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I narrow my eyes at them, my skin burning. My mind is consumed by a single, deadly purpose. “Why the fuck should I stop?” My voice is like chalk; I barely recognize it. “Especially after what he did to you, London?”

The pain on her face burrows into my soul. He might as well have killed her because what he did to her was worse.

All that pain—every bit of it—was caused by me because I couldn’t protect her. Nigel was merely a vessel—empty and devoid of purpose. My destructive touch shatters everything in its wake. And I really, really didn’t want to break her.

Now he might as well kill me.

By some miracle, Nigel is still breathing, and he manages a dark laugh. I pin him down, keeping him away from London. In his final breaths, he will still find a way to hurt her.

He twists his head and smiles at her with his bloody teeth, taking her in as she peers down at him, her hair falling in her face.

Without saying a word, she steps forward, and before I can stop her, she shoves the spear into his neck. His body convulses before it goes limp and life seeps from his eyes, though that wicked smile on his face remains intact.

I catch my breath and watch her for a heartbeat before I stumble back. The world feels rocky under my feet. She’s shaking, clutching her spear, which she throws a few feet away as if it’s made of fire.

“Holy fuck,” Ezra mumbles, staring at Nigel’s dead body. “That was messed up.”

I stumble back, suddenly desperate for as much distance as possible between us.

Scared of the creature I’ve become.

My body trembles and is uncontrollably rigid as I realize what she just had to do. Once again, I failed miserably, and because of that, she now has to carry this burden. A deep part of me wants to be angry at her for taking this away from me. A bigger part of me is furious with myself for not finishing him before she did. I should have known she would do it, that she was strong enough.

For one last moment, I take in the sight of her. My vision returns, and I assess the damage I caused. Blood is splattered everywhere—all over me and all over her. Nigel’s limp body is torn apart. His arm is broken from where I twisted it around his body and pulled it out of his socket in an unsightly way.

For the first time, I can’t find words. My body shakes even harder as I run my hands through my hair, my stomach tightening and every vein in my body pulsing.

The world is so heavy, so fucking heavy. That weight is finally too much for me to bear.

I hear voices, but I can’t register what they are saying.

“Micah, it’s over. Try to breathe.” London is the one speaking, but she keeps her distance. I’m still in a predatory stance, I realize, as she takes a tentative step toward me. Ezra holds her back, recognizing I’m not here anymore.

“London, give him a minute,” he tells her.

It was smart because if she were to have touched my back like that right now, I might have pulled her arm from its socket, too.

They both look at me, and all I can seem to do is shake my head and stare down at Nigel’s dead body—a physical manifestation of everything that pains me.

London parts her cherry lips. Those lips I spent the better part of the year kissing. Those beautiful lips I’ll probably never touch again. So innocent… until she met me. I can’t look her in the eyes, so I focus on those sexy fucking lips.

“Micah,” she whispers. “Talk to me. Look at me.”

I glance at what’s left of Nigel, then at the gnarled branches of the forest beyond.

“Micah, no,” she cries. “Stay with me. We need your help with the signal fire. Just stay with me. Please, I need you. It doesn’t matter what he did.” It kills me that she’s begging again, knowing that I’m leaving her again.

She is aware of my thoughts, which are evident from my repeated glances to the north. She approaches me, and I instinctively take a step back. I feel my chest tighten, unwilling to let her make physical contact. If she were to touch me, everything would unravel because I would refuse to let her go.

I don’t deserve to be saved; it’s better if I fade into the shadows. London deserves better than me. I need to let her go. It’s not our fucking time…

Ezra, who is standing awkwardly watching me, keeps London back. I shake my head, my eyes pleading. “Don’t fucking hurt her again. Watch over her for me, man.”

London screams, and I can’t fathom how she has the strength. “Micah, don’t fucking do this. Don’t run away again. I didn’t mean what I said yesterday… I didn’t mean it!”

There is no strength left in me as I face her. “I love you, London King. Don’t ever doubt that.” I disappear into the woods before I have a chance to change my mind.

Her screams echo through the air, slowly transforming into desperate cries, but I continue to press forward. The wind cuts through my hoodie as I pick up my pace and head toward my home. My heart breaks for doing this to her again, but I can’t give her what she needs or what she deserves.