Bonus Chapter
WESTON
The air glitters just out of reach as I watch the only woman I’ve ever loved disappear before my eyes.
Gone. She’s gone. And it was her choice.
Every muscle in my body seizes, ready to burst. My breath is trapped in my chest as chaos wreaks havoc inside me, and the storm that has been brewing since I opened my eyes and found empty sheets beside me is threatening to erupt.
Watching her turn her back and walk away was the first time I’ve truly felt helpless and completely out of control. Everything inside begged me to move, to take the situation into my own hands and bend it to my will.
But I knew there was nothing I could do.
The instant the last speck of dust dims, the dam inside me snaps.
My knees slam into the ground, cracking beneath the full weight of my fury and despair.
I fall forward onto my hands, my fingers digging into the soil, clutching the earth of this place that was supposed to give me hope.
The roar that erupts from my chest sounds as if the island has concocted a new monster that’s coming to put me out of my misery, but I know there isn’t. Nothing and no one else is here.
I’m alone.
It took every shred of control I had to stop myself from completely ignoring her command, from chasing after her. I wanted to grab her, to hold her, to fight her. To refuse to let her leave until we came up with a plan. A solution.
I would beg that woman for anything if I knew begging would work. But I know her, and I know there is no changing that beautiful, stubborn mind once it is made up. At least, not with words. I’ve done this once before, and it worked then. Now I know I have to do the same thing again.
I have to show her.
Show her I meant every word I swore to her. Show her that there is no life for me outside of her. Show her she may be my queen, but she’s more than that.
She’s mine.
I will fight for her, just not in the way she or anyone else would expect. Not at this moment. Not after she had already decided to crush me because she thinks it is what’s best for me.
It’s not.
She is.
She thinks she is the only one who is bound by duty, but I am bound by much more than the oath I swore to her.
I promised her father I would protect her and make sure she lives her life, that she is loved.
I refuse to break the promise I made to my best friend with his dying breath.
Call it selfish, but I know he saw the love I hold for her, because he’s lived it too.
There’s only one problem.
My throat is raw as I sit back on my heels, my arms falling heavy at my sides, and yell again.
“Please. Please let her remember!”
I’ve always thought the island hears us.
Too many things supported that theory, but even if it doesn’t, the magic somehow knows.
The moment I saw her, the day she arrived in Dawnlin, I thought the magic was playing some sick game.
Maybe it was. But now, after everything, we know the whole reason.
Dawnlin was trying to heal itself, and everything came back to her.
She almost died, and everything that was wrong was righted again.
So now I need it to give her back to me.
“I’m fucking begging you,” I cry out into the air.
“Please let her remember!” Scrubbing my hands through my hair, my fingers grip the strands as a deep ache settles in my chest. “I never wanted to use more of your magic. I never doubted you. I always had hope. Give it to me now. Let me have her back.”
The still calm remains unchanged, except for the rustle of the leaves in the breeze, and the distant crash of waves on a nearby beach.
I know it heard me. It always does. But, the same way it’s been for the last twenty-two years, there isn’t a reply. Only silence as a reminder of my part in this, the island’s requirement to hold on to hope, and blindly trust.
I can do both. I will do both.
But that doesn’t mean I will fucking do nothing else.
Rising to my feet, I storm through the tunnels, straight back to my ship.
I barely register the crack of the door against the wall as I shove it open and walk straight to my desk.
Slamming my hand down, I stab the point of her dagger into the smooth surface, splintering the surrounding wood from the sheer force.
I took it. There was no way I was going to let her leave with it. When I left that castle, I knew there was no remaining threat to her, so at least I can breathe, confident she won’t need it. Not yet, anyway. I needed the leverage, and when the time comes, I’ll use it.
I can’t look at the rest of the room. I lived here for so long, alone, but the years of memories were insignificant once she stepped foot into it.
Now, all I’ll see is her. Her golden hair cascading in untamed waves over the pillows, the sound of her soft breaths and noises as she sleeps.
Her tight body laid out over the wooden surface.
I need to get out of here.
I grip the edge of the desk so hard that either it will break, or my fingers will, but something catches my eye. A blank packet and roll of empty parchment sit on top of the desk, and I feel a glimmer of hope.
Maybe it heard me. If it did, if this is its sign that what I am planning is the right choice, then I won’t give up yet.
I roll out the parchment, grab a charcoal, and get to work.
I’m keeping the promise I made to her. I had no intention of breaking it, and it’s one thing that kept me standing there with my feet planted into the ground instead of chasing after her.
A rough map of the kingdoms forms on the blank page as I quickly sketch, drawing in landmarks and cities, before smoothing out a new sheet and marking the right spots on the map.
Every name. I write the names of every person who was here, in my crew, or back at camp.
I am going to go find every person and bring them back for their chance at the healing waters that was stolen.
I don’t know how long I spend pouring over the map, plotting out my course, my method. It will take time, because I don’t know how many fountains there are, or how far everyone lives from them, but she was right. Only I can do this.
Folding the lists up and shoving them in my pockets, I stomp around the room, keeping my eyes focused only on what I need, and nothing else.
I slide my vest over my shoulders, lacing it tightly, then wrap my belt around my waist and cinch it down.
My sword is still in Blackwood. I didn’t bring it back with us when we returned, so I rip her dagger from the desk, putting it in its place in my vest before storming down to the armory to load myself up.
I barely register my last moment on the ship as I barrel down the gangway, heading straight for the plateau. I don’t know whether he’s back yet. I don’t even know how long it has been. I just know I need my father.
“Pop!” I call out, over and over as my feet carry me to the same place I watched him take her away from me. “Pop!”
Rounding the last curve in the path, I’m not surprised when I look up and find him standing in front of me, the same knowing smile I saw constantly growing up on his face.
“I don’t care what she told you,” I growl, “don’t try to stop me.”
“Weston, all your mother and I ever wanted in life is for you to be happy. You are the only one who truly knows what or who will do that.”
I cross my arms over my chest and give him the surest look I can.
It has been a lifetime since we truly spent time together, but I know he hasn’t forgotten a second of it, or a bit of me, and he know’s I would tear the world down to fulfill my promises and get back to her.
“I’m going to need your help. There are a lot of people who never got their chance. ”
He nods once. “Then as the Guardian, I will be happy to give it to them.”
“Thank you, Pop.”
His eyebrow quirks, and he eyes the weapons slung across my body. “I assume we are not headed to Blackwood?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head and striding toward him until I’m close enough to be engulfed by the dust that he led me to after all that time.
“Take me to Berrendahr.”