CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT #2
My heart pounded so hard I thought it might break through my ribs. I wanted to scream, to fight, to reach Tristan, but my body felt frozen, as though Oliver were holding me in place just from his stare alone. Oliver’s gaze mortified me; his hatred so sharp it seemed to cut the air itself.
Time stretched, unbearable. Tristan groaned again, and it sounded off. I flinched toward him, but Oliver’s dark presence made me hesitate.
“It’s your fault he’s going to die,” Oliver grunted just then, his face growing paler under the moonlight. “It’s always your fault, Daisy, can’t you see that already?”
Tears slid down my cheeks. “Oliver…”
He hovered there, shaking, like he could hardly stand. The blood continued to rush out of him, and he winced, but his eyes narrowed on mine like the pain didn’t matter. He needed me to do what I always did: plead. I would have gladly done what he wanted if I knew it would make a difference.
But I didn’t have any hope.
I knew already that Oliver was here to deliver on his promise if I ever left.
If he couldn’t have me, no one could.
I saw the full shape of his attachment then: he needed to win, even if none of us survived it.
He’s going to die, too.
And he only cared that I go down with him.
There were no more words. I shook my head, tears blurring my vision as he raised the gun and fired.
He collapsed to the ground straight after.
My chest was on fire, every nerve screaming. Pain radiated through me, sharp and unrelenting.
I pressed my hands against the wound, a cry tearing from my throat as they came away slick with blood. Too much blood. The world tilted, spinning out of control, and I staggered backward. Darkness closed in at the edges of my vision.
As I fell, my arms reached out instinctively, desperate, as though grasping for a hand that wasn’t there. Blackness everywhere—
My vision returned.
My arms were still outstretched.
I gasped for air and clutched my chest again, and then I stopped touching the blood pouring out of me. I didn’t want to touch it. I didn’t want to know. My body hurt. Everything hurt. And then I remembered, Tristan was hurt, too. He was nearby. Hardly ten feet away.
Groaning. Tasting blood in my mouth. I twisted my body around and I crawled to his form, but every movement felt like I was pushing against a heavy weight. One foot. Two. Then three. Then…
Impossible.
I couldn’t get close enough to touch him.
He was right there, but I couldn’t reach him.
I collapsed back to the ground. I attempted to roll, but the second my back flattened against the earth, moving became impossible.
Tristan.
I could only turn my head, and then I couldn’t move another inch.
I watched, helplessly, as Tristan took his final breaths.
His eyes never strayed from mine. They held, the focus present, before the light began to die.
I let out a groan. I wanted to cry, but my body didn’t respond.
I tried to breathe, but it hurt, and I was so thirsty.
Coldness trickled over me. A flicker of something in my peripheral tried to capture my attention. Wings fluttering. The wind made the branches groan.
Tristan.
I tried to speak his name, but my mouth didn’t work.
Tristan, please hold on. Please…
I watched helplessly as his chest slowed. He held my gaze until his eyes drifted away and he stopped breathing.
I’m so sorry…
I wanted to hang on.
To try and keep my eyes open, but there was nothing left to hang onto.
I stopped feeling pain, but there was sorrow. Deep grief at the realization I’d not only killed Rowe and June, but Tristan as well. Three souls gone—
But Tristan didn’t have to die.
My vision blurred. So, I was crying then. Some part of my body was working. Hanging on. Trying to capture life as it began to fade around me.
I’m sorry, Tristan.
I shouldn’t have left Oliver that day. I should have stayed. Then Tristan would still be here. I would still be in my cage, but he would have been alright.
This was my fault.
I gasped, grasping for breath as blood filled my lungs.
I was drowning, and I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even get to Tristan.
To rest against his side as I chased after him in the afterlife.
Would I find him there, waiting for me? Would my sister and son be there?
It made me almost smile, but it didn’t feel tangible.
It felt like something dark and insidious still pulsed around me—
Another flutter.
My vision went black, and then it sputtered back to light. To the branches swaying. To my arm outstretched, my hand limp, feet from Tristan. I was so close.
The flutter again—
And then there it was.
The vibrant orange wings of a large butterfly landing on my open hand. I stared at it as it sat there, beautiful and full of life. It survived its transformation only to find itself here, on the dying hand of a fool that could have avoided all this if I had—
If I had never left.
Another flutter and then darkness and then light again to the flap of more wings. To Tristan’s lifeless face and the butterfly that landed on his bloodied cheek. Butterflies—Butterflies everywhere—flapping all about—
Or maybe it was just the one.
It felt like a dream. I was floating there. Waiting expectantly for death to find me. The cold faded with the physical pain. Love and sorrow remained, fighting inside me while everything else went quiet.
Give it up.
Give it up, Daisy.
Let go.
Come home.
“Daisy.” June’s voice.
“Mommy.” Rowe’s voice.
“Daze.” Tristan’s voice.
Their voices fought to be heard around me. Begged for me to listen. To focus on what they were saying.
“...the Cave, Daisy.”
“...Out of—”
“...the cave, Daisy.”
“Get out...”
The butterfly flew away, carrying with it the voices, leaving only one behind.
Mine.
Repeating—
Repeating—
I should have stayed.
I should have stayed…
I should have…
I should…
The last breath rushed out of me, and the world became still…then black…
Then there was nothing at all.