Death. A subject people avoid at all cost. No one wants to die, of course, but people become uncomfortable simply discussing it. We hate the realization that this life is temporary. None of us wants to think about the pain that might come before death, or the pain others will feel once we’re gone. It’s easier just to pretend the pain of death only comes to other people.

So then, what did it say about Sally that death seemed a welcome topic? In fact, she could think of nothing better than closing her eyes for the last time never to open them again. To leave her defiled body behind, to no longer be trapped in a mind that continues to remember things she longed to forget, to no longer be a burden to the ones she loved so desperately, seemed like the perfect solution.

Except for the fact that her death would also take Costin’s life because of their true mate bond. It would also destroy Jacque, Jen, and Sally’s own parents, and it would leave Titus without his parents. She was sane enough to admit ending her life would be a selfish way out. She could tell herself all day it would be a blessing to those who were constantly worrying about her, but in truth, it would be only for her to escape the pain.

Sally sighed as she leaned back against the railing of the gazebo. The indoor garden of the Romania pack mansion had become a refuge of sorts. It was the place the healer retreated to when she felt overwhelmed, which was pretty much every day, all day. It had been a week since she’d been found in Ocean Side and reunited with her mate and her family, a week since her memory was restored even as her life crumbled at the same time. It had been a week, and yet it felt like months—she was exhausted. She fought to get through every minute of the day. There was no rest, not when she sat, doing nothing at all, not when she slept, not when she kept busy in hopes of keeping the thoughts at bay. She felt like a ticking bomb, and any moment time would be up. How many people would be collateral damage when she finally exploded? Or would she simply implode and take all her anguish and misery with her, leaving those she loved relatively unscathed?

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, thankful there was no one to hear her. The wall in her mind, keeping Costin from hearing her thoughts, was firmly in place. He would freak out to know she was thinking like this. No, he would more than freak if he knew what was going on in her head. He’d have her chained to his side and never let her out of his sight...not that he let her out of his sight as it was. He gave her some privacy, but he was never further than just outside the door of whatever room she occupied, no matter the reason.

Costin watched her with an intensity many would have found unnerving and a tad creepy. But Sally knew why he did it. She knew no matter how hard she tried to keep him in the dark about the desolation filling her, he understood. That realization only made it worse because, not only was Sally being haunted by memories that were slowly killing her, Costin was suffering as well. She was hurting him and felt powerless to stop.

Sally felt her breath catch as she let the bond slightly open. The overwhelming love and worry she felt pour into her was more than she deserved. She slammed the bond shut quickly before he could feel her anguish and disgust. She was dirty, tainted, and unworthy of his affection.

“Cheater,” she heard the darkness whisper in her mind. “Unfaithful, adulterer,” it hissed like a snake.

Words that all described her now, though they weren’t adjectives she’d imagined she’ ever be associated with. After all, who grows up thinking ‘one day I’ll cheat on my spouse’, like it was something inevitable and should just be accepted? She’d grown up in a family with parents who loved each other. They weren’t overly affectionate, but anyone could see the adoration in her parents’ eyes when they looked at one another. She’d been taught, for a relationship to work, there must be trust, sacrifice, respect, and love. She’d been taught love was a choice, not a finicky emotion you fell in and out of.

Her parents had given her a pretty good foundation to stand on when it came to knowing what was required for a relationship. But they hadn’t prepared her for what to do if she had her mind supernaturally wiped, been thrown into a life that wasn’t real, pursued by a man who wasn’t her soul mate, and then climbed into bed with that man. Where were the instructions on how to deal with those dilemmas? Where were the self-help books, the counseling groups, the pills to help her cope with the pain that came from completely forgetting the man that held the other half of her soul and giving her body to another?

Sally felt him before he opened the door and entered her sanctuary. His hazel eyes met hers and held her gaze with a confidence she envied now more than ever. He stalked toward her with purpose in every step. His movements were calculated, unhurried, and graceful. He was, quite simply, breathtaking.

“It’s late, Sally mine,” Costin’s deep voice rumbled. He held out his hand to her. “I’ve already put Titus down. Come to bed.”

Her gut clenched with guilt knowing she hadn’t been there to say goodnight to their adopted son. She was still so very new to the whole mom thing, and sucking hard core at it.

“He understands more than you realize,” Costin said as though he could hear her thoughts...though he couldn’t because she was shutting him out. “Please, come to bed.”

She stood and walked toward him. Her hands shook so she tucked them behind her back in hopes of hiding the tremors from him. It was also convenient because it kept her from touching him. Sally didn’t deserve to touch him. She had lost the right to put her hands on him when she’d touched another male.

“You look tired, brow—,” his words froze in his throat before he could finish the sentence that would have ended with a nickname she could no longer hear from his lips. “You need rest,” he finally said after several awkward seconds.

“You could have let me know when you were putting Titus down,” she said as they walked side by side, un-touching, looking more like acquaintances than true mates. True mates touched without conscious thought. The need was so great they rarely occupied the same room without touching each other in some way—the way it was supposed to be. “I would have come to tell him goodnight.”

“I tried to tell you,” he said as he tapped his temple. “But it’s Fort Knox up there.”

She didn’t know what to say so she said nothing. They walked in silence to their suite, though she could feel his eyes on her when he periodically glanced over. She didn’t meet his gaze, but simply looked down at the ground, allowing his steps to guide her.

When the door clicked shut behind them, and the locked slipped into place, Sally felt the all too familiar panic beginning to rise.