Billy leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching Warren tap relentlessly against the kitchen table. The rhythmic drumming was getting on his nerves.
"Relax, buddy, she'll be here," Billy said, sipping his coffee.
"It's been over four hours, Billy. She hasn't answered her phone." Warren's voice was tight, strained. The bad feeling had been gnawing at him for hours now, a sick certainty that something was terribly wrong.
Billy smirked. "Dude, this infatuation is getting out of control. You're acting like—"
"It's not infatuation!" Warren snapped. "I feel her pain. I feel her happiness. Her anger. Her loneliness. Everything!"
Billy held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it. But you shouldn't have revealed yourself, man. You were supposed to stay hidden. But no, you had to go and make yourself known at the masked ball. And now look where we are."
"I didn't reveal everything!" Warren muttered, pushing a hand through his hair.
"Not the point. Anyway, can't you track her? You always seem to find her, so what's the hold-up?"
Warren clenched his jaw. "Her mind was always open. But now? It's like she's completely shut herself off."
Billy's brow lifted. "Aren't you supposed to be… powerful?"
"You know what she is. You know she can block me out, even without trying." Warren exhaled sharply. "And you also know I'm more powerful at home, so cut the crap."
A voice interrupted them. "You two are impossible. I could hear your arguing from my room."
Rose stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Her expression was tense. "I'm starting to worry about Ana, too. We still haven't heard from her, and it's getting dark."
Warren shot Billy an "I told you so" look.
Then, as if to make the night worse, the front door swung open. Dylan walked in, dragging suitcases behind him.
Rose's eyes narrowed. "Dylan, why does it look like you're moving in?"
"Because I am," he muttered, dumping the bags by the door.
Rose's expression darkened. "Dyl… what the fuck did you do?"
"I left Anastasia."
Silence. Then, a storm.
"What?!" Rose's voice rose dangerously. "Why? And why the hell would you do that on her graduation day, you asshole?!"
Dylan shrugged, unfazed. "Wasn't planning on doing it today. But she caught me, so here we are."
Billy sat up straighter, eyes narrowing. "Caught you doing what?"
Dylan let out a short, humorless laugh. "Fucking her stepsister."
Rose paled. Warren's entire body went rigid.
Billy stood up so fast his chair scraped against the floor. "You're joking, right?"
"For how long?" Rose's voice wavered.
Dylan sighed. "Since spring break."
Three months. Three fucking months. The words barely left Dylan's lips before Warren lunged. Billy barely caught him, gripping his arm in an iron hold.
"You've been sleeping with Britney for three months?!" Rose was horrified.
Dylan scoffed, pouring himself a drink from the fridge. "Anastasia wasn't putting out. And get this—Britney's pregnant. Just found out today."
The room froze. Warren could barely hear over the rush of fury pounding in his ears.
"Did you even love Ana?" Warren growled.
Dylan smirked, taking a slow sip. "Yeah. For a while. But dude, a dog's gotta eat eventually. Britney offered herself, so why the hell would I say no? Unfortunate that she got knocked up, but that can be fixed."
That was it.
Warren grabbed Dylan by the collar, slamming him against the wall. "You son of a—"
Billy was there in an instant, gripping Warren's wrist. "Control yourself! Look at me!"
Warren's vision blurred with rage. But then Billy's words cut through the haze. "We need to find Anastasia. Right now."
Warren exhaled sharply and let Dylan go. "Where is she?"
Dylan shrugged like he couldn't care less. "She stormed out of her dad's house. Took her car and left."
Rose gasped. "She could be anywhere. Wait—wait! There's a place she always talked about. Somewhere that meant a lot to her and Bastian."
Billy and Warren exchanged a look. The realization hit them both at the same time.
"The Drake Hotel," they said in unison.
Warren didn't waste another second. He was out the door before Billy could even grab his keys.
The rooftop was empty at first glance. But then—
Warren's heart stopped.
Anastasia lay near the ledge, body slack, the city lights casting eerie shadows across her face. Beside her, an empty bottle of pills. A half-drunk bottle of whiskey.
"Oh, Ana," Warren whispered, fear closing around his throat. He rushed toward her—but the moment he moved, her body shifted and fell over the ledge.
Warren moved on instinct, throwing himself over the ledge after her. The night air roared in his ears, the wind biting his skin. Anastasia's unconscious form tumbled downward, seconds from disaster.
He reached her just in time. Arms wrapped tight around her, he pulled her against his chest and unfurled his wings. The powerful beats slowed their descent, lifting them into the sky. The city blurred beneath them as he carried her higher, away from prying eyes.
His earpiece buzzed.
"Warren?" Billy's voice was tight with panic. "Did you find her?"
"Yeah," Warren panted. "I caught her."
A pause. "You don't mean—"
"Yeah, Billy."
"Shit. How did you—never mind. Where are you taking her?"
"The Sin Hospital. The only place I know."
Billy hesitated. "That's going to stir up some rough memories, man."
"Doesn't matter. She needs help. Now. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
Billy cursed under his breath. "I'm turning around. I'll meet you there in twenty."
"Good."
As Warren soared through the night, he felt Anastasia stir. Her eyelids fluttered open, dazed and unfocused.
"See you soon, Bastian," she murmured. "I hope we'll be together forever."
Warren's heart clenched.
He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'm here, Nasa. And I'm never letting you go again."