Page 129 of Change

The sound of arguments faded away, replaced by the angry buzzing of a thousand bees, growing louder and louder until I thought my head might burst from the sound of it.

There was no way to know how much time had passed. The pinnacle of my existence had been narrowed down to ash and breath. It felt like I’d swallowed a handful of dirt, and every wavering inhale was a struggle. Movements echoed and touch was pain, and, before long, heavy hands dug into my arms.

The ground moved from under me, and the blazing floor became a shocking cold. My teeth clattered, not even the small red blanket from Gloria—which somehow still remained tied around my neck throughout all of this—was enough to keep the chill at bay.

Then the footsteps receded, and the buzzing in my ears suddenly silenced.

“Where are you?”

The question hung heavy in my blank thoughts. The sound was deep and melodious—otherworldly.

There was only one who had the audacity. Especially after abandoning me already.

“Mu?” My voice sounded strange, not as deep, but definitely more masculine, and I was startled as his name echoed through the vast nothingness, where everything was gray and empty.

A place where nothing could grow.

An orange glow began to lighten the skies, and all around me, as far as the eye could see, it was barren and cold. I studied my hands—my fingers were long and thin, and nails chipped and dirty, especially in contrast to my usually delicate manicures. My knuckles were rough, and there were calluses on my fingers.

These couldn’t beMu’shands though; he’d never be anything but refined.

I was so tired, and it was so hard to stand. Was this me? “Mu?”

“Why are you saying your own name?” The other speaker’s voice weaved through the air, coming from nowhere and everywhere. My robes swished around my feet as I tried to locate the origin of the sound. “You’re fading,” he continued. “Tell me where you are, and I’ll come.”

“I…” I pressed my hands to my throat—my voice was my own again; I held my hand out in front of me to confirm that my fingers were, once again, my own. “I don’t know.”

I didn’t know a lot of things. Where I was, what was happening, and even if it would ever be okay again.

I wasn’t strong enough to keep living this way.

“Who are you?” I asked, wiping my eyes. “Whereare you?”

“I’m Jin,” he replied. “I can feel you, but I don’t know where you are.”

“Titus?” I was unable to hold back my tears any longer, and my stomach churned with sick. “I’m tired.” I sniffled, covering my face. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to go home.”

I wanted my fuzzy bean bag chair, my overindulgent bed, and the too-cutesy paintings that I was pretty sure that Damen had drawn for me on the ceiling.

I’d give anything just to be able to lay in my room again, or to hear the boys fight while playing chess. I wanted to see Miles, and we could finally bake something together. And Julian, who gave me the gentle support I needed. And, since it seemed to make him happy, I’d make sure to give Brayden a super hard research assignment, and maybe even have a coffee-date with Finn since we were friends again.

Bryce still owed me ice cream.

But that was wishful thinking. None of that would happen. This wasn’t like with Daniel Cole, where I was just trapped. I’d been able to somehow connect with Mu and free myself.

This was worse. I had no energy left to fight.

You couldn’t get blood from stone.

“Don’t give up!” Titus—or Jin—ordered. “You need to fight. Do what you need to do to get free and find me. Let me take care of the rest.”

“I can’t.” Didn’t he understand? I’d been stretched too thin already.

There was nothing else I could do.

“You can do it.” A dry wind beat against my wet face. “Make use of the resources you have available to you. Get to me.”

Resources? But I was alone with three other shifters, and we were all trapped.