I trudged away from the bench, my gaze fixed on my shoes. Each step sank gently into the soft, springy grass, leaving behind faint imprints that quickly faded. I focused on that—on the simple motion of walking, the way the blades of grass bent beneath my weight—anything to pull my mind away from Jacob.

I was desperate for a distraction, grasping at the smallest details just to keep my thoughts from circling back to him.

Now that he had left – and I could think properly – I had a million new questions. He had mentioned how half-Angels where supposed to be strong and fast. I was neither of those things.

Maybe Jake had it all wrong – maybe I wasn't a half-Angel after all. Maybe the higher-ups would come after him for exposing himself to a human. Maybe this was just some cruel joke he'd concocted to humiliate me, a wicked story woven to mess with my head. But that didn't feel right. Jake didn't seem like the type of person – or half-Vampire – who would do that. Or maybe, just maybe, this was all a wild dream, something my mind had twisted in a way that made it all seem too real.

Before I could even process where my feet were taking me, I found myself almost slamming into the front door. My hand shot out to grip the doorknob, but as I did, I noticed how badly my hands were shaking. It was like they had a mind of their own, betraying the calm I was desperately trying to maintain.

My knuckles were stretched white against my skin as I clutched the doorknob. The door creaked quietly as I pushed it open, but I couldn't control the force of my emotions – it slammed shut behind me in my rush to get inside. My feet carried me toward the sofa, and I flopped down onto it, burying my face in the cushions as sobs began to tear through me.

I wasn't sure exactly what had triggered this sudden rush of emotion, but I knew it was the shock finally catching up with me. Jacob had said he was expecting a worse reaction, and I guess this was it – though it had come late, like everything else that had been buried under the weight of what I'd learned.

A million thoughts were racing through my head, clashing together in a chaotic mess, creating a wall between any sense of clarity and my swirling mind. I couldn't focus. I couldn't make sense of any of it.

I gripped the arm of the sofa desperately, hoping for something to anchor me, but it was useless. My body trembled uncontrollably, as if I had no control over it anymore. I curled inwards, making myself as small as I could, but it felt like a prison. A prison I couldn't escape, no matter how hard I tried.

Everything ached. My arms, my legs, even my eyes felt heavy with the weight of my tears. I didn't know I was capable of crying like this, with such raw, uncontrollable intensity. The fabric of the sofa beneath me grew damp, my cheeks leaving wet splotches where I pressed my face into it. The tears kept coming, as if they had no intention of stopping.

Until this moment, I had completely forgotten that just a few days ago I'd been attacked – it felt like a lifetime ago. But now, as I sat alone with my thoughts, I could feel the pain in my limbs, the tension in my body, and it all just piled on top of everything else. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I cried harder, frustration swelling inside me, adding to the storm of emotions crashing through me.

I managed to drift into a sleep filled with dreams of endlessly falling and dark abyss's, and it felt like mere seconds before I awoke, with my mother leaning anxiously over me.

Her eyebrows where knotted together in a concerned v shape, and I felt her hand softly smoothing over my hair.

"Kaitlin, honey, are you alright?" Her voice sounded calm, but she failed to hide the slightly hysterical worry twining with her features.

"Yes." The simple word was small, and my tone made it very clear that I was not alright. I squeezed my eyes shut again, and silently begged that she hadn't noticed the pain punishing my every movement.

"You don't seem alright." Damn it. She had noticed.

"No really," I said as I pushed up from my curled position. "I'm fine."

"Your eyes are red, and the sofa's wet. You've been crying. What—?"

"I'm fine," I repeated, my voice sharp this time, as if saying it louder would make it true. I wasn't ready to talk about... my situation... especially not with my mother. The thought of trying to explain everything to her—of her questioning me, pitying me, or worse, not understanding—was too much to bear.

I didn't give her a chance to respond. I turned and stormed toward the stairs, pushing my way through the overwhelming emotions still tangled in my chest. I took the stairs three at a time, each step a desperate attempt to escape, to shut out the world and the questions swirling in my mind.

The door slammed before I had a chance to think about my actions, and I flopped on my bed to continued crying.

I lay there, restless, pleading with my mind for sleep, but it never answered. The room felt suffocating in its stillness, the silence broken only by the occasional creak of the house settling. Outside, the darkness deepened, and the stars shone bright, casting their pale glow through the window. But instead of offering comfort, they made the shadows in the corners of my room stretch long and menacing.

My mind, twisted by exhaustion and fear, began to transform those shadows into figures—lurking, waiting. I tried to shake off the terror, but it clung to me. I crawled deeper into the safety of my sheets, pulling them up to my nose, as if they could protect me from the horrors my imagination conjured.

My eyes darted around the room, watching the way the shadows swayed and danced with the gusts of wind howling outside. Each movement, each flicker, felt like something just out of reach, something close and yet impossibly distant.

There was a storm coming; thunder rumbled in the distanced, alarming me more. It was unusual for me to get scared in my own house, but after all Jake had told me, my brain seemed to be turning everything into a monster.

But Jake wasn't a monster. And I refused to believe that we should be at war. I wanted to be with him.

Although my instincts where against it, I squeezed my eyes shut and forced my trembling lungs to take a few deep breaths.

I hadn't even realised I'd fallen asleep until my alarm clock went off.

I groggily reached out, slapping the alarm clock with a half-hearted swipe. My hand rubbed over my tired eyes, trying to wipe away the remnants of a restless night. The sheets were tangled in knots around my legs, and somehow my pillow had migrated from its rightful place beneath my head to beside me on the bed.

Even though the alarm had blared, I couldn't bring myself to get up. Instead, I lay there, listening to the soft chirp of birds outside my window, the sound strangely comforting yet distant. For a long moment, I just stared at the ceiling, trying to process the fog of confusion swirling in my mind.

My pillow felt damp, and when I touched my face, I realised my cheeks were still wet from the tears that had soaked into the fabric. It was clear I'd been crying, but the reason escaped me at first. Time seemed to stretch, each second slipping by slowly as I tried to gather the pieces of the night before.

Then, like a floodgate breaking open, it all came rushing back. The weight of it hit me all at once—Jake, the revelations, the shock, the fear. I closed my eyes, feeling the gravity of everything I had learned pressing down on me.

Jacob and Vampires—Angels and war—Shapeshifters and Witches—half-breeds...

Tears swelled in my eyes all over again, throwing all feelings of overwhelming back at me. The sudden wash of feelings felt like a tsunami to my heart, throwing my heart in many different directions and threatening to tear it apart.

Jacob had been waiting for this to happen – although he didn't directly tell me, he kept mentioning how he wasn't expecting such a good reaction from me. Obviously the emotions where only coming now because he wasn't there to watch my sudden break-down.

I knew him well enough by now to know that it would hurt him to see me as confused and torn-apart as this. We didn't know each other well, but the strong friendship we had quickly built over the past two weeks caused us to love each other very much... as friends. But I wanted more.