Chapter 7 #2
A war wages itself inside me. Conflicted by my desire to comfort her and my need to keep her close.
“I do.” I ignore how she shakes her head in protest. “I know that you stayed away to keep me safe from him.” My eyes flick over her shoulder to the spirit who insists on remaining with her.
“But you don’t need to protect me. I’m not afraid. ”
“That’s because you don’t know what he’s capable of,” she insists.
“You’ve been gone a long time, Sol. You don’t know what I’m capable of.” Stepping around her, I approach the spirit.
“Name your price. What will it take for you to let her go?” I don’t have patience for games anymore. All I want is for this to be over once and for all. All I want is to start the rest of my life with her. I’m willing to make whatever sacrifice he demands.
“Nothing.” The spirit’s aura grows darker, shadows collecting around him, far more entity than man. “She is mine.” Ivan turns to Sol. “We had a deal. You would do well to honor it.” His gaze returns to mine. “Both of you.”
She forces her way between us. “I have. I will.” Despite the fear that I can feel vibrating through her body, her expression hardens with challenge. “Will you?”
“I’m a man of my word, Solaneen, you know this.
” I jerk when he reaches for her, but her fist tightens around mine.
“You forget who holds the power here. Don’t let young love make a fool of you again.
” The ghost’s spine straightens as he towers over both of us.
When I was a kid, it would have been a successful intimidation technique, but I’ve confronted my fair share of ghosts on a power trip in the years since.
Grabbing the entity by the throat, I force him backward and pin him against the wall. Everything falls silent as they register what this means.
“How did you do that?” Sol asks breathlessly as she reaches for the spirit, her hand slipping through him ineffectively. “It shouldn’t be possible; the living can’t touch the dead, can’t reach across the veil like that. Even I can only see and hear them.”
“Like I said, you don’t know what I’m capable of now.” It’s my turn to be smug as I speak directly to Ivan. “You aren’t the threat you think you are anymore.”
“Well, this makes things interesting, doesn’t it?” His hand wraps around the wrist that holds him in place, but something shifts in his hateful gaze. Instead of the escalation I expected, he retreats into the wall, fading into the abyss.
“What the hell was that?”
“A reality check.” Despite not wanting to piss her off, I squat and lift her into my arms bridal style. I’ve put on a lot of muscle since we were kids, so I figured this would be easy, but her resistance makes it much more of a challenge than I expected.
“What do you think you’re doing?” My muscles strain as she attempts to escape my arms, but I revel in having her soft body against mine again, my hands squeezing into her plush thighs and waist. Not quite handsy but relishing in finally having what’s mine in my grasp.
“Put me down.” I ignore her and ascend the tight, spiraling staircase.
“You’re ridiculous. You do know I can walk, even without both my arms free, don’t you? I’m not that uncoordinated,” she huffs.
An easy laugh escapes me, and she relaxes slightly as we near the top. “I used a blend of cleansing and banishing herbs . A mixture me and my team have been formulating over the last year.”
“Your team?” It’s almost as if I can see her organizing the bits of information I’ve shared into her internal filing system—the way she processes details is fascinating.
“I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”
“Why not now?” She objects.
“Because you’ve already had to take in too much today.” I hold her close to me. “Your eyes are growing heavier by the second, and your speech is slowing; all of this has completely drained you.
“You can’t expect me to just go to sleep after you’ve kidnapped me, somehow temporarily banished Ivan, handcuffed us together…” she lists each item off on the fingers of her free hand, “...and am seeing you again for the first time in years?”
“Yes.” Shoving a door open, we enter the main bedroom.
Our bedroom. The gold details catch the moonlight on the wall, and dark paint reflects that same light back at us, illuminating some of the framed photos of us at so many different ages—bonfires, foraging, and that last autumn when everything was still perfect.
“Thorne,” she begins quietly.
I groan at the sweetness of my nickname coming from her mouth. “Say it again.” In a breath, we’re face to face, hips pressing together, my hand clutching the hair at the nape of her neck.
She remains stiff and silent as I greedily lick the remnants of intimacy from her lips. When I don’t release her, she slips her hand between us, pressing firmly against my chest.
“We’re not doing this. Unlock this and show me to my room.”
“You’re looking at it.” I can’t help the smile that overcomes me as she computes what I’ve just said. “You’re going to sleep beside me, attached to me, so you don’t go running off. I meant it when I said I wasn’t letting you get away.” I pull back the covers with a flourish.
Her silence gives way to frustration. “I’m telling you now, there’s no point.
I’ve tried everything. State after state, expert after expert, witches, mediums, psychics, I’ve tried it all.
I’ve begged, I’ve raged, I’ve—” Taking a deep breath, she steadies herself.
“There’s nothing that can be done. You should let me go before he comes back and—”
“And what?” I challenge.
“Hawthorne, if not for your own sake, then mine, please just trust me. The fallout of this will be horrific if you don’t let me go.”
Fingers intertwining with the short length of chain, I pull her to me, so she’s forced to climb onto the edge of the bed. “I’ll say this once more. He will take you from me over my dead body.”
“I have no doubt he can find a way to ensure that’s the case.” She sighs defeatedly. “You have no idea what it was like to see the light leave your eyes; it’s haunted me far worse than his antics. I don’t intend to witness that again. I can’t bear it.”
“I can’t imagine. But the years that have passed without you have been an absolute nightmare, Sol. I know what’s at stake. I’m not running anymore, and neither are you. Believe in me or not; that’s up to you, but I’ve never broken a promise to you, and I don’t intend to start.”
Her jaw tenses as she watches me intently.
Sliding into the bed, I lay down, patting the mattress for her to do the same.
Argumentative energy vibrates from within her as she stares holes into the ceiling, but her throat works harshly.
I don’t need her to say anything to know that she can’t vocalize what she wants.
Not because she’s afraid of my response or because she’s trying to hold her tongue, but because she quite literally can’t get the words out.
Stress has always been a major trigger that impairs her ability to communicate verbally.
That I’m responsible for overstimulating her in this way breaks my heart.
It’s as if she sees the realization in my eyes as she shakes her head, defying the tears that gather on her lashes.
If there’s one thing Sol hates, it’s pity or being vulnerable.
But I don’t pity her, and she’s safe with me. I need to remind her of that.
Locking my fingers with hers, I turn on my side to face her. “I’ve got you. I’ve got us.” My lips catch the stray tear that slides down her temple. “All you need to do is trust me. I promise—you’re going to be okay.”
For some people, the soft crash of rolling ocean waves is the most peaceful sound.
For me, it’s Sol’s breathing. The smooth sailing of air in and out of her nose, filling her lungs, sustaining her life, is the only sound that puts me at ease.
And it sounds so much better coming from right next to me rather than some low-quality recording.
But those were desperate times.
The darker part of my mind chimes in... At least I still have it. Just in case she leaves. Just in case she’s taken from me.
No. I don’t accept those possibilities. She’s not going anywhere.
Carefully, I shift closer, just enough so I can feel the sacred solace of her warmth.
Inhaling deeply, I search for the incense that clings to her hair and the earthy scent of her skin beneath the delicious notes of the smoky plum of her perfume, which she now wears.
It washes over me, soothing like a well-loved candle and the comfort of home.
My shoulders sink into the mattress, my neck fully rests on the pillow, instead of those central muscles straining for the sound of the front door opening.
Instead of the rocky current of worry, there’s a steadiness in my gut, a sense of rightness.
It’s not lost on me how quickly she drifted off, and without the TV on, at that.
I did it. She’s here. She’s home. I can rest.
Sleep doesn’t keep me, though. There’s something waiting for me in the night. A feeling I know well.
One by one, my senses snap into wakefulness at the feel of skin on skin.
My breath stills as pressure increases against my hips.
Soft thighs hug me on either side. It’s muscle memory to slide my hands under the curve of her ass, feeling the full weight of her there.
Above me, Solaneen straddles my waist, an image that would be a dream if she weren’t clutching the knife I keep hidden in the bedpost over my chest.
“This is new.” I aim for levity as I get my bearings, but it’s difficult to do when there’s no fire in her eyes as she stares down at me.
The whites of her eyes glow like moonstone.
There’s nothing there. Looking out of the windows of her soul is a void.
That scares me more than the blade, but I bury that fear in favor of control.