10. Ava

TEN

AVA

As I backed out my driveway, I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Blayne collapse to his knees. He had his hand on his chest and a look of pure anguish marring his face. I slammed the car back into park and jumped out, running across the street.

"Blayne? Are you okay?" I asked as I neared his prone form.

He raised the hand on his chest to wipe at his eyes and shook his head. "I'm fine. I'll be okay."

His tone worried me more than I'd been when I'd seen him writhing in pain. The only way to describe it was hollow . He sounded absolutely broken, almost like he was already dead inside. It was the saddest sound I'd ever heard.

"Blayne, you don't sound okay. Let me help you up." I reached out a hand to him, but he shook his head.

"I'll be all right. Don't worry about me. I can handle this."

"You've been saying that for over a week now. Maybe you should see a doctor?" I offered.

A dry, humorless laugh burst from his lips. "No doctor can help me with this. It's not the type of sickness that can be healed with medicine."

"Well, there has to be something that can be done. I know mate rejections are rare, but surely over the centuries someone has come up with some kind of treatment, right?" I asked. "Shifters don't suffer the rest of their lives after a mate rejects them, do they?"

Guilt slid over me like a heavy blanket. I'd caused this. My words had ripped something out of him, possibly destroyed some deep part of him. The idea that he was irrevocably damaged sickened me. If I'd known it would be this bad would I have still done it? Could I still have done it? No matter how much of an asshole Blayne was, he didn't deserve this.

He finally began to stand and I bent to help him. He was too tired to push me away and allowed me to put an arm under his shoulder and help him stand. Blayne must really have felt like shit. It was the closest we'd ever been to each other in our entire lives. Heat radiated off him like he had a fever.

His steps were heavy and clumsy, and he winced every few seconds as I helped him to his house. I nearly toppled over as he leaned his weight onto me when we went up the steps. Once inside, Blayne collapsed onto the nearest thing he could find, which luckily ended up being his sofa.

He covered his face with his hand and mumbled to himself. "I never thought it would be this bad."

The words were said so soft that I barely heard them, but I did.

"Let me get you something. Hang on," I said.

I went to his kitchen, intent on making him some tea or coffee, but the containers were empty. Thinking he might have something to drink in his fridge, I pulled open the door. It looked barren except for a jar of pickles, a few bottles of condiments and dressings, a bag of deli meat that looked like it was covered in slime, and a pack of cheese that had grown a fuzzy coat of mold.

"Jesus, when's the last time you got groceries?"

Blayne shrugged and laid his head back on the couch. "I haven't had much of an appetite."

Closing the fridge, I walked back over and knelt in front of him. He looked gaunt, as if he'd lost weight. "How have you been sleeping?"

He shook his head. "I haven't. Maybe three hours here, two hours there. Sometimes I don't sleep at all."

"I think you're depressed. You or your panther or both."

I'd gone through something similar when Liam died.

He needed something in his body. I got him a glass of water since that was all he had. He sipped at it, looking at me over the rim of the glass. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Helping me. Taking care of me."

It was becoming exhausting to get him to understand, but I tried again for the thousandth time. "Blayne, regardless of how much you hate me and my family, I still loved Liam. Even though he's gone, I know he'd never forgive me if I let you suffer like this."

Blayne's face twisted, as if the water suddenly tasted bitter. "The dead can't forgive anyone."

He was trying to hurt me again, but it wouldn't work. I was starting to think he was actually doing it to brainwash himself into thriving on the hatred. It wasn't really even about me anymore. Knowing that took the sting out of his statement.

"Besides, aren't you and your friends fighting some big bad wolf character? Isn't that what you told me? If you aren't at your full strength, then you aren't any good to them. You can't tell me you'd be up for a fight if the hunters came beating down your door right now."

Blayne glared at me, but the fire in his eyes died rapidly, replaced with resigned disappointment. He gave an imperceptible shake of his head. "No, I guess not."

"You need to get some rest."

I could see that he wanted to argue, but his mind and body were too tired to fight it. Instead, he heaved himself up to his feet and started shambling down the hall. "No reason to be pushy," he called over his shoulder.

I let myself out. How did you help a depressed shifter? I had no clue how to fix him. The only person I could think of who might help was April. She was a shifter now, and she was mated to one. Maybe she'd have some insight. It was still early in the morning, but I wouldn't be able to think straight until I'd talked to someone.

To my surprise, April answered on the first ring. "Ava? What's wrong?"

"Uh…hey, sorry to bother you this early."

"No problem. Steff and I are out having breakfast with Harley and Tate. What's up?"

I sighed. "It's Blayne. Something is definitely wrong with him. I wanted to see if you had any insight."

"What's going on with him?"

I explained how he had been acting, ending with his collapse in his yard this morning. "Do you or any of your friends know how he can get better?"

There was a moment of conversation away from the phone. April was talking to the others, but I couldn't hear what was being said. When she spoke to me again, she sounded equally confused. "Ava, I'm not an expert, but it does sound like he is depressed. Tate wants to speak to you. Hang on."

A moment later, the deep voice of the man I'd met in the coffee shop got on the line. "Ava? This is Tate."

"Hey."

"I'll be honest, I'm glad you called. We've been worried about Blayne. He keeps trying to play off what's happening with him like it's no big deal, but we can see right through that."

"Is there a way to fix it, some treatment he can get?"

"It's tough. His panther's emotions and feelings are bleeding over into his human body. The panther is in agony and suffering from the rejection. The loss is so deep that it's more than mental. It's a physical manifestation of a type of magical depression."

That didn't give me much hope. "Does that mean there isn't a cure?"

"Here's the deal. Blayne is not going to like it, and you probably won't, either. The panther needs closeness. Even though the curse isn't connecting you anymore, the creature inside him still wants you close. If you stay near him, that will show the panther that even if you aren't mates, you won't completely forsake them. Over time, I think the panther might accept you as a friend. You won't be a lover, but it might be enough for the pain and depression to fade."

"Jeez," I said. "You're right. Blayne definitely won't like that."

"I know. But the panther has to know that no matter how hard Blayne pushes you away, you'll still be there for them."

"I'll have think about it." I wasn't sure how much abuse I could take from Blayne, and I already had enough on my plate with my dad's cancer.

"I'm sorry this happened to you. Blayne really is a great guy. His head is just still messed up from losing his brother."

"Right. Thanks, Tate. I need to go. Tell April I said bye."

"Okay. Take it easy."

I let Tate's words mingle in my mind as I headed to the grocery store. Blayne had no food. It would be my good deed for the day to get him some food. Then he wouldn't die of starvation at least.

I zoned out on the drive, thinking over everything Tate had said. Could I really do what he said? Blayne had made it clear he'd rather walk barefoot through hell than have me around. Why should I put myself through that?

I bought a big stack of frozen microwave meals, some cheese, crackers and chips, and some fresh fruit. In his state, he probably wouldn't want to cook. Everything I bought required no cooking. Not entirely healthy, but he needed something. At the end of the shelf, I noticed a big pack of Oreo cookies. I froze as a memory from years ago rushed back. Liam and I had been cuddled up on a couch watching a movie, but doing more talking than watching.

Liam had told me how much he and Blayne loved Oreos. They hadn't had a lot of money growing up, and their parents only bought the cookies once or twice a year. As much as Liam loved the cookies, he always made sure Blayne got most of them. Blayne would sometimes question how many Liam had eaten, thinking his brother hadn't gotten his fair share. Liam had always lied to Blayne and said he'd had just the same amount—all to make sure his brother was taken care of and happy. It had been a small kindness, but to a boy who had little, it was a huge sacrifice. And Liam would have sacrificed everything for his brother.

Another memory, this one darker and more horrific. Uncle Luis dragging Liam's bloodied and dying body through the front door. Liam gasping, blood bubbling out of his lips. He clutched Luis and made sure he knew that he didn't want Blayne to blame me for what was happening. Then he reached out a hand to me, grabbing my arm in a vice-like grip. The last words he ever said to me came in a rasping gurgle. "Take care of Blayne. Take care of my brother." The light died in Liam's eyes. The last thing he asked for on this earth was for me to take care of his brother.

By the time the mental movie was done playing in my mind, I was sobbing in front of the cookies. Tears streaked down my cheeks, and my chest ached. I grabbed a pack of Oreos and put them in the cart. Liam had died asking for me to take care of his brother.

"I promise, Liam. I'll do whatever I need to do," I whispered, hoping that wherever he was, he could hear me.