30. Mate

Mate

Ecker

Ican sense Bishop's energy spark the closer we get to our wing, heading back from a sunset run around the grounds. 1 I feel the same. Sometimes, it's subtle, and other times it's glaring. But this feeling, this shift, when we know we're coming back to her . . . I can only describe it as giddiness, but it's so much more.

It's like my heart beats to a new rhythm when I'm with her and this awkward gallop is its transitional pace.

When we left, Sinclair was napping and Titus wasn't back yet. We haven't heard from him since last night. I hope he comes back soon. It's weird not having him sulking around.

We let ourselves into our wings and immediately upon setting foot in the common room, I know something's wrong. Bishop notices too, his shoulders tensing as he goes on alert.

I scan the room for anything out of place and spot the bag Titus took with him on the couch. But it's not that. There's something in the air that doesn't belong here.

"You smell that?" Bishop growls.

"Yeah . . ." But I can't place it. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, unease prickling my senses.

"Sinclair." He runs to his bedroom, where we left her, and throws the door open. The way he freezes, staring inside, makes the blood drain from my face.

"Sinclair!" he yells and rushes in.

I sprint after him and feel completely rocked by the scene I'm met with.

A lamp is broken on the floor. The night stand is turned over, the drawer and its few contents spilling out. The edges of the rug are flipped up. The sheets are halfway off the bed, like someone tried to hold onto them as they were dragged away.

There are unmistakable flecks of blood on the ground. Next to Bishop's hoodie that she slept in . . .

The room spins.

Bishop rips the closet door open so hard it's torn from the hinges. He throws clothes and extra pillows out as he digs inside. With a tortured voice, he laments, "Where is she?"

My stupor is broken when I hear the door to the wing open. I grab the base of the broken lamp off the floor and spin around, my heart in my throat.

"What's wrong?" Titus asks from the threshold, eyebrows fretted.

Bishop shoves past me in a blink. Quicker than I've ever seen him move, he crosses the common room and slams Titus against the wall.

His hands quake as he closes them both around Titus's neck. The growl he unleashes when he smashes the back of his head into the stone wall is low and monstrous. Titus's face turns red and he blinks rapidly, trying to regain stability after the blow, caught off guard.

"Bishop!" I yell as he bashes him up against the wall once more, throttling him.

Titus sputters, his face twisting the tighter Bishop's grip gets.

The few pieces of art on the walls rattle as he bellows, "Where is my mate?!"

To be continued . . .

1. Play "Alkaline" by Sleep Token