Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Kallie
I can’t remember the last time I had a real dream, one that wasn’t full of torment and despair, or other times, when my mind goes completely blank, and before I know it, I’m awake, facing the day’s obstacles.
An array of poppies litters the ground, surrounding me in their beauty as far as the eye can see.
My wavy black hair falls forward as I peer down at myself.
Dressed in a pine-green sundress, the bodice is tight fitted with lace details, coming to a V at my waist, while the bottom half flows out to just below my knees.
The lush green grass is soft beneath my bare feet, a few blades poking out from between my toes.
Closing my eyes, I breath in slowly, soaking in the blissful breeze and embracing the soft warmth the sun offers. Even if the clear, blue sky is just giving the illusion of a nice, peaceful spring day, I soak it in.
The sun is a bit blinding when my eyes open, but they quickly adjust, and I bend down to pick a red poppy from the soil.
Twirling the stem between my fingers, I try to take it all in, allow myself a moment to relax, because fuck, I deserve it.
Even if it’s fake and made up in my subconscious, I’ll take it.
Walking forward, the wind suddenly shifts before going completely still.
“You look breathtaking.” The familiar husky voice startles me, and my hand flies to my chest as my heart continues to race. Whipping around, I wish I could say I’m shocked at who is standing in front of me. Instantly, my hackles rise, and I command fire to my hands.
But it doesn’t come.
“Your powers won’t work here. Mine don’t either,” Callum confesses.
“I never needed magic to beat you in a fight anyway,” I retort.
He smirks at my comment and looks down like he’s holding something back and starts walking to his left. I mirror his movements, not daring to take my eyes off him—or stupid enough to give him my back.
“I don’t know how long I have, so I’ll try to make this quick,” he starts.
But something about him seems different.
Like he was before. And it puts me even more on edge.
There’s no doubt in my mind this is a trap, and I’ll die before he ever catches me off guard again. “To put it plainly, I need your help.”
I scoff, lips rising at the corner at his sheer audacity. Absolutely unbelievable. “You have got to be joking.”
“There’s something going on—”
“No shit!” I yell, cutting off whatever bullshit explanation he’s about to give me. “And you help him? This is your fault!”
“That’s not entirely true. You don’t understand—”
“Oh, but I do! I understand perfectly. I’ve seen the lab, the things inside those tubes. It’s barbaric.”
He takes a step forward, and I take two steps back, giving him a warning look. He releases a heavy sigh. “None of that was my fault. Can’t you see that?”
My eyes dart around the blissful paradise, the one I knew was too good to be true. “I don’t have to listen to this. Get the fuck out of my head!”
“Kallie, please, you have to listen to me.”
“No!” I roar. “I’m so sick and tired of everybody telling me what to do! Everyone always needs something from me. But what about what I need?”
“What do you need?” He seems sincere, but that’s what got me into this mess in the first place.
“A fucking break! Since the day I met you. There hasn’t been a single day that didn’t revolve around magic, death, or war.
” His eyes turn down with pity. “Don’t you dare look at me that way.
” But the words don’t come out as harsh as I mean them.
Instead, they sound soft—broken. Because it’s taking every ounce of my power to keep it together.
“I can’t do this without your help,” he confesses.
“I’m fighting every day, clawing myself back to the surface, and when I finally break free and get a breath of fresh air, it’s the memories of you—of us—that keep me grounded.
” Despite my best efforts, each word he says pulls at the cracked organ in my chest.
“Funny, the only thing all the memories of us do to me is fuel the never-ending hatred I have toward you.”
“You don’t mean that,” he states definitively.
I scoff, unbelieving of his audacity.
“You might think you do. But those feelings only serve as a reminder that you care. And I can live with that.” He takes a tentative step forward, but I find myself rooted in place.
“It doesn’t matter if you hate me. Gods, Kallie, fucking loathe my presence, hate the way I smell, breathe, talk.
I don’t care, because as long as you’re feeling something, I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.
” Callum’s steps halt once he’s only a few feet from me.
“You are the light at the end of all of this, Kallie. You are the reason I keep going and don’t let the pain consume me.
” He rushes toward me, eating up the little distance that separates us, like he couldn’t bear it any longer to not be near me.
Both his hands grab the sides of my face, and he stares deeply into my eyes—my soul. I wonder if he can read my mind, but with a quick check, I’m at ease when I see the wall is perfectly intact.
“I hate you,” I whisper through clenched teeth. And his thumb casually swipes across my cheek, wiping away the tears I can’t hold back any longer.
“I love you.”
It doesn’t matter how many tears fall; he catches each one without a word.
I try to push him away, palms open on his chest, but he doesn’t budge.
“I hate you.” I push harder, but still nothing.
“I hate you. I hate you. I fucking hate you!” My fists close, and I pound on his chest, over and over again, and he lets me, still with his hands pressed to the sides of my face, catching the tears pouring down in streams.
“Why? Why would you do this to me? Why would you leave me? Do the things you did?” I’m shaking now, not from rage but from the hollowed-out ache.
And still, he holds me like I’m something fragile.
Something worth saving. “I gave you everything I had! And what did I get in return? Pain, Callum. On a silver platter. All those nights I wanted to die. Why wouldn’t you just let me?
You broke me. Do you understand that? You took a fucking sledgehammer to my being and left me there to glue the jagged pieces back together! ”
“I’m so sorry—”
“Screw you and your apologies! Sorry isn’t going to fix what you broke!
It isn’t good enough!” I punctuate the last few words with brutal hits to his chest, but the power behind them diminishes, along with any remaining energy I had.
My forehead meets his chest with exhaustion, and he cups the back of my head with one hand and pulls me into him with the other arm wrapped around my back.
He lets me cry into his embrace, soothing me with each stroke he passes over my hair.
In this moment in time, it doesn’t matter that all the things he did weren’t of his choosing.
To my brain, it was him. It was Callum who left me in that cell, withering away, day after day.
It was Callum who took me in to get tortured, poked, and prodded.
Even if it wasn’t, my brain won’t let me forget it was his face that forced me into a life I never asked for.
Pulling away, he doesn’t let me go far. Instead, his hands reclaim their spots on my cheeks, tilting my head up and holding it in place.
His eyes say so many things that his mouth refuses to.
Against my better judgment, I attempt to see what he’s thinking, feeling, but when I do, my consciousness is met with a steel wall, hard and impenetrable.
Disappointment coils through me like an old friend, causing my stomach to sink and my limbs to go numb.
“Why, after all that you’ve done to me, do I still feel a pull toward you?” My voice is barely a whisper. “It doesn’t matter how much I hate you. I’m sucked into your magnetic orbit. No matter how much I beg to sever the connection.”
“The stars have a wicked sense of humor.” But the smile he offers doesn’t reach his eyes.
“How can I possibly trust you again?”
“I’m not asking you to. I just need you to believe me.”
I want to. Gods, do I want to, but it’s not that simple. Our eyes speak the words our mouths refuse to voice, and that pang in my chest returns when I see the man from before—before the betrayal—the person I loathed for completely different reasons, and my heart aches to feel the way I did.
Loved, cherished, and like I was the only person who saw the stars the same way he did. Right now, my mind is playing tricks, trying to convince me that’s who is standing in front of me.
But those feelings and memories get mudded with the brutality of his most recent actions.
I pull back, ripping myself from his hold, and create some much-needed space. His arms slowly fall to his sides, and the clench of his jaw does little to hide the pained expression threatening to surface. “Believe you? Callum, be so fucking for real.”
“Don’t you think it hurts me to ask you for anything? If there was any other way, I would do it in a heartbeat.”
My mouth drops in shock. “Oh, my fuck. It hurts you? Does it Callum? Well, let me tell you what really hurts.” He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“Hurt is what I felt when I woke up in that cage. Betrayal is what I felt once I realized you were sentencing me to death. Agonizing, soul-crushing pain is what coursed through my body when you walked out that door and continued to come back and take me to that fucking torture chamber!”
“I never walked out,” he says with full conviction, bypassing everything else I said.
My brows pull together. “What?”
“You said, ‘I swear to the fucking Goddess, if you walk out that door and throw away everything, that’s it.’” He strides over, but I don’t fall for it. Instead, I keep the comforting distance, processing and trying to remember for myself if he’s right. “I never walked out that door,” he reiterates.