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I take a glance at him and see the way his eyes track each precise movement she makes. A small tilt curving his lips, and a look glinting within his stare that I’ve only seen once before. “She refuses to skip training. She’s worked hard, and Emma will be proud to see it.”
“Did you see that?!” Cora’s voice belts across the forest floor. “I got my blade to his chest before this brute could react!” She shrieks and jumps up and down.
“I offered a small opening to see if you would notice and take the shot,” Kye mumbles in defense. “And you did.”
Cora rolls her eyes and giggles. “Uh-huh. If you say so, big guy. Didn’t know you were such a sore loser.” She pats his shoulder with a cackle as Kye whispers something under his breath about not being a sore loser.
She saunters towards us. Fynn claps next to me and pulls her into a squeezing hug that lifts her feet off the ground. “That was damn good, love.” He sets her down and winks before slinging an arm around her shoulders.
Her cheeks warm to a light shade of pink as she brings her blue eyes to me, the playfulness falling off her lips. “Anything yet?”
I give a shake of my head, darting my eyes away like a coward because I’m not sure I can handle the look I know will cross her face. A look that grieves her best friend as I continue to fail in reaching her.
“He needs to rest,” Fynn cuts in. “We all do, and we can try again tomorrow.” Suddenly, Fynn is standing a foot in front of me and clasps my shoulders with both hands. “Rest.” His voice holds a cadence of worry as his hazel eyes dart back and forth between mine.
A curt nod is all I can offer because the only thing that will come out of my mouth is that resting is the last thing I fucking want to do. So, I stay quiet.
Later that night, I try to do what Fynn asked of me. I lay down on my bed, fully dressed, knowing sleep will evade me. And I was right, because only a vision of Emma’s bare body grips hold of me. Her kissable skin on display and spread out on this very mattress, waiting for me to sink into her. Everything from that one night we shared keeps flashing behind my eyes.
Except now, I don’t have her scent clinging to my pillow with the memory. One day, there was a semblance of rose and honey lingering, and the next night, it was gone. Not even fading away to prepare me. It just ceased to exist.
In one breath I sit up straight, swipe the glass off the table next to the bed, and swallow down the rest of the golden liquid in one gulp. It goes down smoothly, and before I know it, I’m on my feet, pouring another glass of bourbon to the rim and chugging it down.
I place my hand over my chest, tracing my fingertips over the raised skin that marks my heart. The permanent declaration for Emma with a slice of my wyvern blade to show how she has buried her way inside my heart, and how I don’t ever want her to fucking leave. A daily reminder that everything I feel, everything that happened between us, is real. Because I feel like I’m in my own fucked-up nightmare that I can’t escape from.
Every day that goes by feels like my scar has been violently ripped open, causing my crimson pain to flow endlessly until there’s nothing left. I may have her chained to my heart, but I feel like I’m trapped underwater and can’t reach the surface. No matter how hard I try to swim, I keep sinking deeper. The chain continues to unravel, and I’m losing control of my gods damn sanity.
I pour more bourbon to numb the waves of agony that keep assaulting me. With a strong gulp, I drain the contents in my glass, my grip so tight that my knuckles turn white. My desperation to find her consumes me, leaving me feeling powerless. Helpless. I’ve only felt this way once before, and that was when my father died. There was nothing I could do to bring him back, or to find a way to mend my mother’s broken heart.
However, I refuse to surrender. I will never stop searching for her, and I won’t hesitate to eliminate anyone who stands in my way. The spiraling of my thoughts causes my hand to shake from the force of my grip, until the glass shatters, sending fragments flying in every direction. My palm is left bleeding, with streams of crimson dripping down my fingers and onto the floor.
I close my eyes, trying to focus on my breathing to ground myself in the present and what I need to do. But I’m finding it more difficult with each passing moment as thoughts and memories of our star-crossed love swirl in my mind. Taunting me and driving me to the brink of madness.
I feel the sadness eating away at me morph into a dark anger. It’s starting to take hold as I try to fight it and cling to the last shreds of my sanity. If I lose control completely, there’s no telling what kind of destruction I’ll wreak.
I grab hold of the amber-filled decanter by the neck, the golden liquid swishing inside with the swift movement. Tipping the mouth of the glass to my lips, I guzzle the rest of it down with hard swallows. The liquid burns my throat, spreading warmth throughout my body. For a moment, the rage inside me subsides and I feel a sense of calm settle over me. A slight loosening in my chest. But it’s short-lived. My emotions are too raw, and my powers too close to the surface as my veins are flooded with alcohol.
My chest tightens once again, but this time it takes my breath with it. Rapidly heaving up and down in desperate inhales while my heart pounds loudly in my ears as I fall apart. Imagining never seeing her smile again, hearing her laugh, or feeling the warmth of her skin in my hands is too much to bear.
Suddenly, all I see are shades of red.
A roar rips free from my chest, no doubt vibrating through the castle. Wisps of shadows lash out, striking the books off my shelf, shattering artwork off the walls, and throwing chairs across the room until they smash to pieces. A storm of what feels like our ill-fated love surges in violent gusts of despair and anger. My shadows rage around me with unleashed chaos, snuffing out the fire and casting the room in darkness as I throw my arms back and let free a guttural growl.
I blast my fist into the nearby wall over and over and over again. The sound of my knuckles snapping fills the air before the pain registers. I feel my beast unleash—like a primal, uncontrollable force within myself—but my soul is left behind and my heart is adrift without it. Blood spurts from my injured hand. It stains the wall, creating dents where my fist collides as bits of stone crumble to the floor.
I don’t stop even as my mutilated hand swells from the abuse. I keep trying to pound out all the emotions suffocating me. Hoping it will crumble them to nothing but dust and empty pain, and one breath will blow them away forever.
My hand will heal itself, but I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve to be freed from pain, just like Emma’s not free from the control this power has on her. The power that remained in her soul even when she removed the crown and exploded a piece of it off before walking away from me. And it's why our bond is blocked with utter darkness... She is still lost to it. My hand throbs relentlessly as it hangs limply at my side, causing me to drift back to the present. Bowing my head, fatigue takes hold while beads of sweat glisten on my forehead.
I go to take another swig of bourbon when I realize I already drank the rest of it. The decanter is now nothing but a million shards of diamonds scattered on the floor. With a hiss, I scrunch my face as a drum pounds unforgivingly in my head, my vision doubling. I drank too fucking much. That is proven true when I stumble, needing to brace my hands on the wall. I deeply pull air in and out of my lungs. I want to numb the pain, to not feel it shredding me for just a moment, but I can’t. I won’t until I have her back.
And with that thought in mind, I leave the broken pieces of my heart on the floor with the mess I made. The power in me slowly curls back into my body, until a deafening silence fills the room. I step forward towards the open wall that leads out to the sleeping forest. My boots crunch the broken glass to dust, along with the part of me I can’t piece back together.
The cool breeze warms against the heat radiating from my body as I stare with heavy-lidded eyes to the midnight sky. There are a few stars sprinkled, their light reflecting in the calm pools of water scattered between the trees on the forest floor. But my eyes lock on something else…
I dive out and call on my wings to spring forth, cutting through the night air to land on the roof. The ledge of my castle that holds so many memories. But once my feet touch the surface, I stagger, and it takes a few moments longer than normal to regain my balance before tipping my head back to stare at the moon.
It’s not full tonight, but simply a crescent that looks like it’s barely holding on. I remain fixated on it as a voice fills my mind with words spoken once before.
