow was falling in a soft blanket around me. I was wearing weather-appropriate attire—an impossibly thick coat, two layers under the snow pants, thermal boots, gloves, hat, scarf. All the things that made my wolf feel like it was suffocating.
The thin air wasn’t helping with that feeling either. Every breath I took seemed harder to take than the one before it. But I was a werewolf. I was strong enough to live in the worst conditions. This wouldn’t kill me.
I was starting to wonder what I was living for. What I was doing. Nothing worked. And I was beginning to question if she was still alive. If she was really my True Mate. Maybe she was only just my mate, and the rest came from how powerful we both were. And if that were true, then she could be dead and I wouldn’t know it.
My wolf was in mourning, and now, finally, I had to admit, so was I.
My bond was gone.
My mate was gone.
But I was still here—still alive—when I should be dead.
When I wanted to be dead.
“It’s much too cold for me to stay here very long.” The voice was familiar and friendly with a tease in his tone.
I’d been alone for the entire climb up, and I would’ve been able to see anyone approaching.
Which meant it could only be one person.
I looked up slowly to see Van. “Feel free to leave.” My tone wasn’t even a quarter as friendly as his had been.
“No.” He sat beside me, but he wasn’t wearing the right gear for it. His pants weren’t thick enough. His coat wasn’t down. He’d freeze before long, if the fey could freeze. “I think we’ve left you alone long enough.”