Auren emerges from the hospital entrance, one pale wrist bandaged in white gauze. He clutches it close to his chest like a wounded bird, his lavender hair falling in artful disarray across his forehead, framing eyes that appear enormous in his delicate face.
He stumbles as he steps out into the night, and Emily’s hand steadies his elbow, her fingers curled around the fabric of his sleeve.
She says something to him, too quiet for me to hear over the rain. But her hold on him is gentle.
My stomach drops, a physical plunge as if the ground beneath me has given way.
Auren leans into her touch, his body curving toward hers, seeking protection. From this distance, he appears pale as moonlight, as if he might collapse at any moment.
The pair moves forward, Emily shortening her stride to match his limping pace. Rain pelts them as soon as they leave the cover of the entrance. Auren flinches at the first drops, a full-body recoil that has Emily drawing him closer, her arm now around his waist.
My fingernails bite into my palms, the pain distant compared to the tight band constricting my chest.
They pass beneath a security light, illuminationwashing over them in stark relief. Water beads on Emily’s jacket, soaking through the fabric. She tilts her head close to Auren, listening as his lips move. His free hand gestures in the air, fingers dancing through the raindrops.
For a heartbeat, Emily’s head turns toward me. I freeze, certain she’ll spot me standing in the shadows of the walkway. But her eyes never find me, sliding past as she focuses on guiding Auren to her truck.
Emily unlocks the passenger door and opens it, bracing it with her hip as she helps Auren climb in. Her hand cups the back of his head, protecting him from bumping it on the frame.
The gesture cuts through me. Such care. Such tenderness.
Auren settles into the seat, wet and shivering. Emily reaches behind the seat and pulls out the blanket she keeps for emergencies and unfolds it with a snap of her wrists, the fabric billowing in the night air before settling around Auren.
She tucks the edges in close, ensuring that no draft will reach him while leaving herself exposed, rain plastering her hair to her scalp and neck.
From my position, I catch a glimpse of Auren’s expression as she leans over him. His lids droop,lips curving into a self-satisfied smile so brief it might be imagined.
Emily closes his door with care, then hurries to the driver’s side, splashing through puddles that reflect her silhouette in broken pieces. She climbs in, and the interior light captures them in a tableau of Auren small and wounded, Emily strong and protective, the ideal vision of Alpha and Omega.
The engine growls to life, headlights cutting twin paths through the darkness, and the wipers sweep the windshield, clearing the rain in rhythmic arcs.
I should step forward and wave her down. Ask where she’s taking him.
But my feet remain rooted to the concrete, cold water seeping into my shoes. The truck reverses out of its spot, turns, and pulls away.
Only when the taillights disappear around the corner do my muscles unlock. Rain soaks through my jacket, my hair, running in rivulets down my face. The cold penetrates deeper now, but it’s nothing compared to the chill that’s taken hold inside me.
What was I expecting? For her to spot me and walk away from Auren? For some instinct to kick in and pull her toward me instead?
A nurse hurries past, scrubs rustling beneathher raincoat, keys jangling in her hand. She gives me a curious look, but doesn’t stop.
The security guard returns, slowing as he spots me still standing there, soaked through. “You waiting for someone?”
“No.” The word makes the ache in my heart worse. “They already left.”
He continues his rounds, leaving me alone. I should find shelter and call another riseshare.
But what would be waiting for me at Emily’s cottage? I don’t think I could bear to return and find Auren in my room, reclaiming his space.
So instead, I turn toward the street, away from the hospital, putting one foot in front of the other, each step carrying me in the direction of the waterfront.
Street lamps cast pools of yellow light on empty sidewalks, the wet concrete reflecting their glow. My shoes squeak with each step, and the night air fills my lungs with the tang of the ocean, growing stronger as I approach the harbor.
I have nowhere specific to go, so I keep moving, as if motion itself might outpace the image burned into my mind of Emily’s hand on Auren’s head, guiding him into her truck with such care.
Storefronts stand dark and shuttered, the streets deserted at this hour, with most of Pinecrest tuckedaway in warm beds. A cat darts across an alley, its shadow stretching and compressing beneath a flickering light.
My thoughts cycle in endless loops. How could I have been so stupid? The workshop, the kiss, the confession— All of it meaningless compared to the years Emily spent with Auren. Their bond, toxic as it might be, runs deeper than anything she and I have built in these few short weeks.