Free Endless Magic (Stella Mayweather Series Book 6) by Camilla Chafer Page B

sweater hung over the desk chair and a laptop was open on the desk. A cup of water and a novel were on the nightstand. "What's going on?" he asked, firmly holding onto me.
    My heavy breathing subsided, but exhaustion still consumed me. "I think I had a panic attack."
    "I can see that. I sensed you. That’s why I came to look for you."
    "You did?"
    "I could feel your anguish. Did something happen? Did you remember something?"
    I shook my head as I searched my pockets for a tissue. Evan held out one to me and I took it, wiping my eyes. "That's the problem. I don't remember anything beyond what Lisette pulled out of my head. All I have is this crushing feeling of guilt for all the poor souls I left behind."
    "You didn't leave them. You went to get help."
    "There hasn't been a single report of anyone escaping. No one but me. I should have stayed and helped them. "
    "No, you shouldn't have. You could have been recaptured, and never gotten another opportunity. By escaping, you gave the other captives a small glimpse of hope."
    "Hope? I was supposed to return with help. I didn't; and now they've all been moved. We don't even know if any of them is still alive."
    "No, we don't, but we didn't find any bodies when we searched the warehouse, so we have to assume they're somewhere. If The Brotherhood went to the effort of capturing them in the first place, they must have had a reason. They'll remain alive until their purpose is served." I gaped at Evan, appalled at the sentence he spelled out. "Don't look at me like that," he said, "you've misinterpreted. I can feel your emotions, remember? We'll get there before that day happens."
    "Étoile sent out another team. I saw them leave."
    "Is that what set this attack off?" he asked, somewhat gentler this time.
    I nodded, but remained mute.
    "The only reason I'm not with them is because I'm of more use here right now." Evan released me, walking to the loveseat in the corner of the room. He moved the clothes draped over the edge and indicated I should sit. After putting his clothes away in the closet, he sat next to me, taking my hand. I curled my fingers around his, relishing the familiarity. I missed the closeness we once shared. We were developing a good friendship, or at least, we were until Auberon stole those weeks from my life; but I couldn't recall any other friend whose hand I wanted to hold more than his. The thought was puzzling, and I had to push it to the back of my mind. I couldn't even begin to think about Evan and our friendship, nor the peace I got by simply holding his hand, not when there was so much more at stake.
    "Sorry for freaking out. They probably assume I've gone nuts with some sort of Brotherhood side effect," I said, waving my hand in the general direction of the room I just fled from.
    Evan laughed, a deep, throaty sound. "Maybe."
    "They're already so worried about me, and now, I just gave them something to really have cause to worry about!"
    "They know you've been through a hard time. Getting upset is part of recovery. You endured a stressful, traumatic ordeal. They would be surprised if you didn't break down."
    "You make it all sound normal. Nothing that I've been through, or think I've been through, is normal."
    "No, it isn't. Most people don't survive being kidnapped, let alone, having their power depleted, or needing to regain their magic. But you're not a normal person. You're a witch, and you have emotions just like anyone else. You don't have to feel guilty about feeling afraid, worried, or upset or vulnerable. It's natural to feel all those things."
    "You're never afraid."
    Evan laughed again. "Stella, you have no idea." He paused, but his fingers tightened. "Every day you were gone, I went crazy with worry about you. I was afraid you were dead, but I refused to believe you actually were. Every day I experienced fear, hope, confusion, and hopelessness. Those were the worst two months of my life."
    We sat silently, both of us absorbing his candid