Page 30 of The Discovered
A tear escaped my eye. “I know it wasn’t my fault, deep down. But I wanted to save you, and you made me leave.”
“Youwillsave us. Just not in the way you thought. You cannot possibly fathom the entirety of your life’s arc and influence from your own limited perspective. We knew we were going to die. We had accepted it long before those men came. The power of the cruelty of killing a child’s parents right before her eyes forged a spell so powerful that it kept you hidden from them. It allowed you to mature and grow. It allowed others’ roles in this story to manifest and develop. If anything had happened differently or on an alternate timeline then the whole plan would’ve fallen apart.”
Plan?I shook my head, my brows furrowed. I struggled against the urge to run to them, to touch their faces, and to give in to the temptation that promised an end to my pain and all the pain that was to come.
This time Momma Celeste spoke, her voice soft and lyrical. “You don’t see it all now, but you must have faith. This story has many chapters, and each piece will need to fall into place at the exact moment that it should and not a moment before. Like a road with many hills, you will not be able to see where it all leads. But know that itwilllead.”
“She needs to go back now,” a woman said, with kind eyes, olive-toned skin, and dark brown hair. She offered me a knowing smile, almost as if she wanted to say more but couldn’t. There was something familiar in her face, but Momma Celeste’s voice cut through before I could place it.
“No matter how dark and cold, how difficult or impossible your journey becomes, know that we will always be with you. The whole world is on your side. You will always have friends where you least expect them.”
The ground beneath me began to shake, like the very fabric of this world was crumbling. Suddenly my mothers and our people were much farther away, and they became more and more distant until they were merely specks of white light among the tall sand dunes. The ocean lapped at my heels as I knelt, and soon it was at my waist. I waited there in the sand until a large wave overtook me, and I was returned to myself.
Chapter9
My eyes fluttered open to Daelon kneeling over me, begging as I had when I thought I’d killed him with my disobedience. His eyes were closed, his hands clasped around one of mine. I was still on the floor, and I realized that no more than a few minutes had passed. Or else I would be dead.
“Please,” he prayed softly.
A soothing energy flowed from his hands to mine, but the pain and stiffness around my no-doubt bruised neck was raw and intense.
“Daelon,” I croaked, my voice scratchy. I winced at the pain of speaking.
“Thank the Goddess.” He didn’t let go of my hand as he gazed down at me, his worry transforming to disgust as he studied my neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said instinctively, but winced once more. My mouth tasted metallic.
“Shhh,” he soothed and lifted me up into his arms and carried me across the room. He laid me down on my bed, so gentle and careful. “It’s not okay.” He slumped to his knees beside the bed buried his head in his hands, shame wracking his features.
“I know it wasn’t you. It’s my fault for provoking whoever that was,” I said.
He looked up, and something flashed in his eyes, but he pressed a finger to his lips in a gesture for me to stop hurting myself by talking. I hoped this witchy super-healing would kick in soon.
My thoughts traveled to the dream that didn’t feel like a dream, and I let that feeling of pure love sent by my mothers and the other people in white wash over me. It was real, wasn’t it? It was becoming harder and harder to tell in the witch realm. Everything felt real on some level.
“This is all my fault, trust me,” Daelon said, his last words laced with hidden meaning. He shook his head. “Let me get you something for the pain.”
It was Daelon I wanted to be free from pain. I had never seen so much in him—in his eyes, in the lines in his forehead, and in his grimace. He had to know that it wasn’t he who hurt me. How could he blame himself?
He quickly returned, holding out his hand where two blue pills lay. He handed me a glass of water with the other. I took them, reminded of a few weeks ago when I’d done the same. It was insane how quickly things had changed and progressed.
I just needed to be held. To be comforted. Having a near-death experience and seeing my mothers made me feel childlike and vulnerable. It was a feeling I rarely let myself indulge, but something about the words they spoke—that I still didn’t entirely understand—filled a hole inside of me. A gaping wound of shame, denial, and faithlessness. This experience was what I needed in order to move forward, to see their deaths as a source of strength and sacrifice rather than a weakness I blamed myself for. I still didn’t entirely know how to have faith in this path they’d laid out for me, which still felt as obscured and muddled as a hazy childhood memory.
I just knew I had to try.
“Could you lie with me?” I asked finally.
Daelon hesitated. He stood over me, his face frozen in worry.
“Oh,” I said. “You don’t have to.” I wanted to cry.
“I don’t want to hurt you further,” he said quickly. “I’ve already failed you once.” He studied my neck again, disgust rising back up to his features.
“Please.”
He raised his gaze to mine and immediately acquiesced, crawling in beside me. I sucked in a breath as I moved onto my side, my back to him. I felt the bed shift as he took my cue and gently wrapped an arm around me, melding himself to me. I marveled at how perfectly our bodies fit together as his breath tickled the back of my neck.
“I thought I’d killed you,” he whispered, his voice as hoarse as mine. His grip tightened around me, and he snaked his hand around mine.
