Page 21 of Haunted Hearts

“Stable?”

Brock frowns. “Actually, now that I think about it, you should probably head back to bed. I’m fairly certain you’re not ready to walk around on your own yet. I bet the only reason you made it to the door is cause the guys are so exhausted, they didn’t hear you leave.”

Back to bed? Where the air is stuffy and I’m overly hot? Where I might fall apart at any moment? No. If I keep my eyes open, maybe I won’t disappear. Ican’tdisappear. What if the next time, I can’t come back or be me again? The thought of being stuck like that is enough to send me into another wave of panic. The hallway begins to shrink inwards. Is the air being sucked out of the room? I can’t seem to fill my lungs. My heart races again and in my periphery, the room begins to darken.

“Hey, Willow? Willow! Relax for me, baby girl,” Brock’s hands frame my face, anchoring me back into the moment. “Breathe and come back to me.”

I gasp as my focus returns. When did he let go of my hand? I reach up with my shaking ones as I stare into his face and place them on top of his.

“I can’t go back in there right now,” I whisper. “Please, I just need some air.”

Brock doesn’t hesitate. He nods as his hands fall away from my face, and he again takes one of mine. My reaper pulls me towards the end of the hallway, where we round the corner and come up to a set of glass doors. Brock pushes one open and guides me outside onto a balcony where fresh air hits me in the face.

I nearly stumble as I hurry over to the edge to grab the stone railing. Sucking in deep gulps of cool air calms me instantly. My eyelids slam shut as I focus on steadying my breathing. It takes a few minutes of silence before the panic fully subsides once more.

“I feel like I’m going crazy,” I admit in a whisper, feeling Brock’s presence behind me. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. One minute I’m here and the next… I’m not.”

My reaper moves to my side on light feet. Slowly, my eyes open as I turn to watch Brock lean forward and brace his forearms against the railing beside me. He stares out at the world. I look out too, curious about what the Realm of the Dead looks like.

The scene before me is beautiful. Given that the balcony is stories above the ground, I can see for miles. Green rolling hills are littered with free roaming sheep. Between two of the larger hills, I think I can see a few buildings, but I can’t be sure. Birds fly in a V-shape across the clear blue sky. Far out in the distance, splitting the sky from the ground, is a line of snow-tipped mountains.

The world is breathtaking.

“You’re not going crazy, Willow,” Brock says, breaking the short silence. We both turn to look at one another. “Your father tried to explain to us why you keep disappearing and reappearing, but I don’t think I have a true grasp on what is actually happening. I guess, the best way I can explain it is that the realm is calling to you and you’re answering it.”

I look over at him again, frowning. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either,” he admits. “But because you gave pieces of yourself to the others, they are able to keep you from…” he waves his hand to indicate my disappearing trick. “They keep you grounded. To think that soul welding was a positive thing in your situation.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

Soul welding? My confusion must be written on my face because Brock reaches forward without breaking eye contact and pushes the opening of my robe wider. I look down and gasp. There, running right down the middle of my chest, is a massive glowing slash, jagged and thick.

“That’s a piece of the soul of one of your friends,” Brock explains softly. “You took those pieces and soldered them to your own, which is known as soul welding. It’s a taboo practice.”

When his hand falls away, I reach up and resituate my robe to cover the mark, feeling a bit defensive.

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” I look away from Brock’s gaze. “But I had to save them, and, in the moment, I thought I was.”

In the end, all I did was tie the nooses around their necks.

“You won’t find any condemnation from me,” he assures me, as I stare back out at the property surrounding my dad’s house. “In any case, you’re safe from being taken forever by the realm. Death taught them that they can use the pieces of your soul they possess to pull you back when you start to lose yourself. They’ve been working day and night, first to find you, then to bring you back, and to keep you here. It’s why they’re probably still unaware that you’re gone. It’s taken a lot out of them.”

The idea that Theo, Kwil, Viktor, and Jonah anchor me, erases the lingering panic in my chest. With a relieved sigh, I relax my hold on the railing.

“I’d love to go for a walk and stretch my legs,” I peer over at Brock who’s turned his attention back out to the rolling hills. “Is it safe here to do that?”

Brock snorts before giving me a warm smile.

"This place is so well hidden that I think it’s probably the safest place in every single realm in existence. On top of its location, your dad put the strongest protection spells in place to keep anything, and anyone, out.” He waves his hand at the scene before us. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be roaming around just yet. You’re not fully recovered.”

His eyes drop to my hands, and I follow his gaze. I gasp in surprise at the sight of small lines, like cracks, running across the back of them. When I lift both hands, I find the cracks wrap around to my palms and up my wrists and into the sleeves of my robe.

“What—”

“You went through a lot, Willow,” Brock murmurs softly. “What that warlock did to you went soul deep.”

I stare at my hands, wondering what will happen if I squeeze them into fists. Would the pressure cause the thin cracks to widen? Would I shatter into a million pieces? I swallow, afraid to find out. A dark hand slides into view and takes my right hand. I look back up at Brock as he brings it to his chest and holds it there. His smile has returned.

“You’re healing, don’t worry.”

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