I was happy for her. She deserved her happy ending.
“Things are better, though, right?” Olivia asked. “All joking aside.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “Operation seduce the highlander to help take the edge off the bond has been a complete success.”
And yet, cold shivers laced through my chest. Shivers that had everything to do with how well the plan had gone, and how unexpected that had been. But that was Lachlan—totally, frustratingly unexpected. The kindness he displayed when his exterior was nothing but teeth and sharp glares. The humor he pulled out when I retreated into myself, guilt-ridden and anxious to the point of screaming. Everything about the vampire seemed designed to both drive me crazy and quiet my chaos at the same time.
“And your focus?” Avi asked. “Has it been…easier?”
I nodded. “It has,” I said, though just because we’d taken the edge off that need for each other didn’t mean the craving had disappeared.
No, I wanted Lachlan more than ever now. But at least now we knew what happened when we crossed that line—that mind-blowing, world-shattering line. It was easier to tell my brain that I’d be with Lachlan later, to focus on what mattered right that second than it had been before. Before—when we’d resisted the physical pull between us and all our bodies and souls could do was rage and scream and focus on the one thing we weren’t doing.
“It’s easier to separate now,” I continued when they still looked expectant. “Compartmentalize.”
Olivia leaned back in her chair. “There still hasn’t been news?”
Pain lashed through my chest. “No. I haven’t gotten an email or even a hint at where my brother has taken her.” And that was the crux of what kept me training until my muscles ached, what kept me up long after Lachlan had retired for the day, what had me on edge so much my brain hurt.
Where Kyle was keeping her.
What he was doing to her.
All because of me. Because of my love for Daphne.
“We’re going to find her,” Lyric said with all the determination and confidence of a queen. “The Order is working nonstop—”
“I know,” I stopped her because it just hurt too damn much. Hurt to hear of all the power at my fingertips—I had the Onyx Assassins on my side for fuck’s sake—and we still didn’t have her.
That terrified me. The fact that the Sons, in my brother’s hands, had become more diabolical and malicious than it had before. And while I was helping Lachlan and the others at every turn, there were still pieces of me—of my past life—I hadn’t been able to give them. Not yet. Not when Daphne was still vulnerable.
A mess.
All of it.
I raked my palms over my face, trying to rid myself of the sticky guilt eating at my insides like tar.
Guilt for keeping things from Lachlan. Guilt for enjoying our time together while Daphne was sequestered away somewhere without one genuine person who understood her, cared for her. Guilt for wanting to rage at the Order for not finding a whisper of her whereabouts and even more guilt for knowing it wasn’t their fault at all.
The Sons—my ex-family—had been hiding from the supernaturals for centuries. Their affinity for hiding in plain sight had been the only way they’d survived so long. I couldn’t blame the Order or anyone else for not being able to track down an organization that prided itself on being uncatchable for over two-hundred years.
I had no one to blame but myself. Because I had been in the Sons—been heir to the damn Moorehouse line—and I couldn’t find her.
“I’ve gone over every detail in my mind,” I said, shaking my head. “Over and over again. Every story, every planned event, every safe house, lab…” My shoulders dropped. “And I don’t have a clue where he took her.” Tears threatened to sting my eyes, but I sucked in a sharp breath. Every day it got a little harder to hold back the well of terror pounding at the wall I’d built around it.
What happened if I didn’t find her? What happened if I didn’t get her out?
Kyle would force her to marry that old, abusive sack of shit. And she’d be miserable for the rest of her life—if she was even allowed to live long after she produced a male heir.
“It’s not your fault,” Lyric said, laying her hand over mine.
“It is, though,” I said, drawing my hand back. “If I would’ve—”
“You have to stop doing that to yourself,” Olivia cut me off. “You can’t think about the what-ifs. You have to focus on the what-you-can-do-nows. That’s the only way to win this battle.”
I breathed in deep and released it slowly as I nodded to her.
She tipped her chin, placing her hands on the table. “Good,” she said. “So let’s go through it all again.”
After two hours of verbally illustrating every detail and memory and spot about where Daphne might be, I was beyond exhausted. The strategy session, coupled with a few more rounds with Olivia, had my body on the verge of collapse. Even a shower hadn’t soothed the aches.