63. Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Three
Beau Drewitt
Decisions, Decisions, and More Decisions
The Briar residence is solemn in a way that tastes wrong in my mouth.
I step through the door and the air of Elowen’s home envelopes me with the smell of antiseptic mingled with faint lavender.
Imani is to blame for that. She definitely started that diffuser she loves so much right back up as soon as I left this morning.
Or as soon as she picked me up and threw me outside rather.
She’s probably using the diffuser now to cover up the IV smell.
Somewhere beneath it lies the stubborn scent of books and ink that clings to Elowen herself, no matter how long she’s away from my shop.
I like that she always reminds me of the store. She is my home away from home.
I follow the muted glow of a lamp down the hall until her door appears before me.
I pause there, hand on the frame. My chest tightens with a dread I haven’t felt in centuries.
Worse than the day I found out about Elowen's diagnosis. When I enter, the sight of her silences me. She had taken a turn for the worse in the night. No wonder Imani rushed me off. She’s beautiful even now, but she looks so sick.
So tired, the energy drained out of her.
Elowen lies under a thin white sheet, her body positioned with pillows holding her in a certain way.
Her skin is more pale. I can tell she doesn’t have as much color today.
Elowen’s lips are dry and her eyes are slightly puffy around the edges.
Imani had informed me that hospice had stopped by today.
She doesn’t have any IV currently, but a pole similar to the one at the hospital stands close to her bed.
A candle is lit on her dresser, the scent covering everything in the room.
It smells like books. She stirs awake and tries to turn her face toward me slowly.
The movement itself looks like labor. Yet when her gaze finds mine, a faint light sparks there.
“Why are you here?” she whispers, struggling to speak. Mi tesoro, don’t send me away again.
“Imani let me come back.” I don’t ask if it’s okay, because I know she isn’t fond of me seeing her like this.
She thinks I’m going to walk away and I’m not.
I am sticking right beside her. Elowen sighs and lays her head back flat against the pillow.
“Talk to me. If it takes too much, just let me read your mind and I’ll talk to you. ”
“Beau, please go. I’m dying. You don’t need to see me like this.”
“You say that a lot, you know?” I furrow my brows downward.
“I’m serious. Please. You’ve seen enough today to realize that I’m dying. There’s no coming back. Leave me some dignity so that you’ll be able to remember me the right way. Please, Beau.”
“Damn it, Elowen. Enough of this. Let me change you.” Before I can stop the words flying from my mouth, they are out in the open.
“What?” She speaks up, using her strength.
I approach her bedside, leaning in closer to her. My thumb brushes her cheek, more tender than normal. “Let me change you,” I whisper. “Don’t let this fucking disease take you from me. Please.”
Her eyes flicker wide at the offer, then narrow with disbelief. “We don’t even know if that would work. What if it fails? What if I die faster?” I feel it like a blade drawn across my chest.
“I’ll try. I’ll risk it. At least then, I might be able to live with myself. You’ve only known torture since you met me. Let me give you a new life, one where you can be with me and never have another concern again. No sickness. No debt. We can live in peace together until the Earth consumes us.”
Her lashes flutter, her breath uneven. “What about Kalevala? You don’t think she’ll come back?”
“I would risk everything,” I tell her. “I would put my life on the line to at least attempt to save you. I can’t stand by while you fade, knowing I may have the power to save you at my disposal, mi tesoro.
Kalevala is the least of my concerns. She knows not to ever come near us ever again.
” Her silence stretches and I dip into her thoughts again despite myself.
I see flickers of consideration, fear, longing.
She’s weighing what it might mean to lose her humanity against the certainty of losing her life.
“I’ll think about it,” she whispers finally. “I promise, I will.”
Relief surges through me, tempered by the fragility in her tone. My hand traces her cheek again, memorizing the curve of her jaw as if touch alone could bind her here. I wonder to myself, is this how Matteo felt begging Itanya to agree?
She closes her eyes briefly, then opens them again with quiet strength.
“I told Imani,” she says, “that I was going to end things with you today. For good. I’m glad she didn’t listen to me.
” The confession doesn’t shock me. I’ve slipped into her mind several times over the past week and seen her contemplating the end of us, thinking her thoughts are safe if I appear preoccupied.
“She’s loyal to you, but also knows what’s best for you,” I murmur. “I’m happy that she wasn’t a fan of your idea either.”
“She’s my only family,” Elowen says simply.
Her voice cracks, but the words carry their own power.
Her voice is so weak. I know this condition can take a lot from you, but this is the fastest I have ever seen anything progress.
I glance around the room. I look back at her, but she isn’t fading to me.
I refuse to believe she’s leaving this world.
No. She’s burning, bright even in her weakness, demanding my attention and my devotion.
“And everyone here,” I motion around us, “is my only family.” Elowen gives me a slight smile. “You need to rest,” I whisper. “Don’t waste strength on me.”
Her eyes close again, lashes dark against pale skin. “It’s not wasted,” she musters. I stay there, my hand on her cheek, my thoughts louder than ever. For the first time in centuries I’m afraid that even immortality couldn’t buy me enough time to spend with Elowen Briar.