Page 80 of Chasing Eternity

The storied Roman emperor repeatedly cautioned against the corrupting influence of power—a pitfall Marcus Aurelius diligently worked to avoid.

And yet, Arthur Blackstone, who claims to be his greatest admirer, precisely embodies the very pitfalls the Roman emperor warned against.

Then again, it’s a rare person who has a clear view of themselves.

Arthur takes the microphone in hand, his mere presence alone enough to command all our attention. “Greetings!” he calls, his voice resonating through the suddenly silent room.

Instantly, the atmosphere electrifies, the crowd erupting into enthusiastic cheers as if Arthur, standing before us in historical finery, is a rock star poised to deliver an encore performance of his biggest hit song.

It’s in this moment that the depth of their affection for him becomes unmistakably clear. This room is filled with people whose loyalty to him is unwavering, their lives indelibly marked by his intervention. Rescued from the brink of guillotines, the gallows, and witch trials, they owe their very existence to Arthur’s grace.

And in the midst of this new understanding, I can’t help but wonder if Arthur can really turn his back on them all?

Can he really cast aside those he no longer deems necessary?

And what would they think if they were to discover his plans?

Another glance around the room tells me that their faith in him is so resolute, so unwavering, that even if I did try to convince them of what I now know, the majority wouldn’t believe me.

As Arthur continues speaking, Mason quietly appears by my side. “We’re about to head out,” he says, subtly gesturing toward Oliver and Finn, who linger at the edge of the crowd.

“So soon?” A hint of reluctance sounds in my voice.

“Seems like the best time.” He shrugs. “With everyone so distracted, we’ll be able to slip away without notice.”

I give a silent nod, feeling an uncomfortable knot tighten in my throat at the thought of his leaving, even though I know it’s all just as we planned.

“I’m sorry,” I say, the gravity of our situation adding extra weight to my words. “I never meant to drag you into all this.”

“Don’t.” Mason shakes his head. “Don’t regret a single second of it. Believe it or not, this has turned into one of the most amazing experiences of my life. It’s like playing a real-life version ofAnywhere But Here.”

A laugh breaks through my tears as I remember the game we used to play back in high school, dreaming up fantastical adventures to escape the tedium of our surroundings.

“I never imagined we’d actually live out those daydreams,” he says. “It’s because of you that I got to experience that.”

“Yeah, be careful what you wish for, right?” I try to smile, but my eyes, much like his, are brimming with tears, saying more than any words or grin ever could.

“I would hug you,” Mason says, “but we can’t risk drawing any unwanted attention. So, instead of goodbye, which seems way too final, I’ll just say, so long. For now. We’ll catch up in New York or even California, yes?”

“Definitely,” I assure him.

Turning to Braxton, Mason says, “Sorry I clocked you.”

Braxton rubs at the spot on his jaw where Mason’s knuckles pounded his flesh in what now feels like a lifetime ago. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He grins. Then, with a nod of respect, he adds, “Good luck to you, Mason. May your journey be smooth, the seas calm, and the winds at your back.”

“Highly unlikely.” Mason laughs. “But thanks for the sentiment all the same.”

Our farewells to Oliver and Finn are brief, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of regret that I didn’t get to know them as well as I might’ve liked.

But Gray Wolf is like that—competitive, cloaked in secrecy. A place where forming genuine connections is hindered by a constant undercurrent of doubt and suspicion.

Arthur has created this breathtaking environment and filled it with distrust, making us feel like we’re always being listened to, watched, our every move monitored. It’s one of my biggest grievances with him. Here, we had the potential to become a united family, all working together as one. But I guess Arthur feared that sort of unity might one day turn us against him.

My gaze shifts to the stage where Arthur continues to captivate the crowd. Then spotting Keane lingering close by, I turn to Braxton with a heavy heart. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

Braxton pulls me close to his chest, sealing our farewell with a kiss that resonates deep in my soul. As we part, a sea of unspoken words swirls between us. With a trembling hand, I reach up and lovingly trace the slight bend of his nose, smiling through my tears at this dashing, elegant boy who managed to claim my whole heart.

“See you in New York,” I manage to whisper, struggling to hold back a sob.

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