Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore #5)(9)

“Mom.” Leric yawned wide against my forehead, turning to toss an arm over my side and caging me between him and Tristan. “Get. Out.”

She hummed, and even though I couldn’t see her with my face squashed to a muscled chest, I could still feel those eyes of hers staring at us. “As you wish, dear.” I heard a patting noise, and I was pretty sure she was touching his feet. “I love you.”

Leric growled quietly, the sound vibrating against my face. “Love you, too.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Damon,” I murmured. I wasn’t even ashamed to admit I was frightened by this woman.

“Now she’s polite.” She gave no returned pleasantries. “Well, goodnight.”

Another flash of white blazed inside the room as she finally left us.

Leric sighed, lifted his arm from me and tilted a little to click off the bedside lamp, then flopped his arm back over me. “Sprite, try to forget that ever happened.”

My voice was muffled against his bare skin. “That is not something easily forgotten.”

He kicked a heavy leg over both of mine, practically using me as a body pillow. “Just don’t tell Roselle or Reese. They’ll never let me live it down.”





Chapter Five

Standing outside my door at the lodge in the predawn hours, I didn’t want to enter.

I was positive what I would find. It had happened a few times in the past, when one of us couldn’t deal with the other being with someone else, or simply if we needed time away when our relationship—our fate—became too real.

And, if I was honest with myself, by staying in Leric’s room last night and avoiding Sin as I had done, I had been silently asking for this.

It didn’t make it any easier, though.

Growing up. The reality of our lives. The reality of our decisions.

It was enough to drown anybody who had a damned heart.

My throat was already constricting as I opened the door.

The room was unnervingly silent, confirming my assumption.

Next to where Isolde lay sleeping, I found the note on top of my pillow. Biting the inside of my lip, tears welling, I lifted the envelope as my chin trembled. When my legs gave out from standing frozen so long, I sat heavily on the bed. My name was written in Sin’s untidy scrawl. I loved his messy scrawl.

One cold tear fell.

Then another.

Another.

Jaw clenching, I opened the note as my shoulders began to shake.

Love,

I have to go. It’s time again.

I thought for a brief moment there you may have wanted to change the decision we made. But you didn’t ask. I have my own fear—you aren’t alone in it—of hurting you if I ever found my mate, so I didn’t ask either. Maybe this is for the best right now. I only wish you the most happiness this life can give you, and we’ve decided time and time again by our silence that your happiness is not with me. Not now, anyway.

If you need me, you can find me through the normal channel.

All the love I have to give,

Sin



Lips pinched, I hunched, my whole body shaking as a gut-wrenching sob tore from my throat. With my heart squeezing like a Shifter was clawing it from my chest, tears of failure and loss fell. I clutched his letter, held it close. So damn close. Curling on the bed, I scooted Isolde aside and stuffed my face against Sin’s pillow, smelling the remnants of his herbal shampoo and earthy scent as I let our life choices hammer my body in brutal, unyielding pain.

This suffering…it would never end. Never.

I swallowed harshly on a scratchy throat when a banging erupted in the hallway. A deep voice demanded my door be opened. With my chest jolting from uneven hiccups, I rolled from my bed in a daze, not bothering to wipe my face; the tears assaulted my cheeks in a stream of torture, and I wouldn’t attempt to squelch them. This was my life.

Uncaring I was a wreck, I opened my door with Sin’s letter still clutched in my hand.

King Collins stood with his right arm raised, as if mid-knock.

His furious expression quickly blanked as his brown eyes scanned my appearance.

“Sin’s gone,” I wailed, unable to stop the sound of heartache gripping me.

My King shot forward as I collapsed in front of him, more sobs racking my frame. He grabbed me under my arms, hefting me into his strong hold as he hastily entered the room and kicked the door shut with his left foot. “Shh,” he hushed softly, striding quickly to lay me on the bed. I bowed in on myself, lying in the fetal position. He gently rubbed my back and brushed the sticking hair off my splotchy face. My tears never stopped, and his voice was so tender. “What do you mean he’s gone?”

I lifted the letter, now wrinkled from my tight grip. When he took it from my hand, I clutched the bedsheets instead. There was no containing the agony I was in. I choked and turned my face into the softness of Sin’s pillow, weeping unrelentingly, barely hearing as King Collins straightened the paper and began to read.

He whispered, “I see.”

Wood creaked when he placed the letter inside the bedside table drawer, then he was lifting the blanket over me, tucking me in tight. My heart continued to constrict, squeezing hideously, the pain unyielding. He brushed one of his hands lightly over my head, petting me in soothing strokes that gave no reprieve, and his lips gently pressed against my temple.