Page 15 of Light As A Feather
“Yes.” Shoving a door open, we enter the main bedroom.Our bedroom.The gold details catch the moonlight on the wall, and dark paint reflects that same light back at us, illuminating some of the framed photos of us at so many different ages—bonfires, foraging, and that last autumn when everything was still perfect.
“Thorne,” she begins quietly.
I groan at the sweetness of my nickname coming from her mouth. “Say it again.” In a breath, we’re face to face, hips pressing together, my hand clutching the hair at the nape of her neck.
She remains stiff and silent as I greedily lick the remnants of intimacy from her lips. When I don’t release her, she slips her hand between us, pressing firmly against my chest.
“We’re not doing this. Unlock this and show me to my room.”
“You’re looking at it.” I can’t help the smile that overcomes me as she computes what I’ve just said. “You’re going to sleep beside me, attached to me, so you don’t go running off. I meant it when I said I wasn’t letting you get away.” I pull back the covers with a flourish.
Her silence gives way to frustration. “I’m telling you now, there’s no point. I’ve tried everything. State after state, expert after expert, witches, mediums, psychics, I’ve tried it all. I’ve begged, I’ve raged, I’ve—” Taking a deep breath, she steadies herself. “There’s nothing that can be done. You should let me go before he comes back and?—”
“And what?” I challenge.
“Hawthorne, if not for your own sake, then mine, please just trust me. The fallout of this will be horrific if you don’t let me go.”
Fingers intertwining with the short length of chain, I pull her to me, so she’s forced to climb onto the edge of the bed. “I’ll say this once more. He will take you from me over my dead body.”
“I have no doubt he can find a way to ensure that’s the case.” She sighs defeatedly. “You have no idea what it was like to see the light leave your eyes; it’s haunted me far worse than his antics. I don’t intend to witness that again. I can’t bear it.”
“I can’t imagine. But the years that have passed without you have been an absolute nightmare, Sol. I know what’s at stake. I’m not running anymore, and neither are you. Believe in me or not; that’s up to you, but I’ve never broken a promise to you, and I don’t intend to start.”
Her jaw tenses as she watches me intently. Sliding into the bed, I lay down, patting the mattress for her to do the same. Argumentative energy vibrates from within her as she stares holes into the ceiling, but her throat works harshly. I don’t need her to say anything to know that she can’t vocalize what she wants. Not because she’s afraid of my response or because she’s trying to hold her tongue, but because she quite literally can’t get the words out. Stress has always been a major trigger that impairs her ability to communicate verbally.
That I’m responsible for overstimulating her in this way breaks my heart. It’s as if she sees the realization in my eyes as she shakes her head, defying the tears that gather on her lashes. If there’s one thing Sol hates, it’s pity or being vulnerable. But I don’t pity her, and she’s safe with me. I need to remind her of that.
Locking my fingers with hers, I turn on my side to face her. “I’ve got you. I’ve got us.” My lips catch the stray tear that slidesdown her temple. “All you need to do is trust me. I promise—you’re going to be okay.”
For some people, the soft crash of rolling ocean waves is the most peaceful sound. For me, it’s Sol’s breathing. The smooth sailing of air in and out of her nose, filling her lungs, sustaining her life, is the only sound that puts me at ease. And it sounds so much better coming from right next to me rather than some low-quality recording.
But those were desperate times.
The darker part of my mind chimes in...At least I still have it.Just in case she leaves. Just in case she’s taken from me.
No. I don’t accept those possibilities. She’s not going anywhere.
Carefully, I shift closer, just enough so I can feel the sacred solace of her warmth.
Inhaling deeply, I search for the incense that clings to her hair and the earthy scent of her skin beneath the delicious notes of the smoky plum of her perfume, which she now wears. It washes over me, soothing like a well-loved candle and the comfort of home. My shoulders sink into the mattress, my neck fully rests on the pillow, instead of those central muscles straining for the sound of the front door opening. Instead of the rocky current of worry, there’s a steadiness in my gut, a sense of rightness. It’s not lost on me how quickly she drifted off, and without the TV on, at that.
I did it. She’s here.She’s home.I can rest.
Sleep doesn’t keep me, though. There’s something waiting for me in the night. A feeling I know well.
One by one, my senses snap into wakefulness at the feel of skin on skin. My breath stills as pressure increases against my hips. Soft thighs hug me on either side. It’s muscle memory to slide my hands under the curve of her ass, feeling the full weight of her there. Above me, Solaneen straddles my waist, an image that would be a dream if she weren’t clutching the knife I keep hidden in the bedpost over my chest.
“This is new.” I aim for levity as I get my bearings, but it’s difficult to do when there’s no fire in her eyes as she stares down at me. The whites of her eyes glow like moonstone. There’snothingthere. Looking out of the windows of her soul is a void. That scares me more than the blade, but I bury that fear in favor of control.
“What are we going to do with this?” I ask as I slowly raise my hand to meet hers. In an alarmingly quick movement, she raises it above her head.
“Solaneen, wake up.” My voice is firm, but my confidence is shaky as I take in the empty eyes that somehow burrow into me and see right through me in equal measure. “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret. Give me the knife. It’s okay, you’re dreaming.”
Her lips curl back, rigid and wrong. “Solaneen isn’t here right now.” The pitch of her voice is an octave higher as another layers over hers, the familiar tone a mere whisper breaking through.
I’m no stranger to possessions, but my heart still stutters in my chest at the confirmation of my suspicion. Sliding my hands up her arms, I grab her by the wrists just over her hammering pulse, strengthening our connection. Sure enough, the spirit of a young woman I’ve seen in passing a few times has taken control of her body.Fuck.
The entity jerks against my hold, but I tighten my grip.
