Nicole's POV
--

Everything is numb.

It doesn't hurt. It's just numb. Is this because.... No. No. It's not. It can't be.

My father visits me earlier every day. I think he's afraid I'll change my mind on my anger. I won't.

The past two weeks have been very uneventful. Breathing, sleeping, eating. Repeat. The usual. Oh! And visions have ceased like they never existed.

I feel like I'm a crankier shell of what I was. I snap more and I'm very impatient. My stubbornness has been upped if that's even possible.

And then another week passes by. And something does happen.

The doorbell chimes, alerting me of someone's presence. Walking down the stairs, I make my way to the front door and not bothering to check the peephole, open it.

Carly and Damian Amicus stand in front of me.

I feel my eyes widen in surprise.

"Nicole." Damian dips his head respectfully in a way that reminds me of Dallas. Carly smiles warmly, her smile not reaching her sad, tired eyes. Oh, the resemblance makes me ache. Except they are missing their usual glow.

"Hi. What are you doing here?" I fidget nervously. It's dangerous for them to be here. Especially Damian. An alpha on another's territory is deadly.

"To see you, my dear, of course." Carly's smile seems forced, so unlike her. Something's bothering her. Her angel glow is gone.

Opening the door, the Amicuses walk in and glance around. "Lovely house." Carly comments.

I smile gratefully and motion towards the kitchen, following as their feet patter through the hall.

After settling in some chairs, I bring both of them a cup of coffee and some creamer and sit in front of them. The lack of Dallas hits me hard.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still mad at him. He used me and that's not okay. I'm not going to be used again.

We sit in silence - the Amicuses and I - each sipping our own coffee.

"This is really good. Thank you." Damian says, tilting his head towards the coffee. I nod.

"What's this really about?" I ask after a moment. I'm a straight-to-the-point person.

They exchange glances.

"Is it true?" Carly asks quietly, looking into her coffee. My head tilts.

"Is what true?"

"You rejected him?"

"What?" I frown, my eyebrows shooting up.

Again, the exchanged glances.

"You rejected Dallas as your Mate." My frown deepens. So that's why they're here? "We want to know why."

"He used me." I say quietly, fiddling with a piece of hair.

I don't think they know the whole story.

"Can you tell us what happened? He's.....unattainable right now." Carly frowns this time.

"Unattainable? Unattainable how?"

"Just tell us what happened, Nicole." Damian interrupts, his fierce silver eyes unnerving me. I can't believe I didn't realize what all of the power radiating off of him meant.

So I do tell them. There's no point in not and they deserve to know. They are his parents. And honestly? I haven't spoken to anyone for a bit.

As the story goes on, they seem to become less and less like themselves.

"Nicole, Dallas would never do that." Carly says.

"He would never even think about doing that." Damian adds.

"He does care about you."

This makes me angry.

"If he did, he would be here rather than you. He doesn't care. He never did. That's all anyone ever tells me. That they care. No one does. I'm not going to be lied to again. You're just trying to use me like he was. If he cared, he would have told me. I don't care if he was scared. Or whatever he wants to say. He should have told me." I look at them. "You should have told me."

"We couldn't. That's something that he's supposed to tell you." Carly says.

"He should be here to tell me himself." I say through gritted teeth.

"He's dying." Damian says bluntly, taking a sip of his coffee. I stare at him, startled.

"W-What?" I almost choke on my own sip of coffee. Setting it back down, I wipe my mouth with a napkin and then look at Carly and Damian skeptically.

"He's dying. He doesn't know we're here. This was the only thing we could think of." Carly shifts uncomfortably in her chair, crossing and uncrossing her legs.

"Why.... Why is he dying?" I don't know much about Werewolves and Mates and all that jazz.

"Because..." Carly looks at me reluctantly, like she hates what she has to say. "Because of the Mate Rejection Process."

"What?" So it's my fault. They really did come here to use me.

"You rejected him. Werewolves typically die after their Mate does. When a Mate dies, the Werewolf has no reason to live and starts dying internally. Everything starts shutting down. Some do survive. Some are able to carry on. But they become depressed and suicidal. Same thing with rejection. It's basically worse because they live with the thought of not being good enough plus the typical feelings of loosing a Mate. I.... I don't want to say this... I really, really don't... But I have to. Dallas is going to die because..." She swallows and I see her eyes becoming misty. She really doesn't want to say it. "Because of you.."

"So you are using me. Just so he can live. You want me to fix him."

Carly looks up at me. "No.. No, that's not why we came. At least, not why I came." She glances at her husband disapprovingly. "I came to let you know. And to tell you the little things that you didn't know about Mates. Rejection. I am not persuading you to go. I am not telling you to. That is up to you. But you are still his Mate and you deserve to know." She smiles at me, and I feel that old feeling of kinship we had once being returned. I know she means it. Her green eyes are hard to shield her emotions so it's like reading a book. I know she means it.

Damian, however, frowns down at his hands, now empty of the coffee cup.

"He loves you, Nicole." Damian says quietly. When he looks up at me, I see the twelve year old kid in front of my father. The kid who was beheaded. And I know. I can't let Dallas die.

"Well, he should have told me." I'm still stubborn. I can't let go of things easily.

Carly nods and motions at Damian that they should leave. Standing up, Carly walks towards me, hugging me and kissing my cheek before Damian does the same. Then they head for the door. I'm not going to let Dallas die. But I'm scared that if I look at him, it won't be the same. I don't want to look at him as a Mate. I want to look at him as Dallas, my best friend. And that's when I decide. I'll go tonight.

--

My hand raises to knock on the door of the Amicuses. I'm scared; terrified. They had said he was dying. Is it too late? It's only been a few hours but a few hours can be the barrier that separates the dead from the living.

When the door opens, Carly appears with a tear-streaked face. Not a good sign. She kind of just stares at me, her face terribly sad and seeming hesitant to ask if I'm here to help.

"I'm here." I verify, making another tear trickle down her face. She nods, not trusting herself to speak, and opens the door so I can walk inside. I do, only stopping for a second to hug her and whisper that everything will be okay.

And then I head upstairs, bounding the steps two-at-a-time. I head straight for his room, finding myself inhaling the sickly sweet minty smell of him. It makes me ache.

When I open the door, I almost crumple to the ground from anger. At myself.

Dallas lies in his bed, his eyes closed, but I know he's not asleep. I suddenly don't have the courage to walk in. I'm too scared. Too weak.

"Mum. I told you I'm not hungry." He mumbles quietly. His voice is even hoarser than it was before. It makes my heart clench.

"Good thing I didn't bring food, then." I say quietly, stepping through the door. He turns his head slowly to look at me. His eyes are no longer green. At least, they don't look green. They look black. So maybe a dark green. They are dull and flat from the lack of life in him. I see now what his parents meant.

"What are you doing here?" He asks after a moment, his voice low and raspy like he hasn't spoken for a long time. I walk over to him, immediately wishing I hadn't. He's as skinny as a rail and his ribs show. His cheeks are hollow and it look as if it hurts for him to breathe. And I notice he doesn't have a shirt on. Which reveals the new scars of my name scrawled across his chest. I almost fall.

Somehow, this is worse than when I watched him get torn apart. Because then, he wasn't broken. Now he is. My father broke him. I broke him. We shattered him.

His dull eyes stare at me, seeming even more unnerving than before.

"You need to eat. You're skin and bones." I say.

"Why do you care?" I deserve that. I know I do. But it stings. "And that's kind of the point." Carly wasn't kidding. He's stopped caring. He has given up. He's stopped fighting. Never have I felt so helpless. I feel like I say that a lot.

I realize he's lying in an awkward position, as if there's something underneath him. Like he's hiding something.

"What're you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything." Comes his flat response.

"Okay. Then why is my name engraved into your skin?"

"Mason and Ian. They come every night." He responds. That's a fairly easy question. I see weeks of engravings and... Scars? All over him. The scars are slightly fading as if they are just realizing they've been on him too long. Silver. The engravings. The engravings. The engravings are like the ones on his stomach, so I know. They won't fade. My name won't fade.

"Why did Mason and Ian engrave my name?"

"To help me remember."

"Remember me?"

"Remember what I did." He coughs then, like he isn't used to speaking so much.

"Okay. Well, Dallas. I'm going to ask again. What are you hiding?" He stares at me and I have a sudden flashback vision.

Of Dallas. Draped over his bed. Mason standing over him with a wolfsbane knife. Ian holds his arms up just in case he tries to struggle. But. With Dallas's cheek pressed against the bed, I know he won't. His eyes are open, looking at Ian. Uncaring as the knife starts engraving the word. I hate the word as soon as I realize what it is.

"Let me see your back, Dallas." Something flashes through his eyes but disappears as fast as it came.

"No. I'm too tired to flip over. Just go away." And he knows he can't stop me as I gently grab his arms and turn him around. He lets out a soft exhale as his cheek presses against his bed. On his back is the word. The word from the vision.

Failure.

Black wolfsbane seeps from it, tracing bloody tears all over his back. This is the most recent one. Failure.

Something Carly told me comes to mind.

"They live with the thought of not being good enough."

Dallas believes that. He believes that I don't think he's good enough. Which makes him think he's not good enough.

I don't say anything. He just closes his eyes, breathing quietly. I touch one of the cuts. He opens his eyes, but I can see that he's numb. "It doesn't hurt?" He looks at me. "How many do you have?" He doesn't answer. That means too many to count. "Where are they?"

"Everywhere." And I almost double over.

All over his back are words. Disappointment. Dead. Mistake. Worthless. Useless. The words stretch onto his chest and sides. He's full of them. All words.

"Dallas. Do you believe these things?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"What have I done?" I cover my mouth with my hands, blinking rapidly. He's given up. He doesn't want to live anymore. "I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to, Dallas... I didn't mean to reject you... I was angry.. I didn't meant to... What have I done...?" I shake my head. "How do I fix this?"

"Let me die. Mason and Ian promised tomorrow's the day. They carved my back just before you came. But that's it. Tomorrow's the day." I shake my head.

"You can't die, Dallas. No. I was wrong. I was wrong. You hear me? You would never use me. You are good enough." He looks at me with his lifeless eyes. I thought I saw him broken then. I'd rather see him in pain. That sounds horrible, I know, but he doesn't show any emotion now. He just watches me.

"Dallas... Why do you want to die?"

"I'm not good enough. No one cares. If you don't care, then no one does. I was scared of what you would think of me. But I don't care anymore. If I don't die tomorrow, I'm just going to die in a week. I'm a failure."

I shake my head as he speaks. "No. No. No! Dallas. NO. NO! Stop!" I start sobbing, my body shaking from lack of control. "Dallas! Stop saying that!"

He pushes himself up onto his elbows, the only movement I've seen him do voluntarily.

"I'm already dead, Nicole."

I lurch forward, suddenly, kissing him. His eyes widen slightly. But that's it. I pull away quickly to wrap my arms underneath his back and press my face into his shoulder. His skin is hot. A side effect from the wolfsbane. The feeling in my stomach fades as I cry on his shoulder. It hurts to know he's given up. Because of me. It's all my fault. I never should have believed my father. I never should have believed Dallas would do anything like that. I never should have believed that he would hurt me. "I'm sorry Dallas... I'm so sorry.... I'm so...s-sorry..." My voice breaks. "I love you so much. You'd never do anything to hurt me. I know that. I'm sorry... I was wrong..."

I stay like that. When I step back, his eyes crush my hidden hope that he would feel something. His face is as blank as ever as I leave the Amicus house for the last time. After tomorrow, there won't be a reason for me to come back again.