He let his hand fall away. “It’s become far too easy to imagine you at my side, as my mate. But those are things I can’t give you. I can’t ask you to risk your life by coming into my world. People die around me. I can’t allow myself to be responsible for anyone else’s life—your life. Don’t you understand?”
“Yes, I think I finally do.” The realization settled on her with clarity now, and not a little rage. “You’re not doing this out of concern for me at all. You’re doing it because you’re afraid. I thought you were being noble by denying yourself another blood bond all this time. I thought it was honor that made you refuse to let another woman into your heart—and I think I loved you even more because of that. But I was wrong, wasn’t I? You’re pushing me away now because you’re scared. You’re running away from something that could probably be pretty fucking amazing because you’re terrified of feeling any kind of pain again. The only person you’re concerned about taking care of is yourself.”
He didn’t deny it. He didn’t try to defend or justify anything she said. He let out a slow exhalation. His jaw was set and rigid, his aura uncompromising. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll take you home to your family’s Darkhaven.”
“No, don’t bother. You’re not responsible for me, remember? I’ll find my own way home.” She tried to walk past him and he grabbed her arm, misery smoldering beneath the resolve in his dark blue eyes. “Let me go. That’s what you want, so I’m giving it to you.”
“Melena...”
She wrenched out of his loose grasp. “Good-bye, Lazaro.”
This time, he didn’t stop her. He stood unmoving, unspeaking, as she stepped around him and walked out the door.
CHAPTER 11
An hour later, Melena sat woodenly in the passenger seat of the Order’s SUV as it rolled up to her family’s Darkhaven in Baltimore. The big brownstone should have been a welcome sight in so many ways, yet all she felt was sorrow when she looked at it through the tinted glass of the vehicle’s window.
Sorrow that she’d never hear her father’s voice inside the house again. Sorrow for the pain her brother must be feeling as he walked into the empty home, believing he’d lost not only his father but Melena as well. She didn’t want to imagine Derek’s anguish, being the sole blood kin of Byron and Frances Walsh, both gone now.
And yes, Melena felt sorrow for herself too. Because instead of facing all of these heartaches with Lazaro’s strong arms around her and his love to hold her up if she crumbled, she would be doing it alone.
“I’m ready,” she murmured, more to herself than the Breed male behind the wheel.
Lucan and Gabrielle’s son, Darion, put the vehicle in park and turned a sympathetic look on her. “I’ll walk you inside, Miss Walsh.”
“No.” She shook her head, warmed by the kind offer. Darion was as gentlemanly as he was attractive. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary. My brother won’t be expecting me, and I don’t imagine it will be easy for him when I walk in the door and he sees that I’m alive. I’d rather do this on my own.”
“Okay.” Darion frowned, but gave her a nod. The dark-haired Breed male’s aura was golden and kind, steadfast with the strength of a born leader. “But I’m gonna wait here until you’ve gone inside.”
She reached over to touch his large hand. “Thank you.”
Melena climbed out of the vehicle and headed up the walkway toward the front door. It was unlocked, the soft light in the vestibule a warm, welcoming beacon. She stepped inside and pivoted to wave good-bye to Darion. As the black SUV rolled away, she took a steeling breath and closed the door behind her.
She was home.
She was back on safe, familiar ground. And yet, as she walked quietly through the house, she felt like a stranger to the place. Like a ghost drifting through a life that no longer quite fit anymore.
She drifted past the front rooms and grand central staircase, unsure if she should call to Derek or wait and let him adjust to seeing her once she found him.
She didn’t have long to wonder. She heard her brother talking farther down the hallway. In her father’s study. Derek was on a call with someone, the low rumble of his voice drawing Melena with a relief and a comfort she definitely needed right now.
“Yes, sir, the shipment is en route and everything is in order. That’s right, I saw to it personally.”
Melena paused at the open doorway. Derek stood with his back to her, dressed in loose sweatpants, his brown hair still wet from a recent shower. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and although the sight of her Breed brother’s glyphs were no surprise to her, something did make her breath catch abruptly in her throat.