Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
Selene
Idon’t know how I got here, but broken things tend to scatter as they crumble.
I left a part of me at the entrance to Blackthorn, a few more pieces as I forced my legs to walk up the long entrance, through the markets, and then the houses until I reached the castle itself.
More of me was left behind as I walked to my training field; some parts I didn’t need, others I don’t know how I would survive without.
The sun hits my face like a mother’s hand cupping my cheek, forcing my eyes up to look upon it. My knees sink into the fresh grass. The scent of soil and wildflowers fills my nose. It brings no peace. This feels like the end, a final goodbye to everything I once knew.
I fear I will soon know the true meaning of sacrifice; Everett always hinted he and I would find out. He paid with his life.
What shall I pay with?
“Selene!” Titus shouts as he sprints through the path that leads to my field.
“Slow down!” Tristen barks.
“Selene.” His voice is calmer now that he’s spotted me. His relief is a gust of wind onto a flame; at first, you think it silences the fire that is burning you. Then you realize relief is a trick. The wind actually provided the fire fuel.
Titus, Tristen, and I are trapped like lambs sentenced to slaughter.
I sink into the ground, finally shattering. Now I can pretend.
Pretending is an ability that has helped women survive their lives. Pretending to be somewhere else, with someone else. The world can take everything from us: our freedom, youth, material items, even those we love, but our ability to daydream is the most precious.
Pretending allows us to see those we lost, live a life that we will never be born into, plot out escapes that will never happen.
Dreams.
When we lose that, all hope turns white, not black. You see, darkness is consuming, but in those shaded layers, you still have your senses. As a matter of fact, everything is heightened; you hear more and sense greater depths. You still have hope you will find your way out.
Light is blinding, deafening. It doesn’t consume; it eradicates and strips every sense. In light, you see and sense no depths, only more light.
You are its prey.
You hear nothing, because light is faster. It’s the enemy that will always outrun you. It travels faster than darkness, faster than everything. Therefore, it will always arrive first, and those who stake their claim first have the higher ground.
Light is a warrior we can not best.
So, yes, in the darkness of my life, I can still daydream, but I fear that soon there will be no more questions, no darkness, only answers and light. No more dreams, just reality about what Galen and Sable have done.
And yes, what Everett has done, too.
“Selene! What’s happened?” Titus shadows me like a cloud, his face etched with a worry that feels like thunder. “Tristen, go get a healer,” he orders. His jaw sets into a state of firmness that rivals a diamond’s strength.
“If you find a healer who can repair time, then so be it, but if not, then stay,” I reply in a tone that resembles bones. Nothingness.
Titus drops to his knees. His brown eyes push into my green ones, like the earth trying to tell a dying tree, ‘It’s okay; I’m here to cradle you until you find your roots again.’
Yet every part of me has been sawed off, branches slowly ripped away, used as someone else’s wood to warm them as they survive.
But what about me, the tree with no limbs left?
I can spread my roots, but I have nothing left to nourish, no branches. Just hollowed out memories and hopes.
What’s the point?
That’s why trees fall. Sometimes there is just no more point in weathering this world.
“Selene,” Titus whispers life into my name. I can’t grasp it. The brown of his earthy eyes feels like a steaming cup of chai trying to soothe me as he reaches for me. “You’re hurt.” He glides his fingertips along my jaw.
That touch is so… dangerous. It can cause wars.
“Titus,” Tristen warns as he comes into view.
I close my eyes and push my cheek against the soil. If I had more magic left, I would release it, allowing the grass to grow around us. A small detail of beauty amidst all the terrors.
Tears flee from the corners of my eyes as if those tiny drops can water the dirt and bring forth the life I just dreamed about.
Two hot hands grab my face like a pillow, gently pressing into my comfort.
“I am hurt beyond repair,” I whisper. “I have failed.” I squeeze my eyes shut.
“No, you haven’t,” Titus responds. My eyes open as he pulls my upper body onto his lap. My muscles melt like metal thrown into a forge eager to be molded into something beautiful. “Tell me what has happened,” he demands. He flashes his fangs like the string of my bow ready to fire.
I sense Tristen sitting down; the sunlight darkens as he covers us in his shadow. Tristen’s eyes differ from Titus’s; they’re a colder brown, like dirt lost in frozen tundras, with streaks fossilized grey—memories he wishes to keep buried.
He scans our surroundings. He can see through his shadows. Interesting.
Titus pushes my hair off my face. “You’ve used all your magic. You feel fevered. You made yourself sick,” he acknowledges.
My lip tugs into a sad smirk. “I’d ask how you know that, but we both know how. It’s a bush we have beaten so we can walk over it. We chopped it down to the ground, but we forgot about the roots, so it continues to grow.”
“I never forgot, Selene. I allowed the roots to grow deep. I knew the cost of uprooting them was one I could not afford,” Titus acknowledges. Misery hugs his face like morning dew clinging to grass.
Another tear slides down my cheek.
Titus catches it with his thumb and brings it to his lip. “You are my mate.” He swallows my tears.
I’m a coward who has lost everything, so I close my eyes and nod, unable to speak; if I admit this, that means I can lose him, too.
Titus breathes a sigh of relief that isn’t shared by his brother, whose shadows darken.
“We have too many problems,” I eventually reply. I allow my dreams to fester behind my closed eyes, in the darkness where they are safe from the light of reality.
“Mating bonds are a gift, not a curse.” His intake of breath is sharp.
“Tell my husband that.”
“We’re not the first couple who have had a mate bond destroy vows,” Titus gently offers.
“If Galen cherished you, I’d feel guilty.
I would run and let the two of you try to work things out.
That is not our fate. I will fight for you; if I have to steal you away from him, I shall.
I will not linger in the shadows for much longer, Selene. ”
His words make me feel like a vast ocean separates us. I can’t risk swimming out for fear I’ll drown before I reach him. So, I remain trapped on my island of isolation as other boats sail by.
Tristen clears his throat. “I agree. We have too many enemies at the moment. This has to remain hidden until we can sort it out.”
I open my eyes.
“Give us a minute, Tristen,” Titus hisses. His eyes quarrel with his brother’s.
“We have too much to tell her,” Tristen counters. “We can’t do this now.”
“I need a minute alone with her.”
Tristen walks to the edge of his shadows. “One minute can change the course of the future,” he whispers his warning as he exits.
Titus cradles me in his chest. We’ve never been so close, so tightly knitted—like pages bound into a book. We could create such a beautiful story if we were born as different people. Instead, our book shall be short-lived, never given a happily ever after.
“You’re my mate,” Titus voices with a pride that has me sitting up, still cradled in his lap. My eyes peer at his hands; hands that killed my brother, hands that are trying too hard to save me.
“I felt the bond the moment we locked eyes,” I admit. “I thought the pull was my thirst for vengeance, but that quickly turned into a need for something else.”
“Why didn’t you say anything? Gods, Selene, you didn’t even react to the bond. I thought I was going mad.”
I bite down on my lip to stop it from trembling.
“Some mate bonds are instantaneous, like a burst of energy. Others are seeds that must be planted and nourished. I tried not to water it; I tried to find the seed and uproot it. We can never be, Titus. I picked one thing to focus on—one thing to water and nourish—which was helping you, not loving you. We have a mission, Titus.”
The leather covering his biceps flexes like an animal that instinctively jerks back from a deadly blow.
“I never said we didn’t, but we’re also mates.
” His fingers press into me. If there were ever a claiming hold, this would be it.
“If we suppress love, then what is the point of saving our world? I know you want the world to think you’re cold, but you forget that hidden underneath all the frozen layers can lie a volcano.
Show me your fire. Stop worrying about burning me; I know how to control the flames or fan them. ”
My exhale sounds like a bruised laugh. “Our flame is on the verge of being extinguished. I’m suppressing them to save them, to save us, Titus.
The world is crumbling.” I grab his biceps and shake him.
“Galen and Sable are winning. I don’t know if that’s how Everett intended it to play out.
I don’t know anything. I am merely a spectator watching a game that will affect me.
“I am rooting for players who carry my future on their backs. I have no choices or options because they have been made for me deceptively, just as Everett planned.”
Titus’s eyes darken, but my next words offer no light.