Ashton’s mind stretched around every possible event that could take place in two days. “Is it about my birthday?” She shook her head. “What’s so important about that? I turn eighteen.”
His audible response was more than a growl, more than a groan. It was a guttural, painful bawl that forced her back a step. Mason leaned over, hands on his knees. Exasperation swarmed his body like an aura.
“Look at you.” She gripped his shoulder. Angry or not, she loved him. “Whatever this is, it’s hurting you. It’s hurting us. Let me help you.”
“You don’t understand.” He spoke through gritted teeth.
“Does it have to do with your dream-hunt in the woods? Those hawks crashing through my window?” Desperate, she touched his cheek, locked eyes. “Tell me what’s happening. If not for you, for me. It’s driving you crazy? Can you imagine how I feel not knowing anything?”
He pulled free, paced in circles, sand flying every direction.
“Mas, please.” She stepped in his path, his gaze like burnt embers.
“It’s big.” His weight fell to her shoulder, and she cemented her feet in the sand to hold him upright. “It’s bigger than the both of us.”
She clung to him like a buoy in dangerous waters, unable to tell anymore who was saving whom.
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