Chapter 19 #3
“It is many things,” he murmured, devouring my throat with his eyes before blinking from his daze, “but to put it plainly, it is the realm where the manifestations of Old Gods and the fears of man experience their physical births. Where black magic wielders are punished for their crimes and karmic beasts roam free.” His expression darkened.
“In essence, it is a prison cell for humanity’s darkest intentions. ”
“Then why are you here?”
“Necromancy. A failed attempt to bring you back, but Baneful magic nonetheless.”
My chest tightened. “And you’ve waited here for me all this time?”
“I would wait until the end of time for you if I had to.” He placed a hand on my shoulder.
I swallowed hard, my body going stiff as I tentatively welcomed his touch for the first time. “That’s … a long time. How did you know I’d even come back?”
“I knew your connection to this place would lead you back to me one day, if only I remained steadfast. Every choice I have made has been to ensure we were reunited.” He closed more of the gap between us.
“I have been fighting to break through to you for years; to guide you to this meadow where I could finally approach you in my true form, but you have managed to block me out at every turn, you sweet, stubborn woman.” He chuckled.
“Now that you have finally let me in, let this world in, I promise to remain by your side for as long as you’ll have me. ”
A twinge of disbelief struck me again. “How did you know it was me? I mean, this is a big place, and I haven’t exactly had a consistent body.”
“You become aware of many things when death removes you from the land of the living.” He took another shallow step toward me.
“Our souls have always been destined to find one another again. Something as trivial as what body encases your soul? That is nothing for a connection like ours to overcome. I would know you anywhere.”
“A bold claim.”
“Ours is a bold love.”
I took a step back, a snarl in my center. “How can you remember me and I remember the twins, but I …”
“Don’t remember me?” he finished. “You will. Rest assured, you will, my dear. These things, this bond, it requires more to recall. Blood recognizes its own far quicker. It’s a primal knowing.
What we share? It takes patience. Something I feel I am quite skilled at after centuries of loving and losing you. ”
“Pretty words.” I searched his eyes. “But how … how do I know I can trust you?”
“The same way you always have. Allow me to earn it.” He offered me his hand. “Allow me to remind you how it feels to be loved by me, Fey.”
The knot in my stomach loosened, warmth pooling in my chest. Maybe not everything in the Shroud was worthy of fear.
Maybe I could trust him. Why else would he have saved me?
Given me glimpses of my past, my babies, and that precious bond I’d internally mourned all these years, if he meant me harm?
He’d given them back to me, Fagan and Lynn, their memory slicking a salve over my burnt heart.
I took a slow step toward him. The only way forward from here—be it trust or betrayal in the end—was to allow him the chance to reveal what he knew.
A vision wouldn’t kill me, but never knowing …
that just might. I offered him my hand and my stomach fluttered at the soft brush of his thumb against my palm. “Show me.”
He twisted his free hand in the air, and one final vision overtook me.
Smiles, laughs, kisses, and tears flooded my mind in quick succession.
But the one that cut through the dark, reached into the empty spaces in my mind and pulled Leeran into the light, was a simple thing: us, tangled up in one another on the edge of a seaside cliff, his thumb pressed against my chin.
I blinked back into the moment to find that same thumb, fitted like a missing piece just below my lips. My bones rattled.
I knew this love.
My partner, my friend, my love—he’d waited centuries for me with saintlike patience.
Waded through time to find me. A new weight pressed on my mind and my shoulders slunk.
I … I’d forgotten him. What kind of person forgets their soulmate?
I hung my head. “I’m so sorry, Leeran … I should have known it was you. Should have seen it sooner and—”
“Shh, sweetheart. You owe me no apology,” he whispered, cradling my cheek.
Leeran leaned down, plucked an otherworldly bloom reminiscent of white yarrow, and took my chin between his fingers, gently lifting my face.
“While the road you walk in the woken world might be a solitary one, I will always be here waiting for you. You, Feyanna Masterson, are the architect of your own life, and anyone who aims to shrink you to fit into their mold can piss off, you hear me? You do not shrink yourself. For anyone.”
I forced a smile, unable to hold his gaze. “Right …”
Again, he lifted my chin, his calloused finger cupping my ear as he tucked the bloom into my hair. “Say it.”
“I … I don’t shrink myself …”
He smirked, his hand gliding down the side of my neck to rest on my collarbone, sending a wave of chills across my scalp. “I’m going to need you to say it like you mean it now.”
I heaved a breath and pushed my shoulders back. “I don’t shrink myself for anyone.”
“That’s my girl.” He rested his forehead on mine, his magic pricking my skin.
I do not shrink myself for anyone.