Of course the universe had decided my anxiety needed architectural support.
“Let’s burn that place down, my love,” I said to Eden.
Urged, really.
My voice came out rougher than I wanted, but I did not have enough control left to polish it. Eden stood in the mouth of the exit tunnel, gold still crawling over Perse’s skin, her chest rising and falling with long, heavy breaths. She was furious. She was magnificent. She was also exhausted, even if the wolf was pretending otherwise.
Perse’s body had been tortured, drugged, frozen, cut open in ways I had not yet let myself fully imagine, and then Eden had dragged it through a war.
She should have been in a bed.
She should have been under blankets.
She should have been somewhere warm with Penny’s hand in hers and a doctor who did not deser
