Epilogue #2
“But now…” A soft smile lifts the corners of her mouth. “Now that boy has returned a shining star, crumbling the walls you built to dust. You’re basking in his golden light, anchored by a love that was never truly lost, only waiting for the right season to bloom.”
Sasha nudges me with her elbow, a smug little grin on her face.
“As for your future…”
When she presses her thumbs more firmly into my palms, her eyes widen, shimmering with a spark that makes my pulse kick up a notch.
“I see a canvas far larger than you ever anticipated. The flashbulbs and chaos of his world will try their best to blind you, but your shared roots are buried far too deep for them to breach. Together you will create your greatest masterpiece—a union of two souls, sealed with an undying love so deep, no camera lens could ever capture the true depth of its beauty.”
My breath hitches. Shared roots. A union of two souls. Rowan and me.
Before I can even process the weight of her words, she releases my hands and turns her intense gaze to the last remaining victim.
Eyes wide with awe and sheer terror, Reyna’s hands are gripping her thighs so tight, they’re practically glued to her jeans.
“And now for you, little flame,” Madame Solis hums. Holding out her hands, she waits patiently until Reyna finally, with trembling fingers, gives hers up.
“Your past is a fire devil of inner darkness blanketed by a bright, bubbly facade,” the psychic begins, thumbs sweeping over Reyna’s petite palms. “You use your warmth and outgoing nature as a shield, keeping things light so no one can see the scars buried deep beneath the surface.”
One of Reyna’s eyes twitches.
“An anchor weighs heavy on your heart,” Madame Solis continues, voice dropping to a sympathetic murmur. “A storm of emotions reflects a parallel soul lost to water many years ago.”
Reyna’s breath hitches, her pink porcelain skin shifting to ghost-white in an instant.
“You’ve built a life around using your pain to save others in an attempt to stamp out the guilt,” Solis continues firmly.
“Running into flames, healing the broken. And when the noise in your head grows too loud, you take to the air, dancing in the sky in an attempt to stitch your shattered heart back together.”
A single tear slowly rolls down Reyna’s cheek.
“But your present…” The psychic pauses, taking a deep breath. Jeez. Dramatic effect much? “…is a turbulent storm,” she warns, brow furrowing. “You have collided with a force just as stubborn and guarded as you are—a fearless leader. One consumed by a firewall of uncertainty.”
Holy shit… Logan.
“This clash of wills is skewing your aura. Both of your paths are shrouded in a smoke screen of pride and fear. Your future...” Solis pauses, a heavy sigh parting her painted lips. “…is murky at best. Until you stop fighting the flames, you will remain lost in the smoke.”
Then she smiles. “But there is hope. Hope that will burn the walls you’re both hiding behind to ash.
I see a flashover. A moment when the tension snaps, and you will have to decide whether to run away from the firestorm or let it consume you.
Do not fear the impending storm, my dear, because it will be—”
Chest heaving, Reyna yanks her hands away, glaring at the psychic in wide-eyed alarm.
Stunned silence, thick and suffocating, blankets the room.
Madame Solis doesn’t look offended in the slightest.
Gracefully picking up her delicate teacup, she sits back in her velvet chair with a soft, enigmatic smile, acting as if she’d just predicted the weather instead of dropping an emotional barrage of nukes on top of our heads.
Noia’s shocked gaze darts around the table, taking in Reyna’s pale, terrified face and Sasha’s wide, shell-shocked eyes. God only knows what sort of look my face is portraying right now.
Quickly clearing her throat, she grabs her purse and stands up so fast she almost knocks over her chair. “Well,” she squeaks. “I think that’s enough research for today. Thank you, Madame Solis, for your time.”
We scramble like cockroaches, chairs scraping loudly against the floorboards as we practically trip over each other trying to escape. The crystal wind chimes mock us with their cheerful tinkling as we spill out onto the porch and hurry down the steps.
Once we hit the safety of the sidewalk, I take a deep breath, the crisp afternoon air helping to shatter the spell.
Reyna immediately wraps her cozy, pink knit sweater tighter around herself, keeping her eyes on the pavement as we head back toward downtown.
“Holy shit,” Sasha breathes, brushing a strand of red hair away from her face. “Remind me to never do ‘research’ with you again, Noia.”
“I don’t know,” I mutter, shoving my hands into my pockets. “I thought it was pretty enlightening. Though I might need a stiff drink to process the fact that my brother is a freaking firestorm.”
Reyna groans, burying her face in her hands. “Please don’t remind me.”
I look at my three friends—one who’s probably pregnant, another faced with two massive, life altering decisions, and one who’s not only terrified of her feelings for my twin brother, but supposedly has a dark, tragic past.
And then there’s me: Destined to build a life with Rowan, my childhood bestie turned Hollywood movie star.
The universe sure as fuck isn’t pulling any punches, is she?
And if you ask me?
I sure as hell can’t fucking wait to grab a bucket of popcorn and a comfy blanket, all so I can sit back and watch the imminent storm that lies ahead.
Stay tuned:
Reyna and Logan’s fiery
second-chance, MFM romance is coming soon!