Page 78 of Will It Hurt?
Aisla
I found Maia and Brodie in the back garden, their hands clasped in an energy circle. A shaft of silvery moonlight fell between them in a perfect arc.
They were both dressed in what I’d begun to think of as our uniform—jet-black ski pants and a parka with the hood pulled up tightly over their hair. Snow fell around them in soft little flakes, landing in the open barrels that Maia had arranged outdoors, waiting to be blessed by the moon.
The smell of tangled herbs was thick in the icy air. Rosemary intertwined with the faintest whisper of lavender—floral, slightly woody, familiar.
Usually, I’d find these scents grounding. I’d take great breaths of them and let the herby notes settle deep in my bones.
Now, however, a dull ache spread through me, wrapping around my lungs like invisible chains. Each beat was sluggish, burdened, as if Belle’s obvious unhappiness had been catching.
Because, with just one look into Belle’s eyes, I had known.
I. Had. Known.
She would not stay.
“How does it feel to be rich?” Maia asked, breaking the energy circle with a final thanks to the moon .
I shrugged. “Fine, I suppose. Good.”
“Fine or good? One sounds worse than the other,” Brodie commented, wiping off the snow that had gathered on the sleeves of his parka.
“I just…”
I glanced at my clasped hands, seeing Belle’s stricken face.
“I don’t think it’s going as planned.”
A sigh tore its way out of me.
“What do you mean?”
Brodie’s boots crunched in the snow as he crossed the garden and settled on the step beneath me.
I met his eyes, half-obscured behind a pair of tinted glasses.
“I don’t think Belle wants to be here,” I said, forcing the words out. “Jinn is going to be heartbroken.”
“And why do you care?” Brodie asked. “You’ll get paid either way.”
I watched my fingers intertwine painfully. “I know… But it feels… Sad.”
“Because you’re sleeping with her?”
I shot Maia an accusatory look across the garden.
“You told Brodie?!”
“Of course.” Her snort echoed in the night. “My sister is sleeping with a vamp—a vamp !—and you think I’ll keep that a secret?”
“A vamp that tried to kill you,” Brodie pointed out unnecessarily.
I held both my palms out. “We need to stop bringing that up. It was a mistake, okay? We’ve moved past that and so should you.”
“We never agreed to that,” Brodie said with a shake of his head. “Do you understand how crazy it is that you can look at someone who inflicted pain on you and think how hot they are?”
“Isn’t that the basis of BDSM?” I asked, my brows rising.
“The basis of BDSM is consent,” he corrected with a little huff, as though it was stupid of me not to know that. “And something tells me the vamp didn’t ask for your consent before she tried to kill you.”
“Enough.” The hard edge in my voice surprised me. “Please.”
“Can we talk about something else?” I said, forcing myself to speak slowly. “Like how the vampyre I’ve fought to bring back from the other side is about to break her mother’s heart by rejecting a second chance at immortality?”
“Why are you so sure about that?” Brodie pushed his glasses further up his nose.
“Because.” I paused to pick my words carefully. “She seemed… devastated to be back here. If I had a second chance at life, I’d be ecstatic. But Belle just seems so fucking sad.”
I placed my head in my palms, trying to untangle the thoughts that had wrangled themselves into knots.
Maia, satisfied that the barrels were under direct moonlight, walked back towards us.
“So everything you did was for nothing?” she asked.
“Not for nothing.”
When I glanced up at my sister, I was surprised to find my vision blurry. I swiped the tears away quickly.
“I think Jinn deserves closure with her daughter,” I said. “When Belle ran away to be neutralized, she didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. At least this way, they’ll be able to make peace with the decision together.”
“That is a very expensive goodbye,” Brodie quipped.
“It’s priceless to Jinn. I have no doubt. ”
Chapter Forty-Four
Jinn
There was nothing left to say. No words that would smooth over the pain that lingered between us like a chasm.
Belle lay in the comfort of my arms, her powder blue coat piled on the carpet in front of us.
You need to let me go.
She had made her decision—had made it twice. There was nothing I could do or say to change her mind.
And that was the worst part—the sheer, crushing helplessness of it.
I didn’t fight. I didn’t argue. I didn’t beg. She had looked at me with those steady, unwavering eyes, and I had known. She wasn’t going to bend. She wasn’t going to change her decision. Not for me. Not for anyone.
I wondered if I would rest easier knowing that I had done everything I could. Or if the memories would throb less in my chest knowing that Belle was at peace with her decision.
I thought I’d be choked by frustration, grief, anger and all other stifling emotions, but instead, all I felt was…
Numb.
I had already mourned Belle. Perhaps I had lived with the hope of her returning to me, but that seemed inconsequential now .
In fighting to bring her back, I had gotten used to moving through the world without her, and I would have no choice but to continue to do so.
Gazing down at Belle now, all I felt was… nothing.
No shock. No joy. No sudden rush of relief.
I should have felt something—rage, devastation, terror. But all that was left were crumbs from emotions that had long ago fizzed and disappeared, as if my body had given up trying to process what my mind already knew.
I couldn't stop her. I couldn't save her.
Maybe, deep down, I had already accepted it. Maybe I had known all along that this was how it would end. That no matter how tightly I held on, no matter how hard I fought to save her, she had been gradually slipping through my fingers.
My words were thin and tired.
“So, this is it?”
I waited for the slight pause of hesitation, but she spoke confidently.
“This is it.”
I looked at her, memorizing every detail—the way the light caught her eyes, the soft curve of her lips, the quiet calm in her expression.
She was at peace.
And there was nothing I could do but let her go.