Chapter 13
Avery POV
I lie back against Sparkle, her enormous body radiating heat as I rest against her side. The rumbling of her purring vibrates into my bones. It sounds like distant thunder, steady and low, comforting in its wildness. Once upon a time, she was small enough to sleep curled on my chest. Now, I lie against her like a pillow. She's over two meters tall, all sinew and mana-forged muscle, but when I'm with her, I feel safe.
The sky above is clear. Stars scatter across it like glitter thrown by a careless god. Some twinkle in strange colors—violet, red, eerie green—but others remain constant. The moon hangs high and round. A little cracked, a little bruised, but still shining. Still the same.
Everything else has changed.
Below, I can hear people laughing. Talking. Living. The voices of survivors echo through the canyon—too loud, too full of hope, too full of life.
It grates on me.
I'm not made for this. Not anymore. Silence and solitude shaped me. Sparkle is the only heartbeat I trust near mine. I've built walls, and within them, I'm comfortable.
My hand drifts to the necklace around my throat. My fingers find the familiar shapes there—the cold press of the silver ring, the rigid edge of the small, metallic flash drive. I thumb the ring slowly, eyes locked on the sky.
And, like a parasite I can't shake, my thoughts drift to Jace.
I shove them back where they belong. Buried. Forgotten.
I push myself upright and glance around. No one's watching.
With a flick of thought, I open a rift. It shimmers like a crack in reality—barely wide enough for a person. I close it instantly. Too exposed. Too bright.
I walk away, further from the camp, until I find a loose cluster of rocks that form a shadowed alcove. There, hidden in the dark, I open the rift again.
"Sparkle," I murmur. She gets up with a huff and pads through the portal. I follow.
When I open my eyes, I'm not in the canyon anymore.
Street lamps hum faintly overhead, casting soft pools of white light onto a manicured lawn. The air smells clean—sterile, even. In front of me stands a two-story house with a tiled roof and flower boxes in the windows. A driveway. A garage. A porch light that flickers once before going steady.
My sanctuary.
This place wasn't always mine. It was supposed to be temporary. A honeymoon rental—back when I believed in things like love, in forever, in soft touches that didn't hurt later.
We'd picked it for its remoteness. Fully stocked. Forest-wrapped. Unplugged.
Then the Mana Surge happened.
And it became the only place I could run to.
Sparkle bounds ahead, throwing herself into the lawn and rolling through the grass like an overgrown kitten. I follow the curved stone path around to the side of the house, kneeling beside the generator. I pull a mana crystal from my belt and slot it into the modified unit. Elias helped me rework it—it runs entirely off mana now. No fuel. No noise.
The house comes to life.
I walk through the front door and shut it quietly behind me. My boots come off. My clothes go into the washing machine. I don't bother checking pockets—I know what's in them. The house is warm. Silent.
Mine.
I head upstairs, naked. There's no one here to see. I fill the tub with hot water and sink into it slowly, the tension melting off my bones like wax.
I close my eyes and listen to the hum of electricity and the gentle splash of water. My thoughts drift again.
To his voice.
His face.
I scrub harder.
Back in bed, I lie in the dark with a towel slung around my hips, staring at the ceiling. I can't sleep. My body aches with exhaustion, but my mind won't stop. I toss. Shift. Look at the clock.
Four hours left.
I sigh, fling the towel aside, and shuffle to the wardrobe. I open it and pull out my favorite distraction.
A sleek, bright red silicone marvel—still pristine, still faithful. I found it three years ago, buried under debris in a ransacked adult store. Sealed. Untouched.
Waiting for someone desperate. Me.
It's funny how fate works.
Some people pray to gods. I just try to out-sleep my grief.
Nothing knocks me out like a good old-fashioned orgasm.