Page 92 of Heir Of Sun And Moon
Another sob is pulled out of me, nearly painful in the way it scratches up my throat. “She died because of me,” I heave out, gripping onto his wrists.
“Shelivedbecause of you, and then she chose for you to do the same. You saw the same look in her eyes that I did, Rhea. She choseyouin her final moments because she loved you,” he proclaims quietly, his thumbs wiping away my tears.
We stay enveloped in our own world for a few moments longer, and I allow myself to give some of that turmoil to him. It’s so terrifying to do so, and it doesn’t make the pain go away, but it liberates me. It frees me from not having to pull more mental boxes out to shove my feelings into. To not have to pretend that I am okay or put another shield around my heart. Though maybe there is a different, softer one there now, formed by the man by my side—to guard what is already his. One that isn’t meant to keep anything out, but instead is there to remind me that I’m not alone. And while I may not know what this new life is going to look like now that Bella isn’t with me, I cling to the only truth that I can right now: I love Flynn and he loves me.
We walk for another few hours, Flynn giving me space to grieve but holding onto my hand tightly. Occasionally, he points out homes and other small shops as we walk, the sight of them incredible because of how they almost blend into the forest. Every structure has flowers growing around itandon it. I’ve never seen so many shades of green, and I have certainly never seen so many different flowers.
There aren’t very many people out, I notice. The few that do walk on the path near us stare at Flynn keenly for a few seconds before giving him a large smile or a respectful nod of their head. Flynn is polite—returning their greetings—but he also dips his head as if he’s trying to hide. My mind is hazy as I focus on putting one foot in front of the other when I hear what sounds like scuffing on the stone ahead of us. Through the foliage, a man that looks to be about Flynn’s age appears. Flynn moves his head forward, squinting his eyes slightly before he smiles broadly.
“Cass!” he yells at the man and picks up our pace to a fast walk. The man freezes in place, his hand reaching for what appears to be a sword strapped to his back before recognition lights his eyes and his hand drops back down.
“No fucking way! You’re back.” He laughs as he jogs the rest of the way to us and nearly tackles Flynn with the intensity of his hug. Flynn lets go of my hand to embrace the man, patting his back vigorously as they laugh and start talking too fast for me to understand.
After a few moments, Flynn clears his throat and reaches for me, his hand finding the small of my back. “Rhea, this is Cassius, my best friend.”
Cassius steps forward, dipping his head respectfully as he looks me over. His dark skin crinkles around his light blue eyes as he smiles, his white-blonde hair long and tied back from his face. He stands nearly as tall as Flynn, though his build is less muscular.
“Rhea? That’s a beautiful name. Andyouare a beautiful woman,” he all but purrs, adding a wink. His grin grows even wider when he sees the narrowing of Flynn’s eyes. I notice that his cheek forms a tiny indent on one side when he smiles, and I can’t help but give him a weak smile of my own. Even if my heart feels like it has been trampled on.
“Are my parents home?” Flynn asks as we amble back down the path. Cassius leads the way in front of us, and although he has a long sword strapped down his back, he wears no metal armor. He’s dressed in thick leathers in different shades of brown that belt and buckle in such a way that I wonder how long it takes him to get dressed.
“Holy shit! Oh my gods, that’s right. You don’t know,” Cassius says, swinging around to look at Flynn as he walks backwards now over the stone. My amusement grows as I wonder how he knows where to step while not looking. His eyes bounce excitedly between us, and it’s then that I notice he has a small scar on one temple that runs from his hairline to right underneath his eye.
“I don’t know what?” Flynn asks curiously, concern tightening the corners of his eyes.
My lips purse in response as I wonder if we are in any kind of danger. If perhaps King Dolian somehow knew that we were coming here and sent an army to get me back.They can’t get through the Spell.I breathe out a little sigh at that.
“Your father made a deal with the shifter king. He arrived a little bit ago, and everyone is at the beach now. I’ll get a carriage ready, and we can head there.” He runs backwards for a few feet, waiting until Flynn nods at him, and then turns around to sprint away.
“The shifter king?” I question, gazing up at Flynn. He tugs on my hand until we’re in a jog as well. Who is Flynn’s father that he can make a deal with a king from another kingdom?
“I guess so,” he says warily. Our footsteps echo out against the trees, my gaze down so that I don’t accidentally trip on anything. It isn’t until Flynn slows our jog that I look up again, gasping at the sight up on a hill in front of me.
The most beautiful structure built between four of the largest trees I’ve ever seen towers over me on my left as we walk. Stone, wood, vines, and flowers make up the building materials of this large… house? Castle? It looks palatial in its appearance though different from anything in the Mortal Kingdom. Each of the three levels has a wrap-around porch with portions of it covered by an awning made of flowers and vines. It’s the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen. As we near, I see mages dressed in the same way that Cassius is step in front of us on the path. Their eyes roam over us, only hesitating for a moment before they step off to the side. When we pass them, I watch as one of them stares at Flynn with a surprised look on his face. His gray eyes are glued to the man at my side.
A light wooden carriage adorned in vines and colorful flowers rolls up in front of us pulled by two large black horses, their coats shiny and thick. Cassius opens the door and extends a hand for me, which I take as I step up into it. Two deep green velvet benches line either side, but what draws my attention right away is the fact that the top of the carriage is completely missing. I take a forward-facing seat close to a small window, Flynn sitting next to me. Cassius shuts the carriage door, and I hear him climb onto the front before there is a snapping sound. Then we begin to move, the motion jarring. I let myself sink back into the seat, and Flynn extends his long legs out to the other side, his heels resting on the bench there. For a moment it’s silent as I look out the window, watching as the trees pass quickly by.
“After we see what is going on at the beach, I will introduce you to my parents and—” Flynn hesitates, waiting for me to look over at him. He brings a finger under my chin, gently tipping it up even higher. His lips kiss mine, just a trace of sensation, before he pulls back again. “And we can talk more.”
There’s a certain penitence to his voice, but before I have the chance to comment on it, the carriage is already slowing to a stop. I hear the soft murmuring of something in the air, and a scent I’ve never smelled before stings my nostrils. I look at Flynn in question, and without having to voice a single word, he smiles and nods his head.
“It’s the ocean,” he says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
The carriage door opens as Cassius pops his head in, his eyes dancing with delight as he looks from Flynn to me. “You two lovers ready?” He grins, laughing when Flynn shoves him back outside.
I step out of the carriage, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the scene ahead of me. A large gathering of people lines the entire beach in both directions. Flynn holds my hand tightly as Cassius leads us through the crowd, many of the people taking a double look at Flynn as he passes. I notice how their eyes grow wide before they all dip their chins at him, their gazes then going to where his hand holds mine. This repeats with nearly every single person we pass as we trudge through the sand. While Flynn is graceful in his movements, my shorter legs struggle to keep up with him as sand gets in my boots, flying everywhere with each step that I take. We finally break through the crowd, and Flynn halts our movements. I see the same iridescence of the Spell that I saw in the forest. The shimmering wall moves into the sky and over the water as far as the eye can see.
I can’t stop the small step I take forward, tugging on Flynn’s hand as I stare out at the expanse of water ahead of me. My heart beats wildly, as if it can pump fast enough to spread the tiny inkling ofexcitementI’m feeling through my otherwise-depressed state. The ocean is enormous; the bright blue waters, glimmering under the Spell, seem to go on forever. It’s similar to the lake I grew up looking at every day, but it’s alsoso much more.In the distance, a large ship bobs on the waves while a smaller row boat is pulled up onto the sandy shore. On the other side of the Spell, I can see a small group of people, three men and two women.
“Does the Spell work the same here as it did in the forest?” I ask Flynn quietly, chewing on my bottom lip.
His eyes stay locked on the people standing there as he answers, “No, there is a small section from the water to where the border officially begins that is like a neutral ground.” His hand squeezes mine tighter as we take another few steps closer.
The sun beats down on us, and I notice that no trees grow on the beach to block it out. Closest to the water is the largest man that I’ve ever seen, his height towering over those standing before him. His light golden brown skin and dark brown hair gleam under the bright daytime sun, only broken up by black swirls of some sort that go down the length of one arm. Standing directly in front of him is a woman. Her hands are on her hips as she leans forward, almost appearing as if she is yelling at him.
The breeze blows her dark blue dress and her curly brown hair behind her as she continues her conversation with the large man. To her side are an older man and woman holding hands. The woman has the same style of dress on, though hers is in a pink color, and her curly brown hair is tied up, but there is no denying that it’s the same hair as the woman in the blue dress. The man next to her looks to be about Flynn’s height, half of his longer black hair pulled back. He wears a style of clothing that isn’t quite a dress but goes down to his feet and is open in the middle—the dark blue and silver color of it contrasting against the light brown, almost white, color of the sand. And upon his head, glinting under the sun, is a golden crown.
Flynn tenses when the man with the crown looks over in our direction. He stares for an eternity, like his eyes can’t believe what they are seeing. Then they move on to me, where my hand holds Flynn’s, and a look I can’t decipher crosses his face through the slight malformation of the Spell. His gaze goes back to Flynn’s, and he moves to step forward when my view of him is blocked by an older man.
