“What if the heart is capable of neither? What if it’s damaged beyond repair?” I asked.
“It’s not,” Zephyr replied. “One cannot live without a heart; but without a soul, most certainly.”
I looked around at the four of them. “This is who we choose to become?” I asked in disbelief. “We are as barbaric as they, only protecting ourselves and not giving a speck of shit for our humanity. No wonder we’ve been cast aside as monsters.”
Zephyr was looking at me. “It seems there is a misunderstanding.” Silence bloated in the tunnel as his voice called the attention of all. There was an air about it that pulled you in, his words demanding to be heard without ever raising or changing his tone.
“We were not cast aside as monsters,” he corrected. “They never decided what we were, and neither did we. We were born a cursed thing with a beating heart and no right to use it. We were born Heathens without a right to put ourselves or distractions such as love first. Your life and your body does not belong to you. It belongs to a coven. And at this moment, Danvers, the fate of the entire coven you were born to protect, yet one you can never get close to, is in danger. Let that sink in.”
My eyes narrowed. “Apologies, I was under the impression it was the fate of an entire town depending on us, lest you prefer to die as self-serving monsters, too.”
We stared at one another for a few challenging seconds.
Then the darkness edging his gaze fell away.
He stepped closer and grabbed the back of my neck. “Stop calling yourself a monster. You are not a monster. I’ve seenmonster, as you have last night,” he said low, laying his palm against my chest. “It is inside us, here in our hearts, where monsters are born. Should this evil arise, you can choose to protect it, make excuses for it, justify it, or you can choose to banish it. Either way, what you feed is what stays, and those whom you allow to surround you is what you become.” He nodded. “All right?”
Zephyr had boxed out the others around us to speak directly to me.
He touched me with compassion. He looked into my eyes.
It was the second time in my life that another man had spoken to me with empathy as though I was human, respected, cared for. The first was Ambrose when I was ten, and I didn’t think Zephyr realized how much that meant to me.
He patted my chest before letting me go.
The others exchanged glances.
Then we began our walk again.
When we reached Norse Woods and exited the tunnel, daylight inhaled us in one breath. Phoenix was moving slower with his hand permanently clutching his head and his jaw clenching.
His ankle buckled, and Julian lifted him upright.
“Give me a minute,” he seethed between his teeth. “I just need ... a break.”
Upon collapsing to the ground, Phoenix rested against a tree. The others gazed quietly to the east, where a neighborhood pressed up against Norse Woods.
Under the dull sky, lights glowed from their windows. My mind wandered to what it must have been like to have been raised here, among a coven and the Heathens. I wondered what my life would have been like.
The silence was broken when Phoenix began to laugh.
His shoulders shook as he dropped his head against the tree, his laughter swelling.
“He’s so high,” Beck said with a laugh to Julian.
Zephyr faced Phoenix, irritated. “And why are you laughing?”
Phoenix tried to contain himself. “Nothing, I was just thinking.”
“Well, spit it out,” Zephyr insisted.
Phoenix erupted in laughter again, and the rest of the Heathens couldn’t help but find it amusing.
“I was just thinking about how I just fucking died, man, and now I’m sitting here, high as a kite and chilling with a walking, talking mummy who brought me back to life.” He raised his palm to me, eyes watering. “Welcome to Weeping fucking Hollow.”
A smile broke on their faces, all seriousness evaporating.
Phoenix’s laughter died. “So, Stone. Tell me, did this love affair with Adora start on Bone Island?”
