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“Give me control of our bond,” he repeats insistently while attempting to manipulate it as he does my aura. But this is different; our bond is fraying, the feelings swirling inside Abbie are becoming mine.

I’ve become her, trapped within her psyche. Kyson continues to prompt and coax me. “Whatever you’re doing, you can control Azzy.”

“You used power to get in there. Use it to get out.” His words make no sense because I don’t remember doing anything. Fury swells within me, hot and bitter. It’s directed at her, at her surrender. She made a promise.

“More than my life,” she had said. But this isn’t my life yet. I’m ensnared in a past that belongs to her, not me. We share parts of it, but not every scar.

My gaze sweeps over the room, taking in the walls closing in on me - walls that bear the marks of her self-destruction. “This is not me. This is not Abbie,” I whisper to myself as I close my eyes.

“Breathe, Azzy,” Kyson’s voice floats from somewhere distant.

When I open my eyes again, the walls are transformed. Gone are the haunting images of her deepest fears; now they’re adorned with our shared memories – each one a precious moment we spent together: dancing in the attic during the festival night; playing under the sun when our parents were still with us; painting with the children; an apple fight; and above all, her radiant smile.

As these memories begin to color the room around me, I feel her stir within me, adding memories of her own – Gannon and Tyson; a quaint cottage surrounded by wildflowers and pebble footpaths; and finally, her mother.

Together, we rebuild these walls piece by piece using fragments of happier times – small things worth fighting for until all traces of blood vanish, and only we remain amidst our cherished memories.

“More than my life,” I murmur to her as my heart rate steadies and breath returns to normalcy.

“How are you doing this?” she asks tearfully.

“I have no idea,” I admit through choked sobs as I watch her – whole and beaming back at me. “But it’s time you let go.”

“How?”

“By letting me replace what lies behind it.”

“You can do that?” she asks incredulously, her gaze darting around the room filled with our memories.

“I don’t know, but I feel like I can,” I assure her, raising my hand that begins to glow subtly.

“What are you doing?” she asks as I approach the walls of her mind.

“Reinforcing these memories and overriding the others,” I whisper before pressing my glowing hands against the tiles. Suddenly, a blinding white light engulfs us.

I gasp as reality pulls me back and find myself with my hands on either side of her head. “More than my life,” Abbie whispers back at me, her vibrant green eyes meeting mine.

“Always more,” I reassure her just as something warm trickles down over my lip.

“Azzy?” Abbie’s voice is laced with concern as she reaches out towards my face. That’s when darkness clouds my vision and everything fades away.

Chapter

Thirty

ABBIE

I can’t explain what she’s doing. It makes no sense, and before I know it, Azalea’s eyelids flutter and she passes out. I can feel her in my head, her essence or presence tainting and touching the darkest parts of me, twisting and manipulating. She lifts the weight of my past from me. I feel free. It’s as if I’m no longer trapped in the nightmares I’ve survived and am now merely an observer, dissociated from them. I still remember everything, but the feelings that haunt and trap me are no longer there. It’s as if she has erased those completely.

When she passes out, everyone goes into panic, while all I can do is stare. I think I’ve killed her, but Trey Gannon is quick to whisk me out of there and away from everyone. Yet, I want to check on Azalea. Need to know I haven’t hurt her.

“She is awake, Abbie. Damian just mindlinked me,” Gannon tells me.

I nod, staring at where Tyson lies on the bed, nestled between our pillows.

“You need to shower. You’re covered in blood, and I don’t want Tyson waking up seeing you like this,” Gannon instructs.

It was Tyson we fought over first then Sia. Only recently did I learn that my aunty was Gannon’s true mate… and he killed her. Yet strangely enough, I feel nothing for that woman; hardly remembering her - my mother - who fought back when we left my grandmother’s house.