Page 6 of Gift from the Wing

“Take me,” I scream, surprising even Caspian as his arms flinch around me.

Corentin nods over my head, and a different kind of darkness swallows me whole as we move through the fabric of Elementra and are spat out in what seems to be a place frozen in time.

The second Caspian sets my feet on the floor, I run.

I’ve never seen this foyer with my own eyes, but my heart knows where to go. This is the only area that’s not blocked off and as I cross through the arch, I slam to a stop as my gaze takes in the shimmering ward.

I hear their footsteps, more than my men’s, running toward me, but I couldn’t give a fuck as my body vibrates with pent-up hurt, trauma, sorrow, mourning.

“We can’t go any farther, little wanderer,” Draken says softly from somewhere behind me.

No.

With a guttural screech, I pound on the barrier with everything I got and when it pushes back, I push harder. I give myself over fully to the darkness that’s always lurked below my surface. The void built up by the horrors I’ve lived through. Those that I remember and those that were hidden from me. Yes, to protect me, but hidden from me, nonetheless.

I pour my heart, soul, and body into every punch. Every strike, every scream has the ward trembling beneath my fist.

“How could you leave me? How the fuck could you do this?” I shriek until my throat is raw.

“Child, please. Please, calm down.”

I whip around on my heels at the sound of that voice.

Standing a few feet in front of my men, who look as though they’re preparing to declare war on someone, Gaster’s holding out a shaking hand for me to take.

My Gaster.

MyGuardria.

He’s suffered just as much.

My chest heaves heavily as I clench my fist so tightly, my partially shifted nails slice through my skin. My heart seems to splinter apart even more as I fall into the depths of his baby blue eyes that portray the same grief as mine.

“He left us, Gaster. How could he leave us?”

His gaze fills to the brim with water and his entire body shudders. When the pierce of his pain hits me, I lose the tight hold I had on my elements and the entire structure rumbles, sending my Patera-Nexus, mother-in-law, and Keeper to the ground.

But not my men.

Not Gaster.

“Please, Willow, step away from the ward. Come talk to us,” he says softly, taking a step toward me.

I immediately take a step back. I can’t trust myself or my emotions in this moment and I don’t want him so close to me. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt him, hurt any of them.

My bloody palm lands against the ward, sending a violent tremor through the floors of this wing, inhibiting anyone from getting any closer to me.

Then time seems to slow.

Everything, everyone falls unnaturally sluggish as though they’re walking through tar.

My erratic heartbeat thuds in my ears, blocking out all noise, although I clearly see my men shouting something at me. They’re taking steps toward me, more like attempting to run, but they make no progress. It’s all in slow motion.

A vine wraps around my wrist, and my head tilts down to look at it, then back up at its caster. We’re the only two who can move.

“Step out of the ward, child, please. It’s imploding.”

Imploding.

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