Page 50 of Country and Clove
Lark offered his hand to Aaron. “Let’s focus on your powers today.”
Aaron accepted his hand begrudgingly. Lark pulled him to his feet and he took in his surroundings for the first time. They were standing in the middle of a city. Or what must have once been a city. Buildings were toppled and crumbled ruins lay all around them.
Whatever happened here, it wasn’t recent. The forest had taken back the land. Trees sprouted from buildings. Grass and greenery had taken root on every concrete or rubble surface. Everything was coated in an array of greens. The only exception were the vines of bright red flowers that snaked their way up and over pretty much everything in sight.
“Where the hell are we?” It looked like some kind of beautiful post-apocalyptic world.
“The locals call this placeThe Devil’s Garden. It’s known for earthquakes. They decimated the city every few years and eventually the people moved away. Couple that with a string of unexplained disappearances and unusual storms. Now no one comes near this place.” Lark grinned at the end of the story. What a fucking psychopath.
“That’s a great history lesson. Now take me back.” Aaron’s patience was wearing thin. He hadn’t left Clove’s side since they bonded and her absence was already making him feel hollow inside.
“No. You don’t get to go back until you learn to control your powers.”
“Excuse me?” Aaron snarled.
“No going back. No Clove. Nothing. Not until I determine it’s safe. But you’re highly motivated. So I would bet we’ll be back in time for dinner.” Was he serious?
“Take me back.” The sky darkened as storm clouds rolled in. The wind picked up, howling through the open spaces and sending shreds of red flowers scattering into the air.
“There we go.” Lark smiled. “That’s a good start.”
Aaron’s rage grew, and the sky turned black. Thunder boomed, and the sound was deafening. Lark barely reacted.
“Your powers are new and just like everyone else, they’re tied to your emotions. For now. What we’re going to work on is breaking the connection between emotional outbursts and power surges. Once you unlink the two, things will get a whole lot easier.”
“Fuck you. Take me back.” A thin funnel was descending from the sky.
“Let’s talk about your emotions,” Lark continued. The funnel hit the ground and began to grow. “You’ve been emotionally unstable for months. So let’s figure this out. What haunts you, Aaron?”
“You want to have a therapy session out here?” It was so ridiculous, Aaron actually laughed.
“That’s right. What haunts you?” Lark was speaking more loudly now, his volume increasing to compete with the tornado that was still brewing. Aaron glanced at it, his heart racing. It had grown larger now, nearly the width of a car.
“We’re just going to stand here while that thing moves closer?!” Aaron was yelling. The wind whipped viciously around them, threatening to rip the clothes from their bodies.
Lark glanced at the tornado once, his eyes settling to that dreaded crimson. Thunder shook the air around them. “This is all up to you, Aaron. So tell me. What haunts you?” His voice was barely audible over the weather. Fear was funneling its familiar flavor down Aaron’s throat. He didn’t want to die here. And Celestial or not, he wasn’t going to survive a goddamn tornado. Trees groaned as their roots were torn from the earth.
“Fine! The day of the attack!” Aaron cried out.
“Why?” Lark moved closer to him, grasping his shoulder. Aaron’s eyes snapped back to the tornado. “Why?” Lark called out again, demanding Aaron’s attention. The screams, the crying, the desperate pleading looks of his recruits filled his vision, blinding him with grief.
“Because it was my fault!” Aaron dropped to his knees and covered his face with his hands. The pain of the past shot through his system, crippling him. Lark dug his fingers into Aaron’s arm and they vanished once again.
It was quiet wherever they reappeared. His knees sank into soft, wet sand. Aaron dropped his hands and looked around. They were on a beach in a tiny cove surrounded by cliffs. The water was a soft blue-grey as it lapped against the shore.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Lark was still kneeling in front of him. His eyes had shifted, settling to a mossy green and starry silver.
“I was in charge. I—”
“It wasn’t your fault. If I have to compulse you to believe it, I will. Think back to that day. You took your recruits out into the forest of your home. A place you’d ventured through thousands of times before. You were attacked by two monsters from the shadow world that you and your team were completely ill-equipped to handle. You did everything you could to fight them off. But in the end, you needed things and people you just didn’t have in order to stop them. You were a lone group of lycans without a single Chosen, Celestial, Veil Walker, Reaper, or teleporter. You had no chance. It wasn’t your fault. It was fate.”
“But I survived,” Aaron breathed out as knives drove through his heart.
“You were meant to. You were the strongest and most well-trained member in the group. You fought harder than anyone, and you lived.” Lark took a deep breath, then continued. “There was nothing else you could do then. But right now, today, you can honor them by making the most of your life. Claim your magic, love your mate, learn everything you can about how to fight those monsters and the next time you encounter them, you take them down. That’s how you honor those lives lost. That’s how you make certain their deaths weren’t in vain.”
Aaron sat with Lark’s words. He’d needed someone to blame, to understand why things had gone so horribly wrong that day. But maybe Lark was making sense. He had done everything he could to prepare his recruits before that day. And he’d done everything in his power to try and save them when the creatures attacked.
“I feel so guilty,” he admitted.
