Page 68 of Echos and Empires
Emma pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, tears blurring the edges of her vision. They spilled over, unchecked, wetting her cheeks with all the relief and fear and love that had built up inside her.
“You’re here,” she said, the words half a sob, half a prayer. Her fingers brushed against his face, as if the texture of his skin could prove he was more than a figment of her imagination.
William nodded, and the intensity in his eyes broke her heart a little, only to mend it again with every blink.
“I’m here,” he said, the certainty of it sinking into her like rain into parched earth.
The kiss had grounded her, the familiar press of his lips, the surety of his embrace, but now it was his voice, his words, binding him to her more securely than anything else. She hugged him again, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He was solid and real, and the tension in her chest began to ease, unraveling with every beat of his heart against her own.
Desperation and longing colored her movements as she pulled back again, needing to see him, to absorb him into her memory and her skin and her soul. “Will,” she said, his name tangled in her throat like a thread she couldn’t quite pull free. The sound of it, spoken into the closeness between them, unraveled some of the disbelief she’d been carrying. “William.”
They stayed like that for a moment, suspended in the sweet unreality of the present, where everything else seemed to fade. Emma searched his eyes, seeking out the boy she loved in their depths. Her own tears made it hard to see, but the force of her need cleared the haze.
With each heartbeat, each second that passed without him disappearing, she felt the weight of his absence lifting from her shoulders. The fear that he might slip away grew smaller and smaller, and in its place was the solid assurance of him.
“I’m here. I’m here and I’m so damn sorry.”
“Say it again,” she whispered, her voice a soft demand, a tether that bound him to this moment with her.
His lips brushed hers, not quite a kiss, more like a promise. “I’m here, Emma,” William said again, giving her the only answer she needed.
Her breath tangled with his, their closeness defying the days and the darkness that had separated them. Each word, each glance was a salve on the wounds of worry she’d nursed. It seeped into her, deep and rich, painting over the doubts and turning them into nothing but shadows on the wall. His presence was bright, blindingly so, and Emma let herself be dazzled, let herself be carried away by the light of him.
“I’m so damn sorry,” his voice broke then, the first time she’d heard him cry, too.
It was more real than anything else about him right now. “What did they do to you?” she asked softly, not sure she wanted to know.
He shook his head, silent, and the ache inside her deepened. He looked mostly fine on the outside, but she could tell he wasn’t here, not in the way she needed him to be. Emma rose, drawing a steadying breath.
“I want to be alone with him,” she told Chris, who gave her a nod before rounding up the others. She watched them go, then turned back to William, determination burning through the doubt. “I’m going to bring you back to me,” she said, more promise than threat. “You can apologize later.”
He sat hunched, fragile, words pouring out like spilled marbles. “Emma, I’m so sorry. I thought—” His voice cracked, and he rubbed his temples, lost and scared and achingly unfamiliar.
“You’re safe now,” Emma said, desperation bleeding into her words. She knelt beside him, touched his arm, and flinched at the jolt of cold. She didn’t pull away, even though the chill ofhis distance numbed her. “What happened, Will? It wasn’t that long, was it?”
He shook his head, avoiding her eyes, retreating into himself. Blond hair fell across his forehead in a way that made her heart squeeze. It was the only familiar thing about him right now. The rest of him was a stranger. A stranger she couldn’t lose, not like this.
She’d never seen him so unmoored, so absent from himself and her. This was William—the William who was always sure, always steady. Seeing him hollowed out by fear made her chest ache with a pain that was hard to bear.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” he whispered, each word carrying the weight of a confession. “They said?—”
Emma pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him with a gentle but insistent touch. “It doesn’t matter now. We’re here. We’re together.”
“But—”
She couldn’t stand it. The way he looked, the way he sounded, as if they weren’t in the same world. She pushed back from the floor, straightening with a rush of resolve that stung like tears.
“Chris,” she called, her voice clear and certain. “I want to be alone with him. Can you guys clear out for a bit?” Emma held his gaze, not flinching, not blinking.
“Whatever you both need,” he said, not a command but a reassurance that they wouldn’t go far. With a nod he turned to leave, the others following close. Alex glanced between Emma and William, concern etching lines on his face. Liam hung back, one hand on Ranger’s head, the other cradling a flashlight. It was too bright, glaring and out of place, and Emma shielded her eyes against it.
Bash tugged on Liam’s shoulder, steering him away. The others fell into line, reluctant but trusting her to do what sheneeded. Their footsteps echoed off the cave walls, fading like ghosts.
And then it was just them.
Emma and William.
He was quiet now, his apologies swallowed by the weight of the silence. It felt vast and empty, bigger than the cave itself. Emma fought the urge to fill it with words that would never be enough. Instead, she took a step closer, then another, until the space between them was so small she could almost forget it existed.
