Page 121 of Ink Deep Devotion

I rush forward, wanting to run to him, but Damian grabs me.“He’s not himself.”

I catch Damian’s eyes and shake my head.“This is as close to the real Dash as you will ever see. He’s cracked, resentful, lamenting, and rejoicing. He’s a torrent of emotions which all have broken the surface.” Damian’s hold on me slips.“He’s a storm no longer on the horizon. I’m not scared of the wind that will batter me.”

He leans closer so I can see all the shades of his eyes.“Then be leery of the waters that don’t reveal their depths until they swallow you.” His gaze lingers on me until he nudges his head, telling me to tread forward with caution as he walks behind me.

As I approach Dash, I see Titan, Dante, Cillian, and another man wrapped in shadows. He stands further back under amassive tree that makes his brown hair look darker, like a layer of earth so deep that none dare tread. His blue eyes regard me with curiosity as I approach him.

“That’s Leo.” Damian states as Anders breaks off from us to join Leo.

Leo’s eyes watch me, track me like an eagle looking down his long canary yellow beak, judging if I am worthy to be called his prey.

He dips his chin slightly. Was that meant to be friendly, or did he just mark me?

“He attended Initiation 101 with us,” Damian adds.

Glancing ahead, I take in the silence and somber mood. There’s no priest, no flowers, or other mourners. I see Lucas clench his fist, hands covered in dirt; so are Elijah’s. Two shovels lay off to the side.

Theydug the grave.

All the air from my lungs is pillaged by the monster bellowing in my belly. I step away from Damian’s shadow and towards Dash, but neither of his uncles move to make room for me. I feel adrift in perilous waters that are churning with sharks.

Where do I belong in this world? Married to a man who is too scared to show others how much he loves me, unable to escape because I crave him. Tucked off to the side when all I want is to grab his hand and stand beside him.

I stay back and linger, feeling like a ghost, knowing a part of me is dying because this is how it will always be. Watching Dash publicly from the sidelines.

Dash steps forward, grasping a small porcelain jewelry box in his hands as he holds it over the grave. His eyes pivot to the headstone next to his father’s. Kate King, his mother. My kneesshake. He never mentions her.“Now you can be together again.” He whispers, the wind carrying his words like a treasured gift so I can hear.

He opens the box and pours its contents out into his father’s grave. Only dirt falls out.

Why did he have dirt inside of the box?

Then his eyes look my way. The look in his glare feels like a sucker punch. My shoulders curl in, stomach clenches to protect my heart. He walks right towards me. I don’t know what I expect him to say. Perhaps he’ll confess his love and want to live our final days in each other’s arms.

Instead, he thrust the fragile box into my chest directly over my beating heart. I grasp it, never breaking his stare.“Dash,”

He keeps walking past me. His uncles grab their shovels and begin to throw dirt over the grave. It’s so raw, horrible, uncaring, and cold like nature. Sometimes, you are granted only one breath when you enter this world, and other times, you feel too many anguished ones.

Chapter 41

Dash

I shouldn’t be here, standing over my father’s grave, looking down at the wooden box that holds his flesh and bones.

I look at Mom’s grave, at the headstone that has moss clinging to the letters etched in the marble. Years ago, I stood here as a boy who had lost all hope.I clutched the dirt from the hole that would cradle my mother in the palm of my hand. My father watched as I held the dirt, unable to let it go. I took the dirt and placed it in my pocket. When I got home, I grabbed my mother’s small jewelry box that she kept on her nightstand and put the dirt inside. Then, I shoved the box into my closet.

Today, I hold that box out over my father’s grave. I can finally release the dirt. Mom won’t be alone anymore.

I flip open the lid and shake the dirt free.“Now you can be together again,” I whisper as I watch the dirt fall like sad dirty snow that stains the top of his coffin.

I hate that I’m here and feeling. I shouldn’t feel! My father’s death should not have awakened this beast inside of me.

But it did.

I feel Mila’s eyes begging me to turn and see her, to run and cry in her arms regardless of the men watching—ruthless men who have long forgotten how to create tears.

God, she looks beautiful, even when she cries like she is right now.My little fox, what do I do with you? I can’t let you run free, but I can’t love you either. You’re trapped, running in a void of my darkness.

I shove my mother’s box towards her. The only way we can be together is when they mix the dirt of our graves.

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