Chapter 1 #2
“Roley,” I call out, and his eyes dart away from Weston toward me. “You can still come with us tonight if you want, or you can wait until we figure everything out. It’s up to you.”
His eyes flicker back to Weston as he mulls over the choice. “Um, I think I’ll wait,” he says weakly.
“That’s alright, Roley,” Weston says. “Fin will be happy to see you whenever you decide.”
Roley’s face perks up at the mention of his friend, and he nods, a small smile playing at his lips. “Okay,” he says shyly.
“When are we meeting?” Mara says, pulling our attention back to her.
“Midday. When the suns are highest. We’ll see you then,” Weston says as one sword slides into its sheath. His free hand finds my lower back, and the firm pressure is conversation enough.
Let’s move.
Bending to pick up my discarded bow, I don’t bother with the dropped arrow or slinging it over my shoulder.
My arms feel too heavy, and the movement feels pointless.
If Mara can be trusted, there’s no threat anymore.
No Dane or Storm hunting us, no ambush waiting in the trees.
There’s no one to protect ourselves against any longer.
“See you soon, Roley. Mara.” I catch her stare and give her a curt nod before turning my back and striding away.
After our last encounter, I didn’t think I’d ever turn my back on Mara again.
By no means am I letting my guard down. Weston would be furious with me if I did, but the devastation on her face when she admitted Dane left gave me hope.
After everything that happened tonight and the reality it forced her to accept, I truly don’t think she’ll hurt either of us.
“Don’t follow,” Weston orders before falling into step behind me, his heavy footsteps catching mine easily. We move quickly but quietly, putting as much distance between us and them as we can. Just as the portal comes into sight, Weston’s mumble breaks the silence.
“Keep walking. I won’t risk Mara’s curiosity.”
Shadows from the towering trees of the dark forest fall over us as we briskly walk past the portal, following the curve of the path until we are no longer in their direct line of sight.
The firm press of Weston’s hand disappears from my back, only to be replaced by his fingers lacing through mine, squeezing my hand tightly.
“Near the falls,” he says, and we quickly weave through the boulder-lined pathways until we’re standing in front of the trapdoor.
Weston halts, his arm wrapping around my back and his hand settling on my hip as he looks around, making sure no one followed despite not hearing any trailing footsteps.
He bends and lifts the lid, ushering me inside, and follows closely behind.
The roar of the falls disappears the moment the trapdoor shuts with a thud, and thick silence fills the dim tunnel as the weight of what just happened settles over us.
The moment we are alone, cracks splinter through my facade, and the strength Weston urged me to hold on to shatters.
Short, rapid breaths rise in my chest as the finality of our situation threatens to suffocate me.
I clench my fists tightly, trying to squeeze away the numbness in my fingertips and focus on slowing my breathing, but it’s too much.
I can’t stop it. Spinning around, I look up into Weston’s face, unsure if I’ll find a mirror to the emotions cascading through my body, threatening to burst.
His brows draw in, and worry and concern coat his features as his eyes dance between mine. A hint of shame settles in my chest as I watch him stay strong, but when his gaze flickers to my quivering chin, then back to my eyes, I see there’s more hiding beneath the surface.
Understanding.
Weston knows exactly what turmoil I’m trying to contain because deep down, he feels it too.
He knows what it is to hold the responsibility for those around him and the sacrifice it takes to put everyone else first. He feels the failure of our attempts to get home, and the crushing defeat of losing our last shred of hope, but he’s not succumbing to it.
He’s staying strong so that I don’t have to anymore.
Wordlessly he steps closer, opening his arms wide enough so I can fall into them.
And I do.
My bow clatters to the ground as the first sob rips from my throat, breaking the fragile dam I constructed in front of Mara and Roley.
The tears and cries come freely then, sobs rolling one after another as the weight of my body and everything it has been holding up falls into him.
Uncontrollable strangled noises echo through the tunnel, hardly recognizable to my own ears.
Tears stream down my cheeks, and my eyes squeeze shut, as if I can will this all away by pretending I didn’t see that empty pouch.
Weston wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into him and holding me tight. His fingers weave through my hair as his hand cradles the back of my head and presses my face into his chest. I barely feel his lips on the top of my head as he holds me upright until his words fall on my ears.
“I know.”
Two words. In just two simple words, he’s given me more acceptance and acknowledgment than I’ve ever had in my life.
He isn’t telling me how to feel or what to think.
He isn’t trying to smooth the situation over or forcing me to believe everything is going to be alright.
He’s letting me feel everything, letting me have this moment and these emotions, and giving me a safe place to let go in his arms where I know I’m cherished and understood.
He’s feeling the same way, even if he refuses to show it.
I don’t feel him move from being too lost in the heaves wracking my body and the chaos flooding my mind. My swollen eyes and gasping breaths make it hard to focus on anything other than the guilt and despair taking over me.
Weston slides his back down the wall of the tunnel, pulling me with him, and gathering me onto his lap. I curl into a ball, my cheek pressing against his firm chest, trying to use the pounding of his heart to calm me as I shake.
With one arm still wrapped tightly around my curved body, the other moves and his hand glides gently over me, stroking my hair, my face, my back, trying to ease away my pain with his touch.
“I tried,” I manage to choke out. “I—I—”
The sobs don’t subside, and I suck in breaths through my mouth before another wrangled cry takes it away again.
“Breathe,” he murmurs. His hand settles on my face, and his thumb gently strokes my cheekbone, swiping away the rivers of tears that haven’t stopped falling.
Prying my swollen eyes open, I tilt my chin to look up at him, only to find him gazing down at me, watching me break. The tension in his jaw is the only clue that he’s still holding everything in and staying strong for me.
“If I hadn’t…gone…he wouldn’t…he wouldn’t have known,” I stutter, hiccuping and trying to push the words out. “He used it because he knew…he knew…I made him strand us all here. I failed, and it’s my fault.”
“No, Lennox. You didn’t do this.” His hand flattens against my cheek, and his eyes beg me to believe him.
“Dane fucking did this. Not you. He could have left at any time. He could have taken you with him. You tried to give hope to some of the crew, and those actions did not cause him to turn on everyone left on this island. He’d already fucking done that. ”
A tiny granule deep inside me knows Weston is right, that the moment Dane chose himself over the magic, he’d turned against us all, and he would have continued to choose himself and his reasons over anything.
Dane had admitted as much to me when revealing his plan to use me and anyone else who found the healing waters, but my actions changed his plan.
Now I have to live for eternity knowing that it was my choice that took a chance away from someone else, and condemned us all to the same fate.
“How do I tell Sig? And Stass? Jorn? Everyone. How could they do anything but hate me?”
“No one is going to hate you.” His voice is low, and I know he’s doing everything he can to soothe me, but I’m too far gone to be affected by it.
“Come here.” He lifts me as if I weigh nothing, shifting my body so I’m straddling him and he can look me in the eye. His hands wrap around my face, holding me firmly as my body still convulses with harsh sobs and rapid breaths that aren’t able to catch up.
“No one will hate you for having hope. You risked yourself to help them. It doesn’t matter how things turned out.
We all came to this island on our own, and we were lost here before you even arrived.
Dane’s dust was never an option until you tried to make it one.
You gave them that hope, but you weren’t the one to take it away.
He was. No one will put that on your shoulders, do you hear me? ”
His face is stern, but not angry. He wants me to hear his words, to understand and accept them.
He’s trying to prevent me from living the rest of my life saddled beneath the guilt of failing everyone around me, and a fresh wave of sadness washes over me knowing he cares enough to make sure I see it.
I hiccup again before nodding tersely, my eyes falling down to where my fists clench his vest.
“I wish it were just that,” I say, clenching my fingers tighter.
“I hurt you, and it wasn’t even fucking worth it.
I took away your hope.” My words are a barely audible whisper, and new tears well in my eyes at the admission.
“After all this time,” I say, my voice cracking, “and everything you did for me, I took it away from you.”
“Look at me,” he says, his tone harsh and serious. His fingers pinch my chin and lift gently until I can do nothing but stare into his fierce eyes.
“The moment you stepped onto this island, you gave me more hope than you could ever know. You’re still here.” He leans forward, closing the distance between us. “You didn’t take anything away from me. You gave me everything.”
My face crumbles as a fresh wave of tears spills over and onto my cheeks.
The muscles in his face soften, and one side of his lips turns up in a small smile.
“That wasn’t supposed to make you cry,” he murmurs, and runs a thumb over my bottom lip.
“I was already crying,” I say, sniffing loudly. I reach up and swipe my sleeve across my face, trying to wipe away the evidence of my weakness. “No one has ever said anything like that to me before.”
“And no one else ever will.” He chuckles softly, then strokes the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip again, his eyes never leaving mine. “If I have to be here for eternity, I’m grateful for whatever magic let me have you here too.”
“Maybe it’s what Dawnlin wanted all along,” I whisper, and realize that I truly believe it.
Every step of the way, the magic of the island brought me to the mountain.
It led me to the healing waters, which dropped me into Weston’s hands.
It helped me find the truth, trapping me among the victims of Dane’s actions and forcing me to truly see and trust them.
It let me off the ship, allowing me to enact my plan to steal the dust, but I don’t know if the island accounted for this change in events.
Is this the end it foresaw? The one it wants? The one we need?
Has this been the goal all along?
And if so, why?
I honestly don’t know, and I don’t know if we ever will have an answer for why we are all stranded, while the man who cheated the magic walks free.
We can speculate and try to figure it out, but nothing will change.
It is our ending, and now all we can do is move forward and be grateful that it wasn’t worse.
“If this is what the island wanted, remind me to thank it,” Weston says as he leans forward, closing that last breath of space between us.
The soft press of his lips into mine breaks the tension in my body, slowing the onslaught of guilt and fear and worry, or at least distracting me from it for a moment.
I lean into him, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, craving the sturdy and safe feel of his body against mine.
Understanding what I need, he wraps his arm around my waist and crushes me against him before angling his head and deepening the kiss.
I lose myself in the moment, the steady rhythm of his tongue stroking mine, the tightening of his muscles around me, the feel of his chest grumbling as my fingernails brush his scalp.
Breaking away, breathless, I pull air into my chest ready to lean in for more, when he presses a brusque kiss to the corner of my jaw, then murmurs in my ear.
“Let’s go home.”