Wrong Side Of Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

creating a rectangle of white against tan skin.
    Phin hauled his pants back up, turning to face me as he buttoned them. His eyes searched my face, genuinely curious. “I know things were difficult after Thackery hurt you, and you told me that you and Wyatt were giving each other space to figure things out. But something changed between you two the night Felix was infected.”
    My heart ached at the memory of that awful night two weeks ago. The evening began so normally, but had devolved into blood and violence, and ended with heartbreak. It was the night Wyatt and I realized just how much we’d both been changed by those three weeks I was with Thackery. Wyatt and I both said some things that night that had needed to be said for a while. The fight broke us both; there was no going back to how things used to be.
    “A lot changed that night, Phin.”
    “I know. I’ve seen you every day since. You’ve thrown yourself into your training and you rarely interact withanyone outside our squad except for Milo. You make it a point to avoid Wyatt, and when you do see him—”
    “What?”
    “The temperature in the room drops twenty degrees.”
    “Weather control isn’t one of my gifts, Phin.”
    “Do you still love him?”
    If anyone else had asked me that, I’d have told them to fuck off. “I’ll always love him,” I said as I leaned my unbruised hip against a supply cabinet and crossed my arms over my stomach. “But the way you love someone can change, especially if you hurt them badly enough. And what if—?” I froze, the thought stuck in my throat. Something I’d never voiced out loud, much less to another person.
    “What if?” Phin asked. He took a step toward me, hands tucked loosely in his jeans pockets. Intent.
    “Nothing.” I reached for the small pile of bandage wrappers and shoved them into the nearest waste can. As I turned to leave the cubicle, Phin blocked my way without (wisely) grabbing me.
    “What if what?”
    I heaved a defeated sigh. He wasn’t letting it go. “What if, despite all the pain and heartache we’ve endured, Wyatt and I really aren’t meant to be together? What if that’s why we can’t seem to make this work?”
    Phin tilted his head to the side, considering me, my words, probably both. “What if you’re wrong?” he finally said.
    “But what if I’m right, Phin?”
    He went silent again, his mouth pressing into a thin line. I could almost see the wheels turning, the gears clicking away as he made connections. Weighed his words. “Evangeline, may I present the Therian’s perspective on this?”
    “Go for it.” The human perspective wasn’t doing me much good.
    “Shit or get off the pot.”
    My jaw unhinged. I think my brain fuzzed out for a moment, because I couldn’t have possibly heard him say what I thought. I finally squawked out a garbled, “Huh?”
    “Granted, that’s a human expression, but it sums up my perspective very simply. Therian lives are relatively short compared to humans. You have the luxury of waffling on matters of the heart and on choosing a mate. We don’t. We must follow our instincts, make our choices, and then live with them.” He paused, eyes searching mine. “Therefore, if you are not willing to follow your gut, to choose Wyatt, and to live with the consequences of that choice, then get off the metaphorical pot and move on.”
    A small amount of time must have passed with me simply staring at him. At some point, I realized my mouth was really dry and I clamped it shut. Swallowed. I wasn’t used to being called to the mat, especially over my love life. But everything he’d said was true, and it also set my own wheels turning. Curiosity overcame shock.
    Phin and I had been friends for several months, and yet I knew very little about him. His Clan’s slaughter was still a sore subject, and I could never breach it without feeling guilty—not just for the painful reminder, but for my own role in so many deaths. Deaths of the people he