Page 32 of Gift from the Stone

She has to come back to us.

To them. Not you.

To us, to us, to us.

Don’t let them see you falling apart.

Taking a second to pull myself together, I call my shadows and wrap myself in darkness. The anxiety fades as the darkness consumes me completely. In my shadows, I’m safe. My demons can’t touch me. They can’t see me. In my shadows, they won’t touch her. I’ll turn this realm to nothing but a void before I let that happen.

Fading into the room, I see my brothers all doing the same miserable routines they’ve developed over the last forty-eight hours. I’ve been carrying this demeanor of calm, cool, collected for them, giving them the illusion I’m holding it together, unaffected, but I’m nowhere near holding it together. In a short amount of time and a little push from the creator, she’s gone from the villain I wanted to blame all my problems on, to my obsession, my need, my breath, my everything. My Primary.

They don’t know that. She doesn’t know that. No one will know that but me until I’m ready.

“Corentin, why don’t you open the windows and let some air in? You all should go to your rooms for a few, let her room breathe, and you all get yourselves together. She doesn’t need to wake up finding her Nexus falling the fuck apart and feel like she needs to pick up the pieces.”

“Fuck you, Caspian,” Draken yells, and the fireball he throws at me fizzles out. I didn’t even have to call my water up.

Angry dragon.

“You can take your anger out on me all you want, Draken. If that’s what you need, fuck it, I can take it. But you know I’m telling the truth. She’ll wake up, see the worry, concern, and forty-eight hours of unkept men, and she’ll immediately go into little Primary mode and try to make it all better. Don’t do that to her. Don’t force her to wake up and be strong,” I say, trying to call on my inner Tillman. Patience, calm, understanding, but it’s incredibly hard. They all need to look in the damn mirror.

Go break down in the shower like I did and pull it together. Fuck.

“He’s right. Come on, let’s straighten her room, get some air flowing, and clean ourselves up.” Mr. Understanding himself speaks up, standing and collecting the trash lying around him from the meals the kitchen’s brought up.

In minutes, we have her room back in its original state. All it’s missing now is her light.

Draken lights a few of her candles, fluffs her pillows, and gives her a kiss before storming out of the room. He slams his room door so loud, I can hear it from here. He’ll need to shift soon, or he’s going to explode.

Corentin pulls a gentle breeze into the room, circulating it a few times before sending the stale smell out the window, leaving the fresh, clean, woodsy scent of the forest outside drifting through her room. He doesn’t kiss her like Draken did, but he runs his thumb across her bottom lip, then turns to leave.

Tillman creates some vines and ties her curtains back, allowing the natural midmorning light to cast a soft and gentle glow throughout the darkened space. The light has a rejuvenating effect, filling the space with a sense of calm, breathing life back into the room, making it feel like her space again. He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, whispering sweet nothings, promising to be back in just a minute before kissing her cheek.

On his way out, he gives me a nod that says thanks, unity, and determination all in one. He agrees that they all needed a swift kick to the ass.

Making my way over to the side of her bed, I sit down and wrap my shadows around her.

Staring at her comatose form for forty-eight hours, I’ve sworn up anything of value, promising it all to Elementra if she just wakes her up, let us have her back, and I’ll give her whatever she wants. But there have been no answers.

“Wake up, Primary. Come back to us, to them at least. I know I’ve been the one to keep the distance between us. I’ve had to. I’ll destroy the beautiful, innocent light that surrounds you. The dark and damaged soul I carry around will pull all the light from within you so I can keep it for myself. I don’t deserve you. I’m not worthy of you. I’ll ruin you. But I’m a selfish man and I won’t let you go. Even if it can only be from the shadows, I’ll follow you from there. I’m not like my brothers. I’m not funny, carefree, or playful like Draken. I’m not patient, balanced, or gentle like Tillman. I’m not mindful, selfless, or tender like Corentin.

“I’m what nightmares are made of. I enjoy punishing, maiming, and killing rebellious scum. I promise I’ll never hurt you, but don’t misinterpret that. I’m a monster through and through. I just won’t be a monster to you. I’ll try to give you whatever I can of myself, whatever you’ll accept. It’ll take me time, but I’ll learn. I’ll try to keep my darkness from tainting you as best as I can, sweet Willow.”

Six

Willow

Where in the realm am I at?

Opening my eyes, all I see is a vast expanse of a clear, cloudless blue sky. The color is a deep, serene azure, stretching infinitely in every direction. There isn’t an interruption in the sky, no birds, no leaves blowing in the wind, not even a sun, just a brilliant blue canvas, creating a sense of boundless openness.

Wiggling my fingers, the ground beneath me feels soft, covered in a lush carpet of grass. Pushing myself up to sit, I gasp as my eyes take in the scenery before me. Miles and miles of a sea of green stretch far beyond my sight, merging with the blue sky off in the distance. Looking behind me, I see the silhouette of a tree, the only thing standing out in this expansion of green and blue.

I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to go there.

Time seems to have no meaning here. I can’t tell if seconds, minutes, hours, or days have passed as I make my way to that tree. Nothing ever changes. The blue stays blue, the green stays green, and the wind is just the perfect amount of a breeze. The tree never grows closer, nor farther, but I continue walking and walking and walking. Endless walking in that direction until suddenly, it’s in front of me.

My tree.

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