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We both hold each other and then lie back, watching the skies with the soft clouds, dreaming about our life together.
~Logan~
Promise me, Night. You will become a fighter with a dragon’s heart and a fierce warrior with lion’s courage. Our children will be a gift you’ll appreciate every day for the rest of your life. Find your passion, my love, and be fierce. Make our children believe in fairy tales and a love stronger than death. Tell them the story of us.
~Cassandra~
I will. I promise.
Grabbing on the crystal artifact hanging around my neck, I look at the rings encased there.
“Logan?” I sit up to look at him, touching his beating heart with my spread palm. He looks at me patiently.
“I have forgiven myself for leaving them to die. I’ve forgiven God for taking them away from me. I feel cleansed from the guilt and pain, weightless, with a desire to wake up. Mum and I made up, and Sandra’s settled inside my soul, no longer apart. I am ready to reclaim my life.”
He nods smiling at me and slowly strips me of my clothes and we make love underneath the clouds and sun, savoring a few moments of peace.
I will never let go of him.
~Logan~
You came like a pouring hurricane rain, falling slowly into my hands, our passion melting the ice. I don’t know how we can escape the storm, but you should know that once it’s over, we will find one another again.
Our fragile hearts look for a home, but your incomplete soul struggles to let me in. The winds are twirling the emotional hurricane, our time coming to an end. Falling into my arms is an angel of the night, with her incredible light shining and drawing me in like a butterfly. I don’t know if I ever will survive the tide of love you evoked in my heart.
Spin us, little gale, and drown me in your love until we give in. Don’t let me escape your strong tides.
~Cassandra~
A haunting note floats, tangling in my heart.
Confused, I step towards him, the blood chilling with an intuition of something terrible about to happen. Quickening heartbeats propel me to ask.
Gently, I touch his face, bringing his gaze to meet mine. “Am I dying?” Terrified, I hold my breath, not knowing what it means for us just yet.
The soft expression on his face tells me everything I already knew. “It is all up to you, my dark angel. You are the one holding your fate in your palms.”
I nod as if I understand, but I don’t. I feel so puzzled by this dream.
The wildflowers brush our legs as we walk, looking for the way back. A menacing feeling overtakes me, buried deep in my bones, with aching secrets needing to come out. It’s harder than I thought it would be to find the way back home. I look around, a sense of urgency lingering just underneath my skin.
We walk in silence as a storm brews ugly truths on the horizon. Instead of running away, I clutch his hand tighter, drawing his comforting warmth into my soul. Grateful for his love, I decide to not waste another minute running from it.
Until I met you, I have been sleeping, not living. I walked the earth as though I was made of steel and ice, until you applied the fire and made me anew.
You woke me up to live and drink life with a passion and fury I never knew existed. The smiles turned into laughs and sadness into happiness. You urged me to play and dance. No storm or hurricane scared you. I was healed by your devoted love.
Thank you for saving me from a death the soul cannot survive.
The words come to me without prodding, triggering something that I haven’t yet remembered, they spin around in my mind, rousing something…
We come to a crossroads. At each end, the roads are falling straight into the abyss, without any indication where it would take us. I look at the man I love, silently asking, “What now?” Logan bends to pick up the yellow thread, and I find the green just a few feet further.
I remember my mum’s mysterious message about the threads. “I think they are important.” Pulsing with life, both threads are like a path of breadcrumbs, left for me to follow.
“Let’s rest before the adventure begins, shall we?” We both sit at the center of the crossroads, my head resting on his shoulder as a sense of rightness fills me. I watch his hands twist as he holds something in them. I look harder, seeing a broken band shining between his fingers.
“Is that a ring?”
