Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“Shut up,” I mutter under my breath. “I don’t have a mate.”
“You do and it’s high time that you start trying to address that situation instead of avoiding it. Seven’s not going to go away just because part of you may want him to.”
“All of me wants him to go,” I argue. “He lied and took advantage of me and let’s not forget he’s probably some kind of a monster. I haven’t even asked what he is exactly.”
“And why do you think that is?” Lucy asks, reminding me of a therapist for the fiftieth time this week—at least.
“Because I don’t care.” My answers remind me of a petulant child. I don’t really care about that either or at least I don’t want to. My head is a freaking mess.
“I think you’re being the bigger liar here, Grace.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I deny.
“I think it’s because you’re afraid.”
“Don’t you have a mate of your own to go irritate?” I ask. The words fly from my mouth before I can stop myself. Lucy sighs and the lonesome, almost heartbreaking sound grabs my attention. “I’m sorry, Lucy. That wasn’t nice, but what’s wrong?”
“I’m here because it’s nice that someone can finally see me and I’m not killing them,” Lucy says, although her eyes are settled on the sky.
“What?” I ask, frowning. That doesn’t make sense.
“Being around my mate and talking to him when he can’t touch or feel me is slowly killing him. I see it happening and I have no idea what to do about it. There’s anger growing inside of him because he can’t figure out how to save me. I’m worried what he’s going to do. I know he’s getting desperate.” Lucy says it all as if she’s confessing like this is her fault, but I can see it. When I really look at her, I can see the slump in her shoulders, the worry in her eyes.
“We will have to figure out what’s going on and fix you then,” I tell her.
“Good luck. My mate has the sharpest scientific mind in any world I’ve seen, and he’s not been able to fix this.”
“Well, I can see you so that has to mean the two of us have some kind of connection. We can build on that. Oracle says I’m not a normal human and you keep insisting it too. Maybe I’m the same or similar to what you were. When you were completely you, I mean. We can work together to retrace your footsteps and find a way to bring you back.”
Lucy laughs. “You mean you want to bring me back from the dead?”
I stare at her, scowling at her laughing at me trying to help. “You don’t look dead. Your skin has beautiful color. You don’t seem like you’re haunting me. I refuse to believe that the best friend that I’ve ever had is dead. Between you, Ettie, and I, we can figure it out.”
“Do you really think so?” I hear the tremor of hope in Lucy’s voice.
“Yes, I do,” I tell her.
“That could take some time. Does that mean you are going to stick around?” Lucy asks pointedly with a smile knowing she’s got me right back to the beginning.
Before I can respond, the door opens to reveal Seven standing there.
“Grace isn’t going anywhere. She belongs with us—with me.”
Lucy grins, standing to leave. “The mate has finally come to claim his woman. I’ll just be leaving.”
32
#7
STARK
Grace looks over at the seemingly empty lawn chair next to her. “No, Lucy you don’t need to go anywhere. Seven won’t be staying, and he sure won’t be claiming anything either-least of all me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I tell her as I walk farther into the room. “And I don’t care if your friend stays or leaves, but it may get embarrassing for you if only you can see the audience.”
I watch her wringing her hands. Her cheeks flush as her eyes track what I can’t see. I know I’ve made her nervous. It’s a relief to see her. It’s been too fucking long. It feels like I’ve finally found water after dying of thirst. I drink her in. I can feel the pain from not seeing my mate slowly leave me.
Grace stands, crossing her arms at her waist. “You need to leave.”
“No. I’ve given you space, but I can’t continue to do that anymore. We need to sort this out,” I insist.
“What good will that do? It’s not like we ever had a real relationship,” Grace argues.
I step toward her, holding her shoulders. The need to touch her was too strong to resist. I want to make sure she hears what I’m saying. I have to make her understand.
“You’re wrong, Gracie. It was real. Every moment we spent together was real. The night we had our first date in this room, was completely real.”