Chapter 2
THORNE
Idon't know how long we sit for, but as time passes, her heart rate lowers, and she slowly calms, while all I can do is stare at her from the corner of my vision.
I’ve stared at this woman a thousand times.
Hated her.
Desired her.
Needed her.
Yet I feel like I’m staring at her with fresh eyes. Her purple hair looks deeper, richer, more mystical. Her eyes are wider, brighter, more alluring. Her frame is taut and tight, but her shoulders aren’t as hunched as they were the first time I saw her.
She’s not hiding anymore. Not who she is, not what she wants, and not what she’s scared of. For the first time, she’s laid bare, vulnerabilities and all.
Her life has been turned upside down with one simple test, and in doing so, it has flipped mine right along with it.
I'm not the last shadow fae.
She's half scythe, half shadow fae.
I'm not alone.
And Odie is here too. My father's best friend.
My pulse races with the incessant need to gain as much control over the situation as I can. But the truth is, the hows and whys don't matter, not with such a startling revelation. More than that, I don't know what my first move should be.
There's only one other moment in my life when my mind has been this still and chaotic at the same time, and that day was when my parents and sister died.
My gut sinks as I recall every second of that fateful day, the moment they ceased to exist along with everyone else in the Shadow Realm at the hands of the scythe.
My small hands tremble, fear clawing at me as my father presses the golden key into my palms, capturing my shaking fingers in his.
His soft, honey-colored eyes find mine, a beacon as the sirens blare.
We’ve run this drill so many times, but this is the first time it’s been more than just a test. The screams that ring through the hallways are truer than the bones that make up my body.
“Father…” I wobble, and he holds my hands tighter.
“It’s okay, Thorne. We’re going to be okay.”
“But they’re coming. It’s not safe,” I insist, shaking my head as I will him to listen to me, but the way his mouth curls tells me it’s pointless.
“All you have to do is wait here until someone comes to get you. If the sun makes two turns across the sky and no one comes, you—”
“I climb to the highest stairwell and exit through the window.”
He nods, smiling despite the fear that glistens in his eyes. “That’s my boy.”
“And Francesca?”
“She’s with your mother. She’ll be safe, Thorne. Your job is to worry about you, okay?”
I nod, but the trembling in my hands travels up my arms instead of disappearing with his firm words.
“Now get inside, son. Get comfortable,” he breathes, and despite the thickness in my throat and the heaviness that weighs on me, I move, shuffling backward.
My back hits the wall too quickly, and my father presses a kiss to my forehead, the touch fleeting before he’s back at the doorway, offering me one final look before he nods.
I hold on to the moment for an eternity before the sound of the door shutting vibrates through the air, solidified by the lock clicking into place.
I didn’t believe that would be the last time I would see my father, but there was something in the air that day, something that made me cling to the importance of what my parents stood for.
Two passes of the sun over the hatch window, and I was still alone.
I waited a third to be sure, but by then the emergency supplies were gone and I had no choice but to reach the surface.
It took me half a day to build the courage needed, but as I pressed my palm against the glass, my heart raced, fear controlling me, and with good reason.
Death.
As far as the eye could see.
A deep breath from beside me pulls me from my thoughts, and I glance to the woman who is engulfed with a different kind of pain, one that’s the complete opposite of mine.
I lost my family that day.
Today, with the sun in the sky, she’s regained hers.
Cracking my neck from side to side, I try to unwind the tension from my limbs as I stare at her still body. I don't know how to be what she needs, but there's one thing for certain: I want to be her everything.
I need it more than my next breath, because breathing without her is pointless. I can’t live without her. Not ever.
My mind wanders as Elodie brushes her finger across her cheek, and I balk.
Has she been crying?
I internally berate myself for being so self-absorbed. I’m moving without thought, curling my fingers around her chin. Tilting her toward me, I search her eyes. I hate how much pain I see, but the wonder and curiosity shine just as brightly.
Desperation claws through me, the need to ask her what she needs to make it all better, to make her troubles disappear, runs deep, but it's obvious she's too far gone to have the answers to that. I can see it in her distant gaze, raised shoulders, and tightness of her jaw. It’s like reading a book when I stare at her.
The reality is, she doesn't need to talk right now. She needs something to ground her.
Running my tongue along my bottom lip, my mind swirls once more, but this time it’s with thoughts and ideas of how to do that for her instead of getting lost in my own troubles.
When the roles are reversed and it’s me who needs grounding, her voice soothes me in a way I can’t explain.
It’s tranquil, keeping me rooted to the spot.
Maybe I can offer her the same, or even just a sliver of what she gives me in those moments.
The second I part my lips, I almost wish I hadn’t.
“They will rise with fire in their bones and ruin in their wake, step the shadows that you reap and give more than you shall take. Blood shall bind you, love shall break you. Only in the face of death shall the path be clear; the world mourns with the final tear.”
I run my thumb across her chin as the words leave my lips, and her eyebrows gather in confusion as the corners of her eyes crinkle.
“I don't know what that means,” she whispers, and I gulp, feeling a tightness in my limbs as my shoulders bunch higher and higher despite my efforts.
“Those words have been with me my whole life,” I explain. “I thought they were to guide me, but now I'm not sure. I thought they were about you, but then… I saw meaning in myself too.”
She blinks at me softly, nodding, and I can almost see her mentally reciting the words, pinning them to each of us in an effort to understand.
“I can see why,” she rasps before exhaling slowly.
She tries to tilt her head away from me, but my grip tightens, my thumb gliding over her cheek as I stare deeper into her eyes, refusing to let her drift away again.
I hate the red rim around them, and not the one marking her eye from her magic. I mean the hue to her skin, the color that confirms tears have fallen without me even being aware. I hate that I wasn't present enough to see that she was breaking.
Desperation burns hotter through my body, but to my surprise, she opens her mouth and speaks more firmly than ever.
“Only those who drink without thirst may find me. Where the water meets the shore, the darkness you shall see. Four elements circle as one. But in your eyes shall they be gone. Look deep inside, and the book shall no longer defy.”
My heart thunders in my chest, the same feeling I imagine she just experienced as I shared words with her that she didn’t understand. “What does that mean?” I ask, tilting my head, and she clears her throat, her eyelids falling to half mast for a moment before she looks at me again.
“It's the key to finding The Fractured Book of Souls, or more simply, what seems to be The Book of Scythes. I learned about it in one of those books in the restricted library,” she offers as she takes another deep breath. “It’s believed to be the greatest treasure that the scythes believed in. It’s apparently what encouraged them, what they poured their deepest, darkest secrets into.
Yet, no one knows where it is. That’s the riddle to find it, to find anything out about myself from the words of my kind instead of the words of The Sanctum.
Well, that and my parents, but that’s not simple either, since they’re currently being held hostage by Jude.
” She exhales a big sigh, like the words took all of her energy to share.
I nod, digesting what she’s saying, and it only makes my pulse pound louder as ideas come to mind. “Do you think solving it would help get Odie and Ellie back?” I ask, my heart racing as wonder and possibility take hold.
Her eyes dip, downcast as a sense of bleakness fills the air between us.
“No,” she mutters, making my heart sink, but the resilience that vibrates through her in the next breath steals my own from my lungs. “I think the only way to get them back is to encourage Jude’s rebellion.”
“What?” I ask, and she nods fiercely. Her whole demeanor changes as anger courses through her veins, widening her eyes and adding a snap to her jaw.
“Jude Forrester has my parents in captivity; that motherfucker is going to pay. But to do that, we need the upper hand. I'm not going to him for my parents. He's going to have to come to me.”