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“God, you’re gorgeous,” Hawthorne says, stepping toward me, and lowering the straps of my dress, letting it fall to the floor. I’m not wearing a bra, my body is before them, and what they see is what they get. What I’m giving. Everything.
I inhale, knowing everything is about to change. Knowing it already has. And Hawthorne knows me so well; tears prick my eyes knowing this may be our only time together.
“I’m scared of losing you,” I admit, a single tear falling down my cheek.
“I am too,” he admits, his thumb wiping my tear away. His hands run over my breasts, his mouth on my ear, whispering ever so softly, “I love you, Tennyson.”
And I know he does. Because when he touches me it is tender, and when he looks in my eyes it’s like he drowns, and when he presses his lips to my breasts, I feel like I’m in the arms of my soulmate, my lover, my best friend--my dream come true.
And it’s not just Hawthorne. It’s Lennox and South too, they are my forever. My center. My true north. Their arms reach around me, and I feel grounded when they surround me, when they hold me.
Like I won’t fade so long as we just stay as we are.
“I don’t want you to be buried in the Elysian Fields,” I whisper. “I want you to stay here, with me.”
“I know,” South says, his voice low, gravelly. He understands the fear. “It’s so final, right?”
I nod, my chin quivering, naked with the men I love, and we should euphoric, blissed out and indulging in what we’ve dreamt of for so long. But the rawness of what is coming seems to wrap around us, and soon the tears are streaking my cheeks.
I can’t lose my best friends.
I can’t lose the men I love.
But then... it’s not just South’s hand that is fading, so much of all of them is translucent.
“Oh, God,” I manage to get out, before I collapse in their arms, lost to the grief filling my soul.
They’re leaving. Soon.
“Oh, Tenny,” Hawthorne whispers, his cheeks covered with tears too, and I gasp, seeing that his shoulder is fading like it did earlier. I press my hand to it, willing it to stay put.
Hysteria wrecks me, and I’m holding onto them, my body pressing against theirs, needing them to stay put and while it works. It doesn’t help. My force, whatever it is, can’t keep them grounded. They are fading and we all know it.
I’m shaking, terrified and desperate.
“It’s okay, Ten, it’s okay,” Lennox assures me. “We’re all still here. We’re here. Take hold of me, Tennyson. Touch me. See, you are here. We are here.”
His words take root in my heart and won’t let them go, but how can he be sure?
“Tenny,” South says, taking hold of me by the shoulders, forcing me to listen. He is firm and solid, and his words are strong. “Don’t let fear take over.”
“You can’t force your soul to stay, South,” I say, salty tears hitting my lips. “It’s not how it works. You’re going to leave me. And then… how will I bear it? Losing you all?”
South’s blue eyes won’t have any of it. “You don’t know how it works, Ten. Maybe it is changeable.”
“Maybe what is changeable?” Eric’s voice startles us.
South reaches down for his tee-shirt and slips it over my head discreetly before Eric can see my bare body. Turning to him, I answer. “They are fading, and we have to make it stop.”
Eric’s nods. “Agreed. We’ve to get out of here.”
“Don’t you think if there was some portal we’d have already tried it?” I ask.
“There is no portal, I’m sure of it,” Hawthorne says.
“How can you be absolutely sure?” Eric asks. “If there’s a will, there’s a way, right?”
But Hawthorne just shakes his head, and it’s clear something weighs heavy on his shoulders.
He clears his throat, running a hand through his hair, not meeting my eyes. “I hate this, Ten. But I have to tell you, in case I fade before I get a chance. It’s best you hear this from me.”
“What is it?” I ask, worried, stepping close to my oldest friend. “You can tell me.”
“You know how we met when you first arrived?”
I nod.
“Well, I hadn’t just arrived.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, my heart trembling.
“I’d been here. For quite a while already.”
“What do you mean?” I shake my head.
His gaze is now fixed on mine. Like he needs to look in his eyes as he says it. “As a mercenary.”
“A mercenary for who?” South asks, rage fueling his words. His past has made him hate liars even more than most.
“I work for Hades,” Hawthorne says. “Or at least I did.”
“Why?” I ask, wondering how my oldest friend could have betrayed me.
He exhales, a weight seeming to lift from his shoulders as he does. “I made a deal with the devil in order to save my soul. And then I crossed him.”
