Page 137 of A Bond with the Dark

When I reach for her, she flinches, and it burrows so far deep within me that I doubt it’ll ever leave.

The unquenchable desire to take her in my arms and comfort her wars with the demon taking over my mind. He wants her death on his lips.

Her blood tastes like his sweetest dreams.

My reality is splintered.

One side of that reality are the parts of me I know the depth of; I can measure it, even though it’s as vast as the ocean. My family, the people I protect, my wishes, hopes, and desires, Sayah—they are my ocean, the thing I will protect at all costs, no matter the price.

The other side of that reality is this new darkness I’m unfamiliar with. It’s warped and wrong, and the edges of it are fractured, the middle a vast ravine of pitch and morbid black—a darkness beyond the spectrum of any that exists in this reality or any other. The cold of it is a cold that arrests your breath; it freezes your soul and disintegrates your bones.

When the demon takes over, it’s to that ravine I go. Time doesn’t exist there, and I have no idea what happens around me while I wallow in that murky place. When I come to and see the faces of the people I love looking at me as though I’m the monster, it adds to the depth and cold of that ravine.

“Sayah,” I say, keeping my voice calm and steady. “Come with me?”

Her perfectly sculpted brows relieve their tension, the lines that bracket the top of her nose relaxing. “Sure,” she says.

Interlacing my fingers with hers, I pull her through the house, up the spiral staircase to the second floor. We keep going up to the top floor, winding around the house’s long hallways and dark corners. This part isn’t used much by anyone.

Dust and cobwebs layer the corners and edges of every window covered with dust and dirt. The smell is ancient; the house was originally built in the late 1800s by a prosperous gin distiller. Since my family has owned it, they’ve remodeled the lower levels, but the upper ones are relatively untouched. My mom wanted the house strictly for the greenhouse. Dad wanted it for the lower levels built to be a distillery but now are used for more nefarious purposes.

Heavy wooden doors are all closed down this dark hallway, but if one were to open them, they’d see antique furniture covered in sheets and ominous remnants of the ghosts who once lived here.

At the end of the hallway are the ladder steps that lead up to my favorite part of the house—the widow’s walk.

Sayah’s quiet as she follows me. I’m sure her mind is a million miles away, or maybe in a million places at once.

Up the steeply slanted steps to the door that leads to the roof, I unbolt the hatch and pop it open.

I climb out and bend to help her up as well.

“Wow,” she breathes as the wind gusts blow her brown hair around. “This is amazing.”

I take her by the hand to the edge of the walk lined with wrought iron fencing twisted into elegant designs. Like an ocean, the lake reaches out as far as the eye can see.

“My favorite part of the house,” I say, taking in the calm of the lake, the cool of the wind, the expanse of blue sky.

I haven’t been able to take in this view since I broke my bond with the dark.

Although the view is breathtaking, I can’t keep my eyes off her.

Watching her take this all in, I see some of the tension melt off her slightly, her soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

I wish I could pluck her worry away, take her in my arms, and tell her everything will be all right, but that’s like reaching out to someone in the middle of a hurricane out at sea, and you are on land.

I want to take all the things that threaten her, anything that means her any harm, and destroy it, rip it limb from limb, and toss it into my dark ravine.

But now, because of my mark, the thing most dangerous to her is me.

“I hate this,” I fret, watching her worry at a string on her cuff. Taking her hand and pulling her to face me, I say, “Sayah, I can’t tell you how much this kills me. I would unhinge the stars and dismantle the moon if it meant it kept you safe, and I am the one you need protection from.”

Her wildly frightened eyes behold mine, her thumb stroking over the top of my palm. “I know, Dom. I hate this, too. But we’re almost there. We have to keep the faith that your mom will break the spell.”

“I know. I wanted you to know that I love you in case she can’t. You are my ocean. I’ve never felt more at peace than on the edge of an ocean, feeling it tug and retreat with pieces of me. It’s the only place where I feel the extra particles I’ve gained from others are quiet and aren’t haunting me. And that is how I feel when I’m near you. You are my peace. I will spend the rest of my damned existence trying to bring you that same peace if I make it out of this alive. But if I don’t, I wanted to tell you.”

Tears well up in her eyes as she slides her body into mine, wrapping her arms around me and laying her head on my chest. “I love you, Dom. More than the stars in the sky.”

I kiss her on the top of her head, smelling the sweet aroma of her hair. Leaning my cheek on it, I stare out at the stillness of the lake.

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