Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Everything is as I left it.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, reaching out with my mind and searching for anything that might be wrong energetically.
But every corner of the house is clean.
“It’s all good. You were right.”
“I’m glad.” He kisses my head. “Go pack up your things. I’m going back to the bedroom to pack up the last of the things I have here. I might as well take them home and wash them. I can bring them back.”
“Good idea.”
With a nod, he walks down the hall to the bedroom, and I turn to grab a box from the hall closet, when suddenly, I hear the music.
And it’s more beautiful than ever.
Chapter Seventeen
Xander
Half of the clothes are clean, and half are dirty, so I toss them all into the hamper because I’ll just wind up washing them all together.
It’s easiest.
I have no idea how I ended up leaving so much here in such a short time.
I realize that Lorelei didn’t grab her pillow the other day, so I pick that up, along with the baby blanket under it.
She’ll want these.
After I skim the area to quickly assess if we should take anything else with us for now, I carry the hamper out to the living area.
“I think I have everything from back there. I didn’t realize you didn’t take your pillow and the blanket, so I grabbed that, too.”
I glance around but quickly realize that I’m alone in the house.
And the front door is standing open.
“Lora!” Just to be sure, I quickly run through the other rooms of the small house and then straight out the front door. My heart is hammering, the blood in my ears rushing, and I absolutely refuse to let my mind torment me with the possibilities of what’s happening.
For all I know, she just took some stuff out to the car.
But deep down, I know that’s not the case.
I make myself stop to scan the area. It’s dark, but I can see the shoreline, the cliffs down that shoreline, and then I see Lorelei standing at the top of those cliffs, her dress billowing in the wind around her. My heart falters.
Immediately, I shift into my wolf form and run down the sand at top speed, not caring at all that the sharp rocks tear at my feet. My only concern is getting to her. Fast.
When I’m roughly twenty feet away, I slow and shift back into the man so I can pull her out of the trance I can see she’s in.
“Lorelei.”
She turns to look back at me, her dress continuing to flow around her, the waves crashing up high. On any other day, this would be a gorgeous photo.
Today, it’s terrifying.
“Snap out of it, baby.”
Unfortunately, she ignores me and turns back to the water. She steps forward as if to throw herself over the side, and I rush at her, wrap my arms around her, and pull her back to safety.
She’s crying. Not wailing, screaming cries, but silent tears that roll down her cheeks.
“Let me go,” she says. “It’s so beautiful. I want to go.”
“No.” I turn her to me and shake her shoulders roughly. “Listen to me. Look at me, Lorelei.”
But her stare is empty.
I’ve never felt as useless as I have these past few weeks. First, her car accident, and now this.
“Lorelei. Love. Heart of my heart.” I make myself calm down and rest my forehead against hers. She immediately calms, but we’re not out of the woods yet. “Please. Come back to me now. Don’t let it have the satisfaction of seeing you like this. You’re the strongest person I know, Lorelei. Come on.”
She sighs, grips my waist, and I know she’s back. It’s as if a switch has been flipped.
“Xander?”
“I’m taking you home.” Grimly, I pick her up and carry her back to the cottage. “What do you need to take with you? Were you able to gather anything?”
“I—” She shakes her head. “My altar. Some stones and shells.”
“Let’s get them. Because we’re not coming back here until this is all over.”
“I can walk.”
I set her down and am so fucking proud of her when she raises her chin and walks into her house, slamming the door behind us.
“I’m so sick of this shit,” she mutters as she starts to fill a box with her things. I notice her fingers are shaking, but I don’t comment on it.
She needs to get through the next ten minutes. Then, once I get her home, she can fall apart.
“I want this terrarium,” she says, passing it to me. “And these shells. Oh, I need a couple of books.”
She hustles back to her office and returns with much more than a couple of books. I take them from her.
“I have my grandmother’s grimoire there. I should have taken it before.”
“We have it now,” I assure her. “What else?”