Later, when she opened the door to take the tray, she felt an odd chill pass through her. She glanced around, but her living room was calm and peaceful. The chill passed.
“You okay?” her chef asked. The sincere concern in the wolf’s tone tightened Kiara’s throat. “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for bringing this to me.”
“Ralph and Susie headed back to the Strip. They’re rebuilding the club. The Tribunal has approved funds to repair damage to the clubs affected by Julio’s attempted take-over.”
“Well, that’s something.” Mostly she thought the Tribunal useless. But she also knew with so much corruption rampant throughout Five Bridges, and within the Trib itself, Donaldson’s hands were all but tied.”
She carried the tray to the dining table and picked up her coffee. She took a sip and enjoyed the feel of the warm, bitter brew sliding down her throat.
Normalcy.
That’s what she wanted. She knew she’d get over Warren, though it might take years. First step, coffee and a small sensation of normalcy.
Out of the corner of her eye and coming from the direction of her bedroom, she thought she saw a brief flash of green light. She set her cup down on the tray and slowly made her way to the hall.
She moved to levitation and glided down the corridor until she reached the threshold of her bedroom.
Oh, God, no.
A man stood staring down into the grotto waters. He was tall and lean with blond hair to his shoulders. Her heart started a terrible, dull thudding.
She thought about running, but she knew it would be useless. Glissane had more than enough power to stop her. He’d already proved as much at Julio’s compound.
“Wizard Glissane. To what do I owe the honor of your company?”
Without having to be told, she knew he’d come to kill her.
~ ~ ~
Warren stared down at the frail shape of his wife outlined by the quilt she’d brought to Five Bridges the night they’d gone through their alter transformations. She’d loved the quilt. It had been in her family several generations.
She wore a white cotton nightgown with ruffles at the wrists. She was barely more than a skeleton now, but the nurses had combed her hair and it lay like blond waves against her pillow.
Her eyes were closed. She didn’t seem to be breathing.
He turned to the fae nurse to his left. “Is she gone?”
The nurse shook her head. “Not yet. But it won’t be long now. You’ve come at the right time.”
He drew a chair close to the side of the bed and sat down. He took her left hand in his and held it. There was little left of the healthy, athletic woman he’d married. She had deep shadows under her eyes and her cheeks were sunken. He petted her hand in slow strokes.
“I’m here Tonya.” There was no movement, no pressure of her fingers. Instead, a breath left her lips in a long exhalation.
The nurse moved to the opposite side of the bed and lifted her wrist to feel for a pulse. Afterward, she used her stethoscope and listened to her heart.
Warren still held Tonya’s hand as he waited. The nurse finally shook her head. “She’s gone, Alpha Warren. I’m so sorry. But please stay with her as long you want.” She then left the room.
Tears stung his eyes. She’d suffered for eight years in this room, in and out of reality. For eight years he’d visited her and had experienced only the occasional moment of recognition and clarity.
A bare remnant of his marriage to her.
Now she was gone.
He held her hand to his forehead and kept it there. He closed his eyes and wished her a swift journey to the afterlife where he hoped she would find eternal peace.
Well, don’t you look sad?
He glanced up. Tonya’s spirit was where the nurse had stood. Warren rose to his feet and a smile touched his lips. This was no misty apparition, but a full-blown ghost. Only this time, Tonya looked as he remembered her. Tonya.