38. Randi
Chapter 38
Randi
I ’m waiting at the edge of the forest.
There.
My name on the wind. The little whispers get louder, and I run, chasing them deeper into the woods. The light is gone. I twist around, but I don’t recognize where I am.The whispers fall silent.
Why don’t they come? Don’t they know how long I’ve been waiting?
Knox emerges from the shadows, but he looks wrong.
“You’re here?”
“There is nothing I won’t do for you,” he says, voice hoarse. He leans against the base of an ancient pine, looking so broken that my chest feels as though it’s ripping in two.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, panicked. I take another step toward him, but I can’t get closer. An invisible barrier separates us, and nothing I try gets me across.
Not fire. Not pleading. Not magic.
He watches as I struggle, tears streaming down his beautiful face. “I’m sorry I did this.”
I look around and notice the human camping ground on his side. This is the territory line. Is it a memory or a dream?
He laughs, but the sound is brittle, and he makes no move to wipe the tears from his face. “It’s ironic, isn’t it?”
“What?” My voice shakes, afraid of what he’s about to say.
“You’re the one who stole my heart. I never felt right in my skin until I found you. That’s because you’ve had an important piece of me all along.”
The way he says the word stole implies violence—as though I’ve ripped out his heart and left him bleeding. Was that what I was doing? Did I truly want to punish him?
His words from our night in the forest return to me. Those aren’t my mistakes . I told him he had made his own. He’s tried to atone for his. But I’ve made new mistakes.
I ran. That’s how I survived. But that isn’t going to work here. I’m ashamed of how I destroyed the nest, of how vengeful I’ve been. Instead of opening myself up, letting him apologize and finding a way together, I pushed harder. I blamed him for a long-ago past he didn’t create. He may have intended to capture me in the forest, but my hatred of his people has clouded the way I reacted to it. I closed myself off because blaming him was easier than owning up to my shit.
Honestly, it’s not a good look.
But it all felt too raw. Letting him in requires me to give him the power to destroy me. Not because he’s a serpent. Not because he’s my enemy. But because I need Knox—his passion, the hunger I feel between us. And that is scary as fuck.
“You’ve stolen mine too. That’s why I’ve been afraid. Angry,” I admit. “That longing you felt at this specific line? That was mine . You answered my call, and I’m sorry I pushed you away.”
“This isn’t on you. Maybe we both made mistakes out of fear.” He braces himself against the tree and pushes off, stumbling to the barrier. His palm lines up with mine, but our touch is blocked by an invisible wall. “You scare the shit out of me too. I don’t know how to be good at anything. But I want to be good at loving you. I’m sorry?—”
“No. Don’t apologize. Not anymore. You’re right. We’ve both made mistakes.” My voice wobbles. “What if we start over?”
His violet eyes flash. “ No. ”
I look away, knowing I deserve that. I’m ready to forgive Knox, ready to be brave and give us a chance, but maybe I’m too late.
“I refuse to give up any of my moments with you,” he hisses, the sound of the serpent’s rattle adamant and unyielding. “I accept what I’ve done. I won’t erase it.”
I bit my lower lip, holding back tears. “Then can you forgive me too? Can we find a way?—”
The smoke thickens, and I know what that means, but I’m not ready.
“Knox!” I cry out, but I can’t see him in the dense fog. “Wait! Don’t go?—”
The wind whispers, but I can’t make out the words.