Page 128 of Gift from the Source
I turn my head to him and the guilty look now makes more sense. “How long were you supposed to stay?”
“A few months max in each realm. I stayed here a year.”
“The portal to his realm closed three months after they arrived. Leaving his only way out being the nonmagical realm. It was already closed when he went looking for it.”
“It was the first time leaving my realm and I most certainly got caught up in the newness, the culture, the people. If you ask Tanith, she’ll tell you my parents were too lenient with the time they allowed me to be gone. Which was a year and a half. Half more than my father took. So really not a crazy extension in my opinion. But…I stayed here far longer than I should’ve. When I finally listened to Tanith’s reasoning that it was time to move on, I agreed and said that I’d just spend a month in each of the other realms. It was too late.”
“So what else have you pieced together, little wanderer?”
“Keeper had a choice to make,” she says quietly, looking at him. “Follow the rules set forth by his parents, or don’t and face the consequences set forth by Elementra. His arrival, the timing of the portals closing, none of that was coincidental. Just the aftermath that happened was based on his choices.”
My jaw drops as my gaze bounces between the two of them. She looks at him like she’s hurt on his behalf. His face is contorted into multiple different emotions that I don’t think he’s going to work through while she’s in here.
I lay my lips to her temple softly.“Thank you for explaining.”
“Are you upset with me? I really didn’t mean to keep this from you. We’ve just been…”
“Really fucking busy with a bunch of other shit and thinking about when portals closed is the last thing we have time to concern ourselves with.”
“It’s still important. I was working through the pieces, and I should’ve brought it up before now.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. This was perfect timing.”
With another kiss, this one plastered to her lips, she murmurs a bye to Keeper and leaves us be. His eyes trail over the books still waiting for us on the shelves and I swear I can feel the torn emotions rolling off him.
I honestly have no clue how I’d feel if I were him, but I also want him to know it’s okay to feel a lot of things. In this situation, it’s not going to hurt me or make me think he doesn’t want to have shit to do with me.
I know he does. He’s proven it.
“You don’t have to feel guilty for being upset about all that’s happened. I understand some of your guilt is directed at disobeying your parents, but it’s okay to be mad about all that happened to you. You can be both happy to be here with me and pissed you got locked in a forest unjustly for five hundred years then, fell into the clutches of that fucker.
“I can’t really apologize for Elementra’s meddling with your life. I’ll just say that typically she does things with a greater reason in mind, notharsh consequences. Those usually come from the assholes we’re trying to defeat. She tries to bless us all.”
The relief that crosses his face makes the tightness in my chest lessen. “You are a blessing, son. You’re worth every minute I spent in that forest.”
I don’t have anything to say to that. It’s good to hear that he feels that way, but I hate that he even had to experience what he did just for me to come about.
Luckily, he doesn’t push or expect a response from me. He turns back to the bookshelf and pulls out another book. As he drags it off the shelf, the letter we were originally supposed to be searching for falls out.
We both stare at it.
A laugh that breaks the tension falls from his lips as he looks down at the cover. “Well, that’s quite fitting.”
He turns it to me and I can’t help but laugh and shake my head.
Cute, Uncle Oreo.
The Keeper Line.
I chuckle to myself as I think about the first time I walked into my new room. I did in fact hold this book that day. Granted, I wasn’t the one to pull it off the shelf, Willow was.
I guess my little letter’s appearance was just waiting on us.
I’m the one to finally break the stare-off with the paper on the ground. I hold it gently in my hand as I return the book I was holding to the shelf, then I turn to look at him.
The nerves are obvious.
I give him another minute as I run my hand across the seam in the folded paper. It’s different than our parchment here. It’s thinner, but the texture feels the same. There’s a bright cobalt drop of wax holding the folds closed. It reminds me of his blood.
