Page 72 of Cast in Shadow
Granted, that was early in our relationship. He might have been trying to scare me off with the information, but I was already hopelessly in love with him at that point, and my reckless heart won out. Until I saw him in action months later and realized how truly dangerous he and his Brethren were.
Even then, though, I’d convinced myself that he would never let anything happen to me because he cared about me. It might not have been love for him, but I was his.
Then he pulled away. He stopped reaching out through that damned one-way connection, and when he did come around, it felt like his mind was somewhere else. So, when he slipped out in the dead of night, I followed.
My fear of him was already there, seated deep within me and simmering just below the surface. I’d pushed it down because I didn’t want to believe he would hurt me. But what I saw andheard was all it took to unravel the fragile web of lies I’d been telling myself about us, and my instincts screamed at me to run.
I’d raced back to my house in a blind panic, with no plan for where I would go or how I would get there. I just knew I needed to disappear.
Torching my life was surprisingly easy back then. All it took was a broken kerosene lamp. The fire took care of the rest. Except for the fear, the unadulterated anger, and the utter heartbreak that consumed me in the months and years that followed.
I’d never met anyone who made me feel as alive as I felt when I was with Emerson. Or who terrified me like he did.
Years passed before I truly understood what that night really did to me. It forced me to finally acknowledge that I would never be more than a blip in his endless life.
How much could I possibly matter to him considering the eons that came before me and the eternity that would stretch out beyond my final breath? Even if he did love me—in whatever way he could—it would be like a human falling in love with a mayfly.
What was one day out of thirty thousand?
What was one tiny human life when you were fated to outlive the entire human race?
I stared at the door and tried for the thousandth time to imagine what it must feel like for him. I had a better idea now, but even my extra years were a drop in the ocean in comparison. He’d spent his entire existence knowing he would lose anyone he got close to, save for the other primordial demons that made up the Brethren.
Making friends would always mean losing them.
Falling in love would only ever end in heartbreak.
The ache would fade eventually, I imagined. So would the memories. That was the way time worked; it ate away ateverything, breaking down even the brightest star into little more than celestial dust. But he would never have a happy ending.
It was a tragic realization, and it took me more than a lifetime to understand it was also a universal truth. No one ever got a happy ending. Not really. The people you cherished would leave you, or die on you, or betray you in some way that would break your heart. And even if you were lucky enough to leave this world before your loved ones, you would be the one doing the breaking.
Happy endings didn’t exist.
So why try?
That was the question that had been eating at me for decades, and it had only become more pronounced since the night Emerson walked back into my life. Because now I knew the answer.
I pressed my hand to the stained wood, letting the warmth coming from it seep into my palm as I opened my mind to him.“Why me, Emerson? Out of everyone in this insane world, why did you choose me?”
Even now, I believed what he felt for me was real. Powerful, possessive, raw. But love? Could a demon even feel that?
The silence that followed felt like a vice slowly closing around my chest, crushing my battered heart between steel jaws made of doubt and worry.
I started to pull my hand away from the door when his voice filled my mind, sending a shiver through me.“Why does a tree take root in the shadows?”
And just like that, the doubt and worry melted into foolishness. It might not have been the easiest question to answer, but the riddle was all the proof I needed that coming here was a mistake.
Letting my hand fall, I straightened.“Forget I asked. Have a good night, Emerson.”
The door swung open, and he was there, all tall, dark, and brooding, wearing only a pair of worn jeans that hung low on his hips. With the dim light spilling out around him, there was no missing the planes of muscle spanning his broad chest and shoulders. Or the torment in his expression, like he was caught between anger and desire.
He leaned his forearm against the top of the door frame. “A tree doesn’t choose the shadows. It grows in darkness because it can do nothing else.”
A bitter scoff burned up my throat. “You always had a choice.”
“Not with you.” He reached out, brushing aside a few strands of hair that were plastered to my neck. “I didn’t want to fall for you back then, and I damn sure didn’t want to spend over a century in misery because the memory of you was seared into my being. There were days when the pain of losing you was so crushing I could barely breathe.” He cradled the side of my face. “Believe me, if I could have found a way to forget you—to let you go—I would have.”
A response singed the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t trust my voice. “You never said it.”
