Page 26 of Wicked Chains
I start pacing, trying to sort through my thoughts. It’s almost funny. Ever since my death, I've existed in this life, bound to the academy by revenge. I was alone, but I had a purpose. Then Rose arrived, and suddenly I remembered what it was to want something more than revenge. To want touch. Connection. Life.
And now I’m losing it all, all over again.
She looks so peaceful, so relaxed in this moment. I could tell her. Wake her up and explain everything, beg for her to forgive me, tell her I understand when she can’t, warn her that I might disappear at any moment, that each touch could be our last. But what would that do, except to place another burden on her?
No, I won't tell her. Not everything, not yet. Not until I'm sure there's no other way. For now, I'll appreciate every moment I have with her, until there are no more moments to have.
I like watching her sleep. My hand reaches out, hovering above her cheek. It happens again, and my hand disappears as I feel a tugging at my very being.
"I should have told you," I say, even though I know she can't hear me. "I tried to, but then you kissed me, and I was weak."
From the moment she first saw me, really saw me, when others couldn’t, I was hers. It was just a matter of time before I admitted it to myself. And now, the cruel joke of it all is that time might be the one thing I don't have.
I lean down, kissing the top of her head, her cheek, and finally, so lightly, her lips. She stirs slightly but doesn't wake up, and I wait until her breathing steadies again.
"If I disappear tomorrow, remember me like this," I whisper. "Not as a ghost, but as a man who loved you. The man who found his way back to life through you, even if only for a moment."
My body glitches again, longer this time. For several seconds, I'm more absent than present, on both sides of the veil. It takes everything I have to pull myself back, to tether myself to this room, to her.
I don't know how much longer I can fight it. The pull of whatever waits beyond here grows stronger every hour. But I'll fight it with everything I have, for as long as I can. For her. She needs me, even if she’ll never trust me again. She’s in danger, and I won’t leave until she’s safe.
Rose sighs in her sleep, her hand reaching out as if searching for me. I take it in mine, squeezing gently, and she settles again, a small smile on her lips.
Outside her window, the night deepens, stars glittering in a universe too big to comprehend. Somewhere out there, there's an answer to what's happening to me. There has to be. Because I'm not ready to let go, not when I've only just found something worth holding onto.
Not when I've only just found her.
I stretch out beside her again, my arm draped protectively over her waist, my chin resting on the top of her head. For now, at least, I'm here. Solid. Present. And I intend to stay that way for as long as fate, or whatever governs the rules of my existence, allows.
Even if it's just until morning.
Twelve
Rose
I wake up reaching for a ghost who isn't there.
The bed beside me is empty, and my fingers grasp at nothing but air, while the familiar ache of being on my own settles into my chest.
Last night feels like a dream, finding Drake, bringing him back, the way he touched me, held me, made me feel like maybe I wasn't alone in this mess after all. But now I'm in my empty room, feeling like maybe none of it was real, though the soreness between my legs tells me it absolutely was. My heart flutters just thinking about it. About him.
I need to be careful.
Letting anyone get so close won’t end well, for me, or for them.
Sunlight streams through the window, letting me know that it’s later than I thought. Classes start in less than an hour, and I have no idea what Drake's disappearance means. Would he just leavewithout telling me, after how we were together? I’d like to think he wouldn’t do that.
I close my eyes, trying to push away the fear that he's gone for good this time. Instead, I think about Hank, my unlikely little frog familiar. The one who helped me find Drake in the first place.
"Hank?" I say, concentrating on the connection I felt when I dismissed him yesterday. "I could use some company, buddy."
Nothing happens at first, and I feel kind of silly. Then a soft green glow appears on my nightstand, condensing into a small, bumpy shape that turns into my new familiar. Hank blinks up at me.
“Ribbit.”
"Hey, Hank!" I’m surprised by how genuinely happy I am to see him. "Sorry to bother you, but I didn't want to be alone."
Hank croaks softly and hops onto my hand. He seems equally happy to see me, which is weird because he's a frog, but I'll take the companionship where I can get it.
