Page 22 of Loving Amari

He starts to walk away, but I grab his hand. My fingers wrap around his wrist, feeling his pulse hammer beneath my touch.

He stops. Doesn’t turn around at first. Just stands there with his back to me, shoulders rigid. Every line of his body is tense.

“How long have I been gone this time?”

Slowly, he turns. The look on his face guts me. Sadness. Resignation. Exhaustion.

“Another three days.”

Three days. Three whole days.

“No, no, no, no. I missed it. I missed your opening of the technology center for the academy.”

The technology center. The project he’s been working on for months. The pride in his voice every time he talked about it. The way his eyes lit up when he showed me the plans. How he wanted me there beside him.

And I wasn’t there.

Amari shrugs. The casual gesture is worse than if he’d yelled. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“But it is.”

“It really isn’t.” He says it so flatly. So matter-of-fact. Like he’s already accepted this. Accepted being second. Accepted that I’ll always disappear right when he needs me most.

He gently pulls his arm away from me. The loss of contact nearly breaks my heart. His hand slips from mine slowly, deliberately. Like he’s practiced this. Letting go.

“Go take your shower. There’s more important issues now than my silly ideas.”

Silly ideas. He called his passion, his vision, his work—silly ideas.

“Silly ideas?—”

But he’s already gone. Vampire speed carries him away before I can finish. Before I can tell him that nothing about him is silly. That I’m so sorry. That I’d give anything to have been there.

The space where he stood feels empty. Cold.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Oh, shut up.” The words come out choked.

I push past Aya, heading for the stairs. My feet pound against each step, carrying me up to my floor. Magic spills from my fingers before I consciously call it, opening the doors to my room with more force than necessary. They slam against the walls.

The bathroom. I need the bathroom.

Movement in my peripheral vision stops me. Moria and Kemnebi emerging from the vents, their legs moving in that careful way that means something’s wrong.

“Where have you been?”

Images flood my mind. The void of limbo. But not the parts I know. Somewhere deeper, darker. Lost souls. Hundreds of them. Thousands. A seething mass of rage and hunger, all moving in one direction.

Toward me.

Moria and Kemnebi tearing through them. Vertro at the door, his massive body blocking it, pounding against wood and magic to reach me. To protect me from an army I didn’t even know existed.

“See, I told you I was right about the army.”

I gasp and start pacing. My hands shake as I run them through my hair. Back and forth across the room. The walls feel like they’re closing in.

Why didn’t Tabatha say anything? Why didn’t she warn me?