Chapter 40

Lucas stood at the edge of the clearing where the darkness seemed thicker, more absolute. It was the exact spot where James had vanished, leaving behind nothing but the lingering scent of ozone and the memory of that frantic, desperate look in his eyes. James had spoken of love as if it were a tangible weight, and of resentment as if it were a shield. To Lucas, the words were like a foreign language—vaguely recognizable in rhythm but entirely devoid of meaning. He looked down at his hands....