6. SOPHIE
Sophie never could. She could never run from the petrifying nightmares that paralysed her almost every night since that mournful day. She was the one to blame for Cam’s death. If it weren’t for her, well, he’d be alive.
Sophie shot up from her bed. Her sheets equally soaked and suffocating, burning her skin, no, melting her skin. At least it felt that way most nights. Her chest heaved with breaths she could barely grasp as she threw her bedsheets aside. The cool evening air bit into her skin as she paced and paced.
“What am I even doing here?” Sophie whispered harshly. Her jaw taut, her fists clenched and her muscles overflowed with tension. The pit of her stomach filled with dread and her heart pulsed with urgency as her feet stepped to the dire beat of a war drum.
She ran her balmy hands across her face.
Why was she here? In the Godlands when one of her best friends had just been murdered by a man that supposedly loved her? She needed to go. She needed to run. Back to Faery. She needed to right her wrongs, even if it hurt her to.
Cal started to whine, his head tilting as she paced and paced. The sound of his concern left fissures in her crumpled heart. “I’m sorry, buddy. I . . . I need to go.”
He whined again.
“I’ll be back soon.” She wasn’t.
Sophie dived deep into the pit of mana that pooled in her stomach. It was barely there, a blip compared to the tidal wave it once was. But she tried, oh how she tried. She stumbled through the words that Zala had taught her. Point A. Point B. Traverse the Between. Find the path and lock all the points in. Promising sparks of purple mana and matter set the room alight in quick flashes.
Come on.
She tried again.
I need to get back.
She pushed harder. Clawing at the mana that she felt was not entirely her own. Her hands flexed and tensed as she tried again and again. Her breaths grew louder, between the growing grunts of frustration.
I need to go. Please,she begged her mana. She thought of Cam, his bright smile as he embraced her in Fyllera. She thought of her mother and her flowing silver hair. She thought of the Faery, the one in her childhood, it’s rolling hills and the vivid laughter of the boy who—
The purple glittering portal blew open, just enough for her to run through.
Cal barked furiously.
Sophie didn’t look back as she fell through the fabric between worlds. Violent wind rushed past her ears as she tumbled through time and space.
Take me home.
It didn’t. The portal chewed her up and spat her out. She knew she was in the Godlands still. That faint smell of sea that clung in the air. That cool breeze that she had woken up to when nightmares cleaved her soul, greeted her again.
“FUCK!” She scrambled to her feet, not caring that gritty gravel clung onto her scraped skin. To her left, an unfamiliar house stood, it’s curtains completely drawn. To her right stood a wall, twice her height covered in thick and thriving vines. She didn’t think. She just ran to it. Her hands numb and her knees aching, she scaled the wall with panic. With her fingers barely gripping and her feet constantly slipping, she fell to the ground for what was the third time.
On the third fall, Sophie didn’t get up. She—
“Care to explain why you’ve not only trespassed into my home but are now destroying my garden wall? What has it ever done to you?” His voice was low, thick with sleep.
Acheron.
She sat up straight and turned to him.
He rubbed his eyes of sleep and stifled a yawn.
Sophie gulped. Dirt clung to her skin and crumpled leaves she had accidentally taken with her on each fall, splayed guiltily around her upon the garden floor.
Acheron stood over her. His arms now crossed and his brows furrowed, though his lips gave way to a slight smirk.
She stared at him. His overbearing presence and those wings. She’d never get used to those wings, made of the starkest white and the softest of feathers. And she’d never get the chance to anyway.
Sophie’s voice was shaky and urgent. “Acheron, please. T-take me home.” She moved to her knees. She’d never thought she’d do this. Ever. But still, she clasped her hands together. Her eyes wide with desperation, brimming with fear-filled tears and her breaths, quick. “Please. I need you to—”
Acheron rushed to her. His knees hit the ground before his strong hands wrapped around her wrists to pull her hands apart.
“Sophie.” He squeezed her hands. His voice was as tender as the soft moonlight that washed across his tattooed skin.
The tears were instant then, falling down her face in helpless streams. The softness at which he uttered her name was underserved. She’d brought on the death of a good friend. She deserved no kindness. Her chest heaved as panic rolled through in unrelenting waves. Her head was barely above the water. “I need to get— I need to get back to Faery. Acheron, please. Please take me back.”
She couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t she breathe?
Acheron didn’t let her go. His hands held on tightly, squeezing hers, fronting the storm that brewed inside her. “Breathe with me, Sophie.” His eyes washed with concern as he breathed in slowly. Then out, just as calmly. Sophie’s panic stilled for just a moment as he did it again. She followed this time.
In. Out.
Acheron nodded in encouragement as he practised slow breaths with her.
Deep breath in.
Calm breath out.
And as her breath steadied, the soft hum of cicadas returned. Her vision sharpened. The cool evening air breezed along her skin.
“I hear you, Sophie. I hear you. If it’s going back to Faery you want then I will take you there. You are not being held captive here and I need you to remember that. I—” He dropped her hands between them, as if he never intended to touch her at all. The absence made her sway, or was it the mana she’d attempted to use?
Acheron steadied her with strong hands upon each of her shoulders. “You’re depleted.”
Sophie tried to blink away the weariness. “I’m fine. I just need to get back.” She sniffled, her eyes scrunching in pain as she fought away the unsteadiness of the world around her.
He searched her eyes. She didn’t really mean to, but she looked right back. She wished she hadn’t. Those turquoise, moving eyes. They haunted her in more ways than one, blended into a deadly concoction of memories, nightmares and dreams.
“Sophie. You are swaying. You can barely stand. I know you want to go back to Faery, and I’ll take you there, but not like this. Not given how I . . .” His voice trailed off, soft with sadness around the edges. He didn’t have to say it. She already knew. He wouldn’t take her back in the state she was currently in, depleted and broken, knowing full well the bloodbath that she would be returning to. The bloodbath that he’d found her in.
It was like her body had a mind of its own. Gone was the strength that controlled her muscles, and it wasn’t too long before she found herself subconsciously mirroring Acheron. The way he sat. The way his body leaned. Like reflections, they sat under the moonlight.
“Not given how you found me,” she finished for him. “You’re right.” She didn’t want him to be. She wanted to get back and . . . and do what? She had no strength in her. What would she achieve, going back to Faery? How would she confront Kaine? “You’re completely right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wouldn’t be able to achieve anything in this state.” Sophie sniffed, wiping the snot from her nose.
“You’ll get there, Sophie. With all your power back. I know it. And like I said, if you really want to go back to Faery, I’ll take you, but it might be in your best interest to rest at least for tonight. I can take you down to Faery at first light.”
He meant it. Sophie could tell by the way his voice steadied, the way his lips and eyes turned into a reassuring smile.
Sophie looked away. To the ground. To the wall she so desperately tried to climb. Her voice was even more meagre now. Her hands twisted awkwardly upon her lap as her next words tumbled out with all her emotions. “I’m sorry. About this.” She scoffed through tears, her arms gesturing to the ransacked leaves around them. She dared to look at her guardian angel then. “About how I treated you when I first woke up here in the Godlands. You didn’t deserve any of that. Rage had clouded my thoughts and clearly my vision. Though it’s not an excuse. I really am sorry.” Her throat ached all over again. She hadn’t meant to lay hands on him. She really hadn’t. She was just so blind with rage that her body took on a life of its own. But that was no excuse.
Acheron leaned a fraction forward, but as quickly as he did, he moved back even farther than he was before, as if he was stopping himself from saying something. Doing something. He moved so subtly, Sophie thought she’d imagined it.
“Consider it a non-event. You don’t ever have to apologise to me, Sophie. I understand.” A small chuckle left his lips, and his hand lifted nervously to knead the back of his neck. “Though come to think of it . . .” Acheron’s face winced overdramatically. “. . . my chest does hurt a little. I think it’s a little bruised.” He hissed as he rubbed his chest. The innocent movement showed the way his muscles peaked and the valleys of his tan torso.
Did he just make a joke?
Sophie paused. Then she stared. One, because Acheron, a guardian angel that looked like he’d enjoy killing demons, was making a joke despite the situation. Second, well, she didn’t want to dwell too much on the second reason.
“Okay, too soon with the jokes. The girl’s crying for fuck’s sake, Ash,” he mumbled underneath his breath. Acheron grunted as he stood, brushing off the dirt and gravel that clung to him.
Sophie watched every single movement with a small, bemused smile. Emphasis on the small.
He held out a hand for her. “Just sleep on it, okay? I’ll take you at first light.”
Perhaps it was the tiniest of smiles that had somehow found its way upon her face when it felt like all she knew was hollowing sadness. Maybe it was the fact that her hands were balmy for all the wrong reasons or that when she thought of home . . . the portal had led her here.
“I think . . .” She placed her hand in his. A steady thrum of electricity and pure power moved through her at their contact. Her stomach twisted and turned. Time itself paused for just a millisecond.
Acheron’s brow raised in question.
“I think I’ll stay,” Sophie said at last.
At least just for a little longer.