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I didn’t know how long we had been traveling because my mind was adrift, stuck in a world that ebbed with scattered thoughts and flowed with blame. In truth, all of this was my fault. I should have never leapt up from that bush. Should have waited for a better time, found some other way to get him out. Because of my impulsive actions, Kaleb was . . .
I couldn’t say the word.
I was faintly aware that we made it back to the mansion, faintly aware of Von’s hands slipping around my waist, of him pulling me down from his stallion, into his arms, my feet never hitting the ground. Lyra held the door open, her eyes filled with sadness . . . for me. I wanted to reach out, to tell her not to be sad for me, that I didn’t deserve it. But words were hard for me to string together.
Because of me, not only was Kaleb gone, but Soren was too.
After the soldiers and the conscripted men scattered like a deck of cards thrown into the wind, Harper and Ryker had searched for Soren, but they were unsuccessful. I was ashamed to say I couldn’t bring myself to look. I couldn’t bring myself to do much of anything, let alone stand.
I feared that they might return with Soren’s body, my mind playing out the final moments I saw him—the arrow chewing into his flesh, the hit to the back of his head. I felt a fraction of relief when they returned empty-handed, but it was quickly snuffed out when I imagined what awaited him wherever they were taking him. He had not done anything to show that he was Cursed, but because he was with me, because of what they would have seen, they would claim him guilty by association.
I reached out in my mind, calling for him, hoping to find any remnant of a shadow mouse, but like the twins, my search also turned up empty-handed. I made a note to myself to try again later. I could do that much for him. I owed him that. After what he had given for me. For Kaleb.
Von set me down, the soft bed sighing underneath me. I blinked, looked around, surveying familiar surroundings—we were in my room. I didn’t recall the process of us getting from the front door to here.
Von looked at me, a hawk peering down from its lookout branch. He exhaled a long, steady breath as he sat on the bed beside me. “What do you need?”
What did I need? I didn’t know. How could I need anything when Kaleb’s body was out there, slung over a horse, waiting to be buried?
“What do I do with him?” I asked, looking up at Von, the rich green color of his irises now gone, an inky black settled in its place. His eyes roamed over my face, as if he were searching for physical wounds, something tangible that he could heal.
“What do you want to do with him?” He continued to study me carefully, as if I were porcelain, riddled with hairline cracks.
I thought about his question, an answer forming on my lips in unison with the thought. “I want to give him a proper burial.” The words scarred my throat on the way out, causing a lump to build there. Weeks ago, when all of this started, I had vowed to bring Kaleb home. I swallowed the lump down, feeling my cells start to thrum, my purpose renewed.
“I need to take him home,” I whispered to myself, needing to hear it out loud.
Later that day, when the too-bright, too-cheerful sun was positioned well into the clear blue sky, I stood outside with Harper, Ryker, and Lyra, exchanging goodbyes and hugs.
The three of them had decided to stay back, to see if they could find out anything about where Soren was. Déjà vu planted itself in my gut, anchoring it down with dread. I hoped, prayed to the gods, that they would be successful in their search, that it would not end how mine did with Kaleb. I warred with myself and my decision to leave. Part of me wanted to stay—to help them find Soren—but the other part that needed to take Kaleb home was stronger. Still, I would do what I could to try to help find him. It was becoming habitual to check internally for him, calling out for him. I even imagined a piece of cheese, like that was enough to coax his shadow mouse out. I had checked so many times over the past few hours, it was beginning to feel like an itch, one that constantly needed to be scratched.
Harper draped her arm over Lyra’s shoulders. “We have things covered here, so don’t worry, okay?”
I gave her a reassuring nod, noting the bags under her eyescourtesyof lack of sleep and too much stress. We all shared that same look. Well, everyone except for Von. I didn’t know how he managed it—to always look like he had a full eight hours of rest every night when he so rarely slept . . . if he slept at all. I doubted it. The last time I remembered him sleeping was that night in Norwood, the image of dirty streets and poor, decrepit houses conjured in my mind. Now, Norwood felt like a lifetime ago. Perhaps it was.
The air crackled, hissed, and seethed, parting for the dark male as he appeared before us. Yet one more thing I was not used to—him appearing out of thin air.
“Do you ever get used to that?” I asked Ryker, who stood beside me.
Ryker glanced at me, a thick brown brow shooting up. “Von shadow walking?”
I had never heard that term before, but it made sense. Sort of.
I nodded.
Ryker smirked, large hands bracketing his hips, broad shoulders performing a slight shrug. “Not really.”
Von slipped a hand into his pocket, his other hand hanging by his side, black and silver rings glinting in the sunlight. He tilted his chin up slightly, peering down at me in that big cat way of his. “Ready?”
“Yes,” I said, without an ounce of hesitation. I moved to Von’s side, his hand lazily drifting to the small of my back, guiding me closer to him. Instinctually, my hands moved, lying flat on his chest, the soft cotton fabric of his black tunic doing little to hide the hard muscles beneath.
I turned my head, took a good, hard look at the three people waving goodbye, the weary eyes mismatched with smiling faces. I realized just then how much they had all done for me—for Kaleb, for Ezra, for my little family. They had given up weeks to bring Kaleb home, someone they didn’t even know. And if my frozen heart was capable of warming, I think it would have in that moment.
“Thank you,” I mouthed to them before the mansion shifted out of view, my world suddenly twinkling with brilliant stars, sparkling and shimmering, as Von shadow walkedus to the cottage.
“What is this place?” I asked, tempted to reach out to one of the stars, to touch it. They seemed so close and yet so far away, all at the same time. They were not static, either—no, they were constantly moving, swirling and dipping and dancing like they were alive. I looked down and my jaw fell slack . . . We were walking—walking—on clouds.
Von tipped his face down, those long black lashes flickering as his eyes settled on me. “It is common ground.” A smile hinted at the corners of his lips, like being here fished out some precious old memory.
