Chapter 25
THE AWAKENING
After waking at Ry’s townhouse, the dream still fresh in my mind rattles my being and makes falling back to sleep impossible. Ry sleeps like a rock, and it proves easy not to disturb him when I creep out of bed.
I wait for the coffee to brew. Roaming through the rest of the rooms, finding myself lingering in one room in particular. It must be his office, but it is so well kept that I can’t imagine someone working here.
No piles of paperwork linger on his desk. There are no law books displayed on the shelves. No trash waiting to be taken out. I’m starting to think this must be his home office, or he is neat to the point of obsession.
I’m about to leave when I see a glint of green as my eyes scan his all but bare desk. And it’s not just any green. It is a green that belongs to me.
That vibrant green—I know it. Too well. The color being of a certain willow whose pieces lay in a tin inside a drawer of the shop, because I didn’t have the heart to throw it away.
I move closer to it on the desk, and I see it is in fact what I’ve been looking for. More confused than ever, I snatch it up. Anger rises at the thought of why this would be here. Did Ry steal it? What would he want with this ring?
Not wanting to lose it again, I slide it on my ring finger without thinking. In seconds, a thin line of blood forms from my knuckle to its base where I dragged the ring down. But that is not all.
With that one small action, the room starts to twist and bend into darkness. I’m struck with stillness, and then the panic hits me like a ton of bricks.
I’m being swept through every emotion, caught up by giant waves that keep falling into each other before I can catch my breath. Each one taking me deeper into feelings that I hadn’t even known in this lifetime—but perhaps in another.
As that thought crosses my mind, I am flooded with memories.
Beautiful memories full of laughter with lifelong friends.
Friends still known to me in this lifetime.
Memories of dancing in a familiar man’s arms, dressed in a stunning mauve gown from some time long ago.
Even the landscape looks out of this era.
From a different time and country altogether.
There are memories of me, two men, and a woman in an art room. We are lounging and taking some sort of drug and then dancing in the moonlight. I flash through castles, fields of wheat, arms I know too well. And then making love.
So much love being made. A caress on my cheek, the sensation of stubble brushing against my skin, teeth nipping at my flesh in the form of ecstasy. That is until the teeth break skin, leaving blood trailing in its path. Feral eyes and a loss of control. A loss of life. My life. Every time.
After that come the memories that aren’t so lovely. They are dark, consuming me with their rot and bruising me with their heartache. My own heart feels as if it is being squeezed by a powerful hand and being dripped of every life I watch play out.
I’ve either died at the hands of myself or a man in every one. Each life ripped away the moment I remembered too much. Every life that has ended in despair being brought on by the same two men. Mostly one in particular, Ry.
My eyes are open now. There are all these memories, but I am still left with broken pieces. The familiar man in this horrid playback is the one that lay in slumber upstairs in bed.
The other is one whose charm oozes out of him into whomever he sets his eyes on. One with moonlit hair and a vulnerability I’ve never seen in a man before. Que.
The memories are heart-wrenching, and I’m left immobile on the ground, only feeling and replaying these memories in my mind, and then—nothing. I remain. Not wanting to move for fear more memories will surface.
I hear whispers of a voice. It is Ry. He finds me curled in the fetal position on the ground of his office. Tears have stained my cheeks and left my face puffy and numb. My hands, balled into fists, grasp at the shirt fabric near my heart, which is now utterly dismantled.
There will be no going back after this. And what a shame that is, because as I look in the eyes of this man that I’ve known in so many lifetimes, but am just getting to know in this one—all I see is danger.
When he finds me, at first he holds a look of shock and worry, but then his eyes cast down at my clenching fingers. He must see what’s fitted perfectly on my ring finger. I pull myself up onto my palm, fresh tears pooling at my eyes, and one hand still gripping my chest.
“You,” I choke out. “Have you known all this time? Is that why you stole my ring?”
A ring that belongs to me and only me. Formed out of lethal love and chaos made from the hands of this very man. A ring I now know my mother must have kept hidden and safe for so many years to keep me away from this man. This very man that has torn my whole being apart for lifetimes on end.
“Explain this!” I all but scream at him. Tears hit the floorboards as I look up to him in angst, hoping what I saw is some mistake. He looks at me unsure, as if he isn’t sold on what I now know or don’t.
“I took the ring from you for your own safety, Jade,” Ry says, and continues, “when you told me it poked you, I knew what it would do, because we’ve played this game before. So many fucking times.” He cradles my hands. For a moment, I let him until I pull them away. I can tell this hurts him. Good.
“I couldn’t let you find out. Not yet. I wanted more time with you.
The real you, not tainted by the past. Not tainted by who we have been to each other.
” He sighs. He has been here before. Same woman, different time.
“But the past always creeps in life after life…I hoped this one could be different.”
“I saw…I saw it all,” I mumble out. I cast my eyes down now at the ring. The ring that fits the box and a door in the basement of a house I now own. I see the memories of my many lives on earth and who was in them—how they ended.
But what I don’t see is what’s behind the doors, who is this man that I’ve spent all these lives with? And Que, he was in just about every life, too. How can this be? To live so many lives with the same people by my side in each?
“I need to go,” I say as I try to stand up, wobbling on my legs that almost can’t support my weight. Perhaps it is the weight of knowing that is causing me to drag? All I want to do is go process everything, and sleep. I want to sleep so badly. I want to sleep with all that I am.
“No,” Ry says low and dangerous. “That is not a good idea. I think you should stay. We should talk this out.” Ry looks at me.
I see the pain and anguish in his eyes begging me to stay, but there is something deeper, too. Something scarier within, as his panic turns to fear. I try to walk away, but Ry grabs tight onto my wrist. So tight I feel my ligaments stretch in an unnatural disconnecting.
“Please,” he whispers.
But I can’t. I need comfort without confusion, and that is something Ry cannot give me right now. So, I pull away from him and head toward the door. He slams it closed just as I open it, pushing me against it; pinning me.
There was a time before when one of us was in the dark about who we are to each other, but now I see him. I see what I turn him into. I see how he breaks me into pieces over and over in every life.
He holds my gaze, and my whole body pleads to run. He pushes himself against me. His kind demeanor turning into something unhinged. The switch has flipped, and Mr. Hyde makes his appearance.
“You see, my sweet succulent. I’m not sure you saw everything when you put that ring on, but one thing you should know is that you are mine. You were made for me. Every. Single. Part. Of you.” He holds me by my ribs under my shirt. I feel his thumb grazing my flesh.
And as scared as I am by the look in his eye, I am his. I can feel this to my core, and it makes me sick. Sick of who I would become for this man. Sick of who I became in all my other lives for him until he eventually became my undoing.
If I learned anything from those memories that filled my head just moments ago, it’s that sometimes, love won’t set you free. Sometimes, it will bind you to a life of confusion and self-loathing. A cage of toxicity making you question every aspect of your being. And this is a love like that.
Without warning, Ry’s lips are on mine. I feel a sharp pinch, along with the taste of metal in my mouth. His eyes go wild, hungry, savage. I am terrified, and he can tell. He is feeding off my terror.
For her blood is the blood of the trees, and every Being wants a taste.
The sentence burns into my consciousness. Whose words haunt me now? Mine? My mother’s? All I know is that this is too much.
“Ry stop,” I gasp, “I’m afraid…you’re scaring me.”
Ry lets out a low chuckle, and his eyes spark, turning from sea foam green to an ominous bark black color. The color of roots smothered in the earth’s soil, growing stronger in darkness.
“I know you’re afraid, Jade. I can feel it. Fear is nothing new to me. Everyone fears me.” He caresses my skin with his dark words.
“What are you?” I say in a fast, shallow breath. Still pinned to the door.
I don’t think I saw everything there was to see in those visions. Things are missing. Important things. Ry smiles then. It’s evil, and I see his markings solidify.
The scars on his head move as if they are hiding something beneath. More of the same deep markings now grow around those scars, which form what can only be described as a shadow of tendrils, much like the roots of a hickory tree—then he speaks.
“There are some who would consider us demons, some of us who act more like fae, and some who would argue we behave like the gods. But we are more than that.” He bites the words into my ear.
This I know. I’ve felt in my essence all along. My connection to the trees. My connection to him. But I ask anyway.
“And what is that?” I’m afraid of his next words. I shouldn’t be, knowing that they are a part of me. His eyes twinkle with dark magic.
“We are the Beings beneath the roots,” he answers, as if this knowledge is known to all.
I act as if I know, not wanting to let him feel as if he has the upper hand.
“You aren’t the only one from whom I’ve felt fear, my sweet succulent. I’ve felt it my whole life.” He breathes me in, using my terror as a life force. I wriggle against him, trying to gain some leverage to decide my next move. Flee or stay.
“A life that has lasted longer than I care to admit. A life so long that I’ve stopped caring about anything that isn’t this anger swarming inside of me.” He looks at me, and I would think he was concerned with this declaration about his life. His aggressive facade falters before he says more.
“Don’t you see, I am feared because I don’t give a shit.” He slams his palm against the door right next to my head. “Make me give a shit, Jade. I dare you.” His words are angry and speak of violence, but I can feel in his tone, a misplaced bitterness. Sorrow for what he has had to become.
I am about to go where I know I shouldn’t. Into the depths of his gaze, wanting to wrap my fingers in his hair, but wanting to run away at the same time. Looking into his magnetic, otherworldly eyes, everything seems like a dream. Or a nightmare—which one it is at this point, I can’t tell.
Have I really lived one real moment since I put the ring on? But the metallic blood on my lip is a brutal reminder that this is true. My feelings are true. However, I trust nothing and noone right now.
I am saved by a knock at the door. And Ry looks at the clock on the wall. His eyes flash with frustration as he tries to calm himself. He steps back from me, returning to a cool, thinly masked demeanor as he opens the door.
To my surprise, an older gentleman stands at the door and gives us both a nod.
“Good morning,” he says brightly. He looks me over. I know I must look like hell, so I smile back and politely excuse myself. Fast and calmly, I grab my purse and shoes.
Ry and the older man seem to start in a deep discussion, so I use this as my excuse to sneak past them.
Ry eyes me, not wanting me to leave, but I know I need to get away while I still have the chance.
The older man looks at me again kindly and continues talking, showing no signs of letting Ry out of their conversation.
Taking a strained walk back to the main road of the town, I can finally catch my breath. I look down at my finger adorning the ring, and it shimmers, feeling at home once and for all. Too bad it’s a broken home.
I can’t help but think about the other ring spot in that box I found. Where and to whom does that belong? Why didn’t I see anything regarding that?
I move faster, putting as much distance between me and Ry as I can. I feel so full of memories of past lives. One knocking into the next. I need the answers to sort out this mess in my head, and I know just who to ask.
There were two other people in those memories of lives lived I trust with all my heart. I need to find my way back to them to unearth the truth. Even if it means questioning all that they are to me.