"Lena, there's a letter for you!"
My eyes flew open, and my mouth followed. A sigh slipped from my lips, and I made a move to get up, but was accosted by a sharp pain on my cheek.
"Ow!" I groaned.
I froze, taking stock of my surroundings. It took me a few seconds to realise that I'd dozed off on the leather sofa in the living room. My cheek had become one with the upholstery.
"Lena?" Came the call, again. "You have a letter from Fang Pack!"
Fang Pack....That could only mean one thing.
"JESSE!" I screamed.
Paying no heed to the pain, I pulled myself from the sofa and shot to my feet. Isla was standing at the door, waving an envelope above her head.
I hurried towards her and yanked the letter from her hands, then turned my back to her. "Thanks. Now, leave."
"Really?" She whined. "Next time, I won't do you the honour of delivering your letters."
"Whatever!" I snapped, as she closed the door behind her. On the spot, I tore the envelope apart, pulling out a neatly folded letter.
The first thing I noticed was that the letter wasn't written in Jesse's characteristic, tiny, childish handwriting. This one had a more mature, more cursive penmanship that was unfamiliar.
Weird...
My eyes hurriedly scanned the paper, as I took in the words.
"Dearest Lena," I began. "This is Jesse's mother. It has been years since we last met, but I do hope you still remember me. I took it upon myself to write this to you personally, because I want you to know about what happened first, before anybody else. Jesse is dead—"
The rest of the words curled up into a stubborn ball on my tongue, unwilling to come out. What did she mean, Jesse is dead?
My eyes stung, but I wasn't sure if it was from disbelief or horror. This could not be true. Was this a prank from Jesse? But Jesse wasn't one to play such scary games.
The second thing I noticed was that the envelope I tore apart was still heavy. I dug into it, and my fingers closed in around a chain-like object. I pulled out the chain, and it was the other half of the heart pendant Jesse and I had exchanged, many years back. Its twin lay against my ribcage.
I turned the pendant around, worn out by years and years of hanging from the neck of the boy I loved.
My mate.
A shuddering gasp forced its way out of my mouth, and I staggered backwards. The entire room seemed to close in on me, constricting my throat, wickedly stealing the breath from my lungs.
The room spun, and so did Jesse's mother's words, around and around in my head.
Jesse is dead....
My mate is dead....
From what seemed like miles away, I heard a door burst open, and voices filled the room. Hands closed in around my shoulders, and shook them violently. Vague faces swam in and out of my vision. Incoherent voices filtered into my ears.
Suddenly, I felt a pair of stronger arms circle my shoulders in a hug, heard a sob in my ears. Like a fish on a hook, I was yanked back to reality.
"Oh, Lena!" The person embracing me wailed. "I am so sorry, Lena!"
She stepped backwards to look at me, her eyes red-rimmed with tears. It was Isla.
"Jesse...." I whimpered. "Jesse!"
"He's dead, Lena!" Isla whispered, shaking her head slowly.
"How...where—?" My legs suddenly felt like sticks of wax. I sank down to my knees, and Isla followed, holding me to her chest.
"Father said that he died while fighting Rogues." She murmured. "Father is coming back with a Healer."
The door swung open again, and a louder voice boomed. "There she is. Step away from her, Isla."
Isla's strong arms slipped away from my body, and I fell to the soft living room rug, limp as a ragdoll. My skin felt like parchment paper; I was numb to the soles of my feet. My loss was as much a physical pain as it was emotional, and I felt like a piece of useless driftwood, bereft and alone.
"Give her something for the pain, Healer." The loud voice ordered.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw someone approaching me with what appeared to be a huge needle. The arm of my dress was pushed upwards, and the needle was shoved into my skin.
I felt a sharp pain, then a slight tingle, and finally nothing, as I drifted into unconsciousness.