Chapter 9
Nine
Lydia
A tidal wave of memories floods my mind—it’s too much, I can barely catch each piece of his life. Everything halts, allowing another memory with his sister to come through. They’re at Verona river, not too far from here, and his sister is sopping wet jumping up and down with excitement. Ziggy gives her the most beautiful smile. It’s gentle and filled with love. The memory flashes forward to his sister running away with tears streaming down her face. Another flash, Ziggy is being dragged away by Markos and Titus.
This is the day he was captured.
As quick as this memory came in, it leaves and is replaced with the one of the day we met. Ziggy is so tired, truly ready for death. Images of the bowl, the blood, the prayers for it all to be over.
My heart aches .
All of a sudden, I see myself through his eyes. He looks at me as if I'm his savior—either I’m going to free him from the confines of his cell or of his life. I feel his heart rate pick up with my closeness, his yearning for my touch—a single kind touch. Memories come in slower now. The moment we almost killed each other, how he fought with the other part of himself, what happened with Markos, seeing me again for the first time in years, how he loved and hated our days training together. He even let me feel the night we made the pact. How badly he wanted me but knew he couldn't.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to watch anymore. We have plenty of time for me to show you anything else you want.” A thumb brushes my cheek, wiping away the tears streaming down my face.
But I don’t want it to stop, no matter how much it hurts. I’m greedy and want it all. Every moment of his life. Every emotion. But, most selfishly of all, how he sees me.
“Hey, sweet thing, you’re safe. We’ve got you.” Ziggy’s voice shifts into a softer, more bubbly tone, and before I remove my hands, I get a flash of someone different. He’s a beautiful elf with long blonde hair and silver skin. He has the same color eyes as Ziggy, but it’s definitely not him. The narrow facial features and petite nose could never be Ziggy.
“I’m Dorran, nice to finally meet you,” the elf pulls me into a tight hug—it feels so real. And when I open my eyes I see why. Ziggy’s arms are wrapped lovingly around me. Well, Ziggy’s body, but it’s not who’s in control right now.
“Dorran?”
“In Ziggy’s flesh,” he chuckles.
A giggle tickles my throat. My chest feels lighter, and my mind much clearer. “I am so confused right now.”
Dorran pulls me to Ziggy’s chest, slowly smoothing his hand down my hair. “We’re all the same, but not. A system of sorts. It’s kind of hard to explain, but all you need to know is that we all know what you mean to him.” Pulling me with him as he lies down, I feel myself drifting off. Lips press against the soft spot behind my ear. “Would it be alright if Ziggy came back?”
“I would love that,” I reply softly.
Ziggy reaches for the blankets, blows out the candle beside the cot, and tucks us in. “Goodnight little thief. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Pressing another kiss on my temple, his arm snakes around my middle pulling me tight against his chest.
When sleep drags me under, I dream of a bright future far from here—a future with Ziggy.
And for the first time, I have hope.