Chapter 60 #3
“A few red toes are worth the honor of having you in my arms.” He kissed my hair and brushed away some snowflakes from my shoulders. “I think it’s time. Shall we?”
“Let’s go,” I replied, euphoric.
“Close your eyes,” Zion said, and I obeyed. I noticed him pulling his phone from his pocket, and then the world disappeared beneath my feet. The next thing I heard was the sound of rushing water right in front of me. A soft, cheerful melody began to play.
“You can open your eyes,” he whispered in my ear, and I did.
My breath caught as soon as my eyes registered the view before me.
We stood on a large, flat rock, facing the waterfall in the silent woods—this time from below, not above.
With the cascade of water, several spirits descended, glowing and illuminating everything around us.
They floated down gently, drifting with the fluid, delicate movements of their tentacles, their lights making everything ethereal and magical.
“Besides you, nothing will ever be as beautiful as this,” I murmured, my eyes wandering everywhere.
There was so much beauty it was almost impossible to believe it was real.
I absorbed every detail: the place, the beings, the music, and the love.
He turned me around, pulling my hand over my head and spinning me slowly.
It was the beginning of a dance, and I found myself biting my lip in reluctance.
“Dance with me,” Zion said, the blue light bathing his face. I smiled shyly.
“Teach me,” I said, as he brought my left hand to his shoulder and held my right hand close to our hearts.
“Just let me guide you. The basics are a step to the left and another to the right while I lead you through the waltz.”
I did as he asked, and at first I fumbled with the rotations, but soon I got the hang of it.
It worked like fighting—after the first steps and turns, my body began to anticipate the next movement.
Zion was patient and careful with me, looking like a prince of light and shadows under the warm glow of the aurora borealis.
His eyes were all the seas, lakes, and rivers, spreading across the vast continent of my heart.
The music played on and on as we danced in the light of the aurora and the water spirits.
Each note was honey and joy filling my heart.
Only then did I realize that Zion had transported us here, and I remembered Serguei saying he could only materialize in places he knew.
The memory of Zion standing beside the cliff filled my head.
I looked around with teary eyes. Any of these rocks could have been my death.
I realized he must have come here, prepared to save me from myself—or collect my pieces if I jumped.
“It was you, wasn’t it?”
Zion pulled back a little to look me in the eyes, yet kept dancing.
“I what?” he asked, confused.
“I noticed how you looked at the cliff the day I told you about Adele. You looked down, like you were remembering something painful.”
I studied his eyes and searched for feelings through the bond. Physically he didn’t falter, but I could sense something bitter coming through our connection. Zion just kept looking at me, moving us to the slow rhythm of the music. So I continued:
“Every time I came to the edge of the cliff and thought about jumping, my mind would go numb and I’d feel a comforting presence.
It was as if it begged me with phantom touches not to give up.
That was the only thing that stopped me from jumping in my first year at Interion.
Sometimes I’d just come here to feel those touches and wrap myself in the sensation that I wasn’t alone.
” He stopped moving and stared at me without reaction. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
Zion looked at me for what felt like an eternity, then finally nodded.
“It was.”
I caressed a tendril in my hair, and it nestled against my neck, warm and protective.
“Thank you for not letting me give up,” I said, pulling his hand to my lips and kissing it.
He spun me slowly in place, then drew his body close to mine. Zion looked at me as if I were the most precious thing in the world, then kissed my forehead, breathing me in as if he could store that part of me in his body. He embraced me and resumed the slow, precious waltz.
“As long as I live, I’ll never give up on you. You’re more than I ever imagined—you’re everything that matters in my life, Kyller.”
So we danced, while yonsais, tears, and emotional barriers fell around us. We held each other as if it were our salvation.
“I love you, Zion Voluz,” I murmured as the music carried us. Just me, him, and a whole future stretching out ahead.
“I love you too,” he said, looking into my eyes. “So much. An infinity of so much.”
I smiled, hearing him use the silly words I’d said a few days before.
“An infinity of so much,” I agreed happily.
We danced until our feet couldn’t take it anymore, and even when Zion picked me up to go perform the rite, my heart kept dancing in my chest...
All night long.