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To be with our beloved little song, our Elodie.
They killed themselves for what they did...
Because ofhim.Because of Violet.
I sit here for a long time. I’m not sure how much time has passed, but when I hear footsteps I don’t bother turning to see who it is. I just continue to stare endlessly at our graves like the lost soul I’ve always been.
“I’m sorry,” Wren whispers as he kneels down next to me.
I ignore him, not sure how he knew I was here. I continue staring at their graves, wondering who buried them next to me. Aunt Maggie is dead. I’m dead.Everyoneis fucking dead. So who?
The Cypress lets out a soft sigh, one filled with sorrow. His hand slides over mine and he squeezes it tightly. His hands are warmer than I ever remember them being.
“The Rhythm is cruel… but I have no doubt in my mind you will meet them again. Your story didn’t end here, Elodie—it’s just beginning.”
He leans forward and wipes the ash from the tops of each gravestone. Behind his fingers, little white plants grow from the stones. They can’t be more than a few inches tall and they look like ghost flowers, white and iridescent against the death that surrounds them. Little poppies and mushrooms, dandelions waiting for impossible wishes to be made.
My eyes light up and a small warmth fills me. My broken organ finds a large piece of itself at the sight. Maybe this is the closure I needed.
Wren glances back at me and a somber smile graces his beautiful face, his amber eyes flickering with empathy.
My oldest friend and forever heartthrob.
His thumb brushes over my cheek, swiping away tears that I wasn’t aware were falling.
“Your story is a painful one… but I willalwaysstand with you. We will all make it through this… even Murph. Our stories will always chase one another, around and around, until we all meet again and again, forever, in an endless cycle.”
He lifts my chin to look at him and I’m sobbing now, like a child. He’s always saved me from my darkest depths and I love him for it. His expression is soft and a tear escapes his eyes too.
“You are life itself, Elodie.Dawn of the realms.” He stands, pulling my arms so I stand with him. I stare into his eyes like I’m desperate for each word he whispers to me, because I am. “Now take back your heart. Take back all of it… and let’s fix this shit.”
19
Elodie
I’m staring into Wren’s amber eyes as the cold, dead forest seems to swirl around us. His words penetrate deep into my heart until the key has finally turned on that cage in my chest. My broken organ steps out, scared because the world has shattered it so many times, but it’s caught in Wren’s embrace.
He cups my cheeks with his hands, our eyes locked. We’re connected so deeply and I finally see it now.
He is the forest himself—guardian of the ponderosas. Life of the woodlands. And he was always here with me, living in my love for the woods.
He’smy forest… my Cypress among the pines.
Wren smiles easily at me, that loose and gentle look he had when we first met, and I remember the kiss I never got. The one I wanted so badly from him. He lets a thrum of his power fill the ashes around us and white fireflies rise from darkness, dancing around us and orbing into the air to make this morbid place a little lighter.
He leans into me and his perfect lips press against mine. I’m flooded with his pine scent and I feel so safe in his arms.
Home.
His thumb strokes my cheek lovingly as he pulls away. I whimper as he takes a step back, wishing that he would indulge me this once.
“We can’t stay long. You need to get back to Nesbrim before anyone notices you’re gone,” he whispers as he presses a kiss to my forehead.
A small pain spreads across my chest through the bond and I already know we’re fucked.
“Too late.” I wince, clenching my chest at the burn. “Arulius just found out,” I bite out. Wren pushes his dark hair back with a sigh, worry flashing in his gaze.
He takes my hand and leads me back toward his Bresian gateway, the same one he originally took me through. I pull my hand from his and trot ahead in the other direction. “This way. Rune’s waiting for me at the other gate.” Wren trails me without hesitation.
