Page 76 of Gift from the Source
I do allow myself to greedily suck up the small vibrations in my chest from Willow’s bond, though. I pull on that sweet little feeling she’s trying to discreetly send me and force it to spread through every inch of my body until all I feel is her.
She’s trying to give me the space I need right now while also telling me she’s here for me. I appreciate it and devour it like the glutton I am for her.
My water flows through my fingers as I cast my shadows out to crawl the walls. Their freedom and exploration of my safe haven calm more of the erratic rambling in my mind and I release a deep breath.
They slither their way through the crevices of my books and I pull my water back through my skin. I want to enjoy the phantom touch of the leathers and parchments that I’ve read at least a dozen times each.
Some for an escape. Some for knowledge.
Regardless of their purpose, they’ve served me well.
“Bring it to me,” I command my gift as it circles my most treasured book.
My Book of Shadows.
The darkest of covers that adorns my shelves floats through the air on a cloud of black. As my hand grips the spine, the barest of smirks crosses my face.
Of all the pieces in this room, this one has brought me the greatest escape and the utmost knowledge.
Through the pages of information, I’ve scribbled my own discoveries, teachings, and feelings. It was my escape from my reality and the learning journey I needed to become one with my gift.
I haven’t opened it since I brought my Primary here.
Peeling the cover open, a whoosh slices through the silence. The envelope that hits the ground sends violent trembles through my body. My hands shake so profoundly, I drop my book on the floor and stare at the parchment as though it’s a deadly poison.
Why the fuck is that letter in my book?
Commanding my shadows to lift it off the floor, I scramble in my mind to recall how it was placed there. The day it appeared in my childhood room with Corentin and me, I sent it here through my shadows.
Never did I command them to place it in my favorite book.
It’s not that I’ve forgotten about it. I could never, but I’ve put its existence in the very back of my mind.
Finding out how he died was a piece of closure I believe we all needed. It settled a war inside of me just as much as it started another. The need to avenge his death is strong, and I have all intentions of seeing it through.
This letter, though…I have no clue what I’ll find in his words.
And honestly, I don’t believe I’m ready for a goodbye.
With shaky hands, I reach out and grasp the envelope. The crinkle of the parchment inside as I flip it over to run my finger across the sealed lip rings in my ears.
He said he let the truth of what he could spill out in this letter…
What if he left me answers? Answers that could help us.
Ones that could give me some fucking peace.
On my exhale, I release my hesitation and just do it. The cream-colored parchment looks brand new, preserved in time just for me. It feels like I’m holding the weight of the realm in my palms.
My breath gets lodged in my throat the second I see the first dot of ink. This is his real handwriting. He changed his penmanship in the birthday note he wrote for Willow to throw us all off.
Not with my letter. I’d notice his script anywhere.
Caspian, my boy.
Your paths have always been the most elusive for me. Any and every time I asked the sight to show me you, there were always too many possibilities to know which would come to fruition.
The word predictable is never one I’d used to describe you.
