Chapter 41 #2
He doesn’t fight me, doesn’t yell back like he’s done before time and time again as our stubbornness butted heads against each other.
I want him to yell, to scream, to fight with me.
I want him to stoke the anger that is so easy to hide behind, because it hurts less than the misery I’m feeling knowing he let me come here to sacrifice him.
The sorry in his eyes only deepens as he dips his chin, his gaze still locked on mine.
“How could I stop you?”
His voice is a soft caress, the direct opposite of my frantic screaming, and it shatters me into pieces.
“You just stop me! You say, ‘Lennox, are you sure you want to forget everything?’ Do I have to make you repeat after me?”
His hand cups my face, and his thumb rubs soft strokes over my cheekbone. “How could I be selfish and tell you to give up the chance to save your mother, the same person I came here to save? How could I take her away?”
“Because it would take away you!” My shriek echoes off the walls of the chamber and is followed by my sobbing through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.
His other hand settles on my face, and he leans in close, clutching me to him. His brows crinkle in the middle as he begs me silently to listen.
“Then let me do this for you.”
Mouth falling open, I gape at him, sheer horror etched onto my face.
Let Weston forget? After all he’s done, all he’s sacrificed, the life he left behind, how could I decide to let him forget?
It wouldn’t only be me he lost. He spent twenty years with a family he could find back in our world, start a new life with.
He would lose every single one of them if he took my place, my responsibility.
My duty.
Why is he offering to give up even more of his life for me?
Because he swore he would.
The last thread of control I have snaps, and I feel it reverberate through me like the explosion in the mountain. I claw at his wrists, trying to hang on to him, to ground myself, as my knees give out beneath me.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
All I can do is stare back into those teal eyes, the ones that brought me back to life in so many ways, and beg them to save me once more.
“Lennox, sweetheart, you need to breathe.”
A sound like I’ve never made before rips from my chest as I try to suck in air. This feels worse than drowning, worse than giving up hope on my mother. I can’t feel my hands, my legs, my feet. My chest feels like it is caving in on itself, my breaths so shallow and sobs so deep that I can’t move.
I’m dying.
I always wondered what would pull me into the next life, and after facing death so many times on this very island and at the hands of others back home, I never thought it would be from a broken heart and an impossible choice.
Weston lowers us to the floor and kneels before scooping me into his arms and crushing me against his chest. The moment he takes over, holding me when I cannot hold myself, I completely break.
Pain erupts in my fingers as I clutch onto him, squeezing and grabbing anything I can reach to stop feeling like I’m falling. His clothes, his neck, his shoulders, his arms. My limbs move erratically, grasping at anything and unable to be controlled by my spiraling mind.
“Shhh,” he croons into my ear. His hand strokes my hair as he rocks me slowly. “Breathe, Lennox, breathe.”
I try to follow his command, but I can’t.
All I can think about is that these could be the last moments that either of us remembers each other.
These could be our last touches, our last caresses, our last words spoken, before they disappear forever.
Our entire love story vanished, leaving the other miserable and alone to watch as they are forgotten and unable to ever speak of it.
“I—I—I…can’t,” I stutter, and press my forehead into his chest.
“You can. You are the strongest person I know. You have survived worse than this. You can breathe, baby. Please breathe.”
“I can’t let you go, too,” I cry, each word punctuated by a sob.
Is this how my life is truly meant to be?
Am I destined to be alone? Every person I have needed or ever grown close to has been ripped away from me.
Just when I think I have finally found a place where I belong, both in the arms of someone else and within myself, once again it’s slipping through my fingers.
Weston or me. This choice is impossible. I can’t make it.
But I can’t let him make it for me.
“You aren’t letting me go,” he grumbles, and his hand settles on the side of my neck, pushing me back slightly so he can look into my eyes. “You aren’t letting me go. I will still be there, by your side, whether or not you remember me. Until the breath stills in my lungs.”
“It’s not fair,” I choke out, and a sad smile tips the corner of his lips.
“Nothing in life is fair, sweetheart. The one I’ve lived is proof of that.” He dips his face toward mine, the sincerity in his gaze piercing. “But every unfair second of it I struggled through was worth it because it brought me to you. Now breathe. In.”
I finally suck in a short, stuttered breath, keeping my eyes locked on his while I do.
“Again,” he commands as his hand strokes circles on my back. I follow his orders, the second breath barely easier than the last, but I will myself to try.
“Keep breathing,” he says, and I do, refusing to look away from him, and trying to soak in the feeling of his touch, because either way, I lose it forever.
“We don’t have to decide right now,” he murmurs, and my measured breaths stop.
“Yes, we do, Weston. We’re in the mountain!” I gesture around us incredulously, flinging my hand toward the wall nearest us, and he catches my wrist, bringing my hand back to rest on his chest.
“What I mean is, we can both try, and when we go back, we can decide then. All of this worry might be for nothing. We could still be unworthy.”
A harsh laugh escapes me. “That would make all of this easier.”
“Maybe in the moment, but not really. You would still have to say goodbye to Lyla.”
A fresh wave of tears fills my eyes, and he leans forward, pressing a firm kiss to my forehead.
“Whatever happens, you aren’t losing me, Lennox. I will be right behind you, like I swore I would.”
We sit on the floor of the chamber, clutching each other in silence until my breaths become steady once again, though still broken by the occasional stuttered inhale.
The panic has quieted, and despite the steady hum of anguish and worry just beneath the surface, in this moment, with this breath, I no longer feel like I’m imploding.
I’m just numb. Numb and angry with myself that I didn’t remember such a crucial detail to the bargain I so willingly made with Danwlin once before.
Maybe if I had, we never would have gone back to the fountain, or never would have let Edmond sweep us away after admitting that we were happy without having the second chance we thought we wanted.
But that was not how this night was to be, and nothing will change where we are and the choice that now sits before us. Though everything feels out of my control, I hold on tightly to the one thing I can.
“I want to do this together,” I whisper.
“Anything you want, my queen.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips, and I feel a crippling pang in my chest. The sobs rear up again, but I squash them down, doing what Weston commanded me, and focusing on my breath.
His arms loosen and he takes my hands, helping me to my feet as he stands beside me, waiting to make sure I no longer feel ready to collapse under the weight of this night.
We walk slowly together, hand in hand, across the chamber and climb the steps up onto the dais.
Light still illuminates the empty basin, and I reach inside, grabbing the hilt of my dagger before turning toward Weston.
He lifts his hand, holding his open palm out to me, and I take a deep breath before wrapping my fingers around his.
The tip of my blade trails along his skin, and blood blooms in its wake; the blood that will seal the promise to the island and upend our lives, all to save my mother’s.
When it is my turn, I don’t hesitate, dragging the same tip of the blade across my palm and watching a similar deep crimson puddle form.
“Ready?” I whisper and look up at him.
He nods, refusing to look away as he extends his hand over the basin. I mimic the motion and in the same breath, our hands turn over, and the blood falls to the stone.
From the corner of my eye, I see the droplets disappear, but I can’t look away from Weston.
Warmth coats my palm, and when he takes my hand in his, I finally pull my eyes away to see both our wounds knitting together with a flash of a golden glow, sealing the deal the same way it is sealing our fate.
The voice booms around us, and he sidles closer, his side pressed into mine as we wait for the next direction.
To those deemed worthy, healing waters will flow,
For what’s held in all hearts, the isle does know.
Don’t lose hope, as has been discussed.
In the magic of Dawnlin, you must trust.
A small glass vial appears before each of us, and my hand shakes as I reach down to pick it up. The glass is cool against my fingertips, and I watch as Weston does the same, but nods toward me.
“You first.”
The breath stills in my chest as I drag my eyes to the spout.
I begged for it to flow before, pleaded with Dawnlin to find me worthy, but this time, I don’t know what I want.
If it doesn’t, I lose my mother, but if it does, I lose the one true love in my life, the man who chose me, and sacrificed for me.
Who saved my life and protected me. The man who would lay down his own, in death and in the midst of this twisted magic, for me, so that I don’t have to suffer.
The glass jostles in my trembling hands as I lift the vial to the spout.
This is it. This is the moment that decides my fate.
Blood rushes in my ears, the roaring blocking out everything except the feel of Weston pressed into me, and the hole in the stone wall.
My chest burns from holding my breath as I wait for something or nothing to happen.
Just when I think that, once again, I am unworthy, that all the worries that just broke me and the tears shed were unnecessary, my body feels like it has been crushed once again.
Because I’m worthy, and the waters flow.