I wasn’t moving anymore, and the pain was too much. Everything was too much.

A sob worked its way out of me, and I couldn’t hold it back. Deep, ragged sobs that hurt.

I felt so stupid and so broken and so alone. There was no one to come help me, and there wouldn’t be. Not after today. I would go back to my house and my half-hearted heats. Trying to get through life on the small joys of my art, and it would have to be enough.

It would have to be alone.

Moving felt like jagged glass beneath my skin, but I couldn’t stay here. Somehow I needed to get to the road. Somewhere someone would see me.

My whole body was shivering, and it felt like I’d never get warm again. It was my own fault for doing this. I left my phone on purpose. I hadn’t made the bank fall on purpose, but it was still my fault.

I dragged myself away from the river, allowing myself to make as much sound as I needed to. It was pure torture. As long as I lived, I would never call anything sexual torture again.

The thought crashed down on me. No matter what, I wouldn’t be able to. Because they’d never been mine.

I whined, my Omega finally understanding it was real. This was real.

“Please wake up,” I whispered to myself. “It’s a bad dream. Please wake up.”

But no pain like this—physical or emotional—could be a dream.

One tiny movement at a time, I forced myself toward the bank and the impossibly steep incline. If my ankle were fine it would be easy. As it was?

A sound made my head snap toward the park. Was that someone’s voice? I couldn’t hear anything with the river and the rain.

I was probably imagining things, desperation and fear creating what I wanted most.

But it was there again. It was a voice, even though I didn’t know what it was saying. Maybe they would help me. Take me home.

“ESME!” The call was faint, but it was my name.

I sagged on the ground, hoping with everything in me someone had figured out where I’d run and at the same time unwilling to accept it was real.

“ESME!” The voice was closer now.

“I’m here,” I said. “I’m here!”

I couldn’t force my voice any louder. There was too much sound and there wasn’t enough air in my lungs with all the pain.

“I’m here,” I said, only loud enough to the answer the voice in my head. “I’m here.”

“Esme?” The panicked voice called down from above. Clattering rocks followed. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Baby, talk to me, baby.”

It was Kade. He was here, turning me over and looking at me.