Page 27 of Haunted Hearts

When she looks over at me, my eyes slide away, unable to meet her gaze. “Fulton told me how he got to the Realm of the Dead and what he was doing before he got here. We may have a bit of a reprieve from him for now, but he’s not going to give up. He’ll be back once he’s collected enough Death Magic to do so.”

Brock frowns. “What was he doing, Willow? How did he get his hands on enough Death Magic to begin with?”

With a deep breath, Willow tells us what unfolded with Fulton. Everything that she can remember, at least. I can see the way she struggles to recall things. In those moments, her face twists with confusion and her eyes cloud over. When she’s done talking, we all fall silent.

Brock pushes away from the table, rises, and begins to pace.

“He’s been using souls to access Death Magic?” he asks. Instead of waiting for a confirmation he continues, “A soul wouldn’t survive that. Its very essence would be used up. A reaper wouldn’t make it through something like that either.” He lets out a shaky breath as he stops suddenly by the door. “All those innocent spirits and reapers, gone.”

“You never noticed other reapers were missing?” Theo asks him.

Brock glares at him, “It’s not like I know every single reaper. Besides, occasionally reapersdogo missing on a reaping. While it’s nearly impossible to be killed on the other side, there are some realms that have creatures, or people, that have the ability to hurt or destroy us if we’re seen. It’s rare, and in those places we're extra cautious, but it's possible that these reapers were probably considered dead because they didn’t return. No one would have thought they were being used by a madman.” He throws his hands up before heading towards the door. “I need to think.”

Willow pushes her seat back as she stands. I don’t miss the flash of surprise and excitement in the reaper’s eyes when he turns to find Willow rounding the table and coming towards him. My jealousy returns when she gives him a genuine smile. It’s the first that lacks any bitterness or sadness since she’s been up.

“You’ll be back, right?” Willow asks him softly.

The reaper nods, his mouth twitching up into a smile. “Absolutely, baby girl. You can’t get rid of me.”

He plants a kiss on her forehead. Then, he steps back and leaves the apartment.

When the door shuts, Willow doesn’t turn around to face us right away. I stare at her back. She’s stiff, her fists are clenched, and I swear she’s holding her breathing. Shit, I was right. She is going to send us packing.

No! Staying!The monster wails his anguish. It echoes the pain in my heart.

Has she been waiting for Brock to leave this whole time, so she didn’t have an audience?

The thought that this could be it, that Willow’s bracing herself to break things off with us, is enough to jumpstart my aching heart. She has to know everything then. If she’s going to force us to leave, I need to say my piece. The true, unfiltered agony that tears through me as I get up and stalk towards Willow causes my knees to shake.

She doesn’t move when I come to a stop directly behind her. I know she senses me, and she can’t miss the way my shadow has fallen over her. My breath hits the back of her neck where several strands of curls, too short to go up into the messy bun, move.

Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, Willow turns around.

Her head tilts upwards. This time when she looks me in the eye, I don’t look away. Instead, I stare back, and note the firm resolve looking back at me. So, this is it. Willow’s made her decision.

No.Ours. I wish I could make the creature inside of me understand. She can’t be ours if she doesn’t want to be. I open my mouth to tell her my feelings, my hopes, and that I understand why she wants us to go but that I hate it all the same.

“I’m sorry.”

The two words that stumble out of her mouth surprise me. All the tension within me immediately vanishes, my body sagging with confusion.

“None of you should be here.” Her voice deepens. “If I could turn back time and stop all of this from happening, I would. But I can’t. You’re dead because of me. I realize that ‘sorry’ is a horrifically pathetic word to express how bad I feel, but it’s the best I have right now. I promise, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that I don’t fuck upthislife for you. If that means you guys have to leave me, I understand and won’t stand in your way. I don’t know how this whole soul welding thing works in this realm, but maybe it won’t be so tough this time around, if you want to split up.”

My heart fractures before breaking into little pieces as her bottom lip trembles and tears flood her eyes. She’s apologizing to me, tous, for something that was never her fault. How terrible we must be for her to believe we fault her for anything. I groan. Add this to the teetering tower of failures that I have incurred.

Make. Happy.The monster in me urges me forward. As if I need any encouragement.

I choke as my guilt forms a knot in my throat. When her tears start to fall, I can’t stop from reacting. Gingerly, careful of her fragile state, I take her face between my hands, lean down and kiss her. Her half gasp, half sob gives me access to her mouth. I don’t hesitate to deepen the kiss. I pour my agony into it.

My own sob is captured by her mouth as my body shudders. I pull away from her only to press my forehead against hers.

“I lost you, Willow,” my own tears blur my vision. I squeeze my eyes shut as the weight of my guilt and heartache presses down on my heart and conscience. “Then I found you suffering. If we…” I swallow. “If we never showed up at your doorstep you never would have met Fredrick or Fulton, you wouldn’t have been the target of the Brotherhood, and I… I wouldn’t have killed you.”

One of my hands slides up and around her head to fist her bun. Tugging her head back, I capture her mouth again, needing to taste her. Willow’s hands come up and grab my shirt to pull me closer. I don’t deserve this. She should be pushing me away. I did something unspeakable. Again, I sob as tears spill down my cheeks.

“Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me,” I plead softly as I pull away from her mouth, my fingers retracting from her hair, only so that I can fall to my knees in front of her. I’ll happily beg for her forgiveness. I’ll stay here on my knees until they bleed or until my bones crack under the pressure of my mounting guilt. Whatever she wants from me, I’ll do it.

“Kwil—” Willow’s response is cut off as I yank open her robe so I can lean forward and kiss her breasts and stomach. I hardly notice as it flutters to the ground by her feet.

---