Free Lover Reborn by J. R. Ward

turned the blade upon her own stomach.
    The last thing she had heard before the light had claimed her was him screaming—
    The screech of his chair getting shoved back made her jump, and everyone at the table went silent, all eating halting, all movement ceasing, all conversation cutting off as he prowled out of the room.
    No’One lifted her napkin and blotted her mouth under her hood. Nobody looked over at her, as if they had all failed to notice his fixation on her. But from down at the far end, the angel with the blond-and-black hair was staring right at her.
    Shifting her eyes from him, she saw Tohrment come out of the billiards room across the foyer. He had a bottle of some dark liquid in each hand, and his grim face was nothing short of a death mask.
    Closing her lids, she reached deep, trying to find the strength she was going to need to approach the male who had just left so abruptly. She had come here to this side, to this house, to make amends with the daughter she had abandoned.
    There was another who needed an apology, however.
    And though words of contrition were the ultimate goal, she would begin with the dress, returning it to him as soon as she finished cleaning and pressing it with her own hands. Comparatively, it was such a small thing. But one had to start somewhere, and the gown was clearly a generational one from his bloodline, given to her daughter to wear, as she had no other family.
    Even after all these years, he continued to take care of Xhexania.
    He was a male of worth.
    No’One was quieter about her departure, but the room fell silent once more as she rose from her seat. Keeping her head down, she left not through the archway, as he had, but through the butler’s door that led into the kitchen.
    Limping past the ovens and counter spaces and busy, disapproving
doggen
, she took to the rear stairwell, the one that had simple whitewashed plaster walls and pine stairs—
    “It was his
shellan
’s.”
    The soft leather sole of her slipper shoe squeaked as she wheeled around. Down below, the angel stood at the bottom step.
    “The dress,” he said. “That was the gown that Wellesandra wore on the night they were mated nearly two hundred years ago.”
    “Oh, then I shall return it to his mate—”
    “She’s dead.”
    A cold shiver went down her spine. “Dead…”
    “A
lesser
shot her in the face.” As No’One gasped, his white eyes didn’t blink. “She was pregnant.”
    No’One threw her hand out for the rail as her body swayed.
    “Sorry,” the angel said. “I don’t sugarcoat shit, and you need to know what you’re walking into if you’re going to give that back to him. Xhex should have told you—I’m surprised she didn’t.”
    Indeed. Although it wasn’t as if they had spent much time together—and they had plenty of topics of their own to tiptoe around.
    “I did not know,” she said eventually. “The seeing bowls on the Other Side… they never…” Except she hadn’t been thinking of Tohrment when she had gone to them; she’d been worried about and focused on Xhexania.
    “Tragedy, like love, makes people blind,” he said, as if he could read her regrets.
    “I’m not going to take it to him.” She shook her head. “I’ve done enough damage. Presenting him with his… mate’s gown…”
    “Is a nice gesture. I think you should return it to him. Maybe it’ll help.”
    “Do what,” she said numbly.
    “Remind him that she’s gone.”
    No’One frowned. “As if he has forgotten?”
    “You’d be surprised, my fair one. The chain of memory needs to be broken—so I say bring the dress to him, and let him take it from you.”
    No’One tried to imagine that exchange. “How cruel—no, if you’re so interested in torturing him, you can do it yourself.”
    The angel cocked a brow. “It’s not torture. It’s reality. Time’s passing and he needs to move on, fast. Take the gown to him.”
    “Why are you so interested in his affairs?”
    “His destiny is