She ripped the sapphire from its setting and grabbed Alec’s palm.
“What are you doing?” he asked, confused, panicked.
She used the jagged corner of the stone to slice open his palm, then did the same to her own as Alec froze in shock. Blood oozed out, spilling down the edge of their palms and dripping from their wrists.
“Mother!” Hedera cried, horror appearing in her youthful eyes.
Lacie held her close to her chest, stroking her hair. “Shh,child.”
“Circe, why are you doing this?” Alec held the back of Circe’s neck, trying to catch her gaze. “Answer me.”
“The beam is your weapon, but this stone is mine,” Circe said, taking his hand and cupping the stone between their cut-open palms. Circe’s eyes lifted to his. “You will return to the lighthouse without me, Alec.” A tear chased one after another. “I will ensure that you live a happy and fulfilling life. You will not know pain. You will not know sorrow. Youwillbreathe easy. As will I.”
“No.” Panic washed over Alec. “Circe, please don’t do this!”
“I won’t risk your life. I can’t lose you either. And I can’t walk away from you, knowing we’ll both live in misery while apart.” Circe cried. “You deserve peace and happiness.” She fell back on her heel and shrugged. “You are the man I love, Alec. I’m eternally yours, no matter how long it takes until we’re together again.”
Emotion flooded Alec, and his throat tightened, tears gathering in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. So, he cupped the nape of her neck and pulled her close, pressing his mouth to the shell of her ear, squeezing his eyes closed. A single tear fell from the corner of his eye.
“And I’m eternally yours, my darling siren,” he whispered on an exhale. A breath. Like a secret. But it was no secret at all because his gentle confession beamed loud inside them.
They held on to each other for a moment longer, then Circe closed her eyes and whispered a spell to link their souls together, the sapphire their bond.
The sapphire glowed between their hands, lighting the cave in an underwater-world shade of blue. Kaleidoscopic spotlights bounced off the
walls like stars,and Hedera and Lacie marveled at the sight.
Circe’s musical whispers filled the cave, a siren’s call. This bewitched Alec in ways he’d never thought possible and in ways Circe never thought to use on the man she loved. “Conspirare. Perspirare. Inspirare,” she sang, transferring all her magic into the stone. “Breathe together, breathe through, breathe into you.” To be together in spirit while apart was the only way until they could meet again. So they felt agony nevermore. So they felt misery nevermore. “Ontil thy finneuma.”
This was the last time Alec heard the sound of Circe’s voice.
When the sapphire swallowed up the light and all was dim again, it took a moment for him to catch his bearings. His eyes adjusted, his legs strengthened, and he reached out and held Circe’s face in his wounded hand.
Then Circe kissed him hard, deeply, as though to leave a phantom stamp in their hearts. And Alec kissed her slowly, passionately. She was his past, his present, his future.
“Mother!” Hedera cried, and her daughter’s voice pulled her away from Alec.
“We must go now!” Lacie insisted, watching as Circe placed the sapphire back into the setting. “This way through the secret passage in the tunnel.”
Circe turned back to Alec and looked into his eyes, wishing she never had to let go.
“I’ll wait for you,” Alec said, fingers intertwined, never wanting to part. “I’ll wait at the top of the tower with your beam on for an eternity if that’s what it takes.” A promise. An oath. A vow. “Every night when you see the light, think of me.”
And these were the last words Alec had spoken to Circe.
In fact, these were the last words Alec had spoken at all.
CHAPTER 46
STONE
January 20, 2021
11 Days until the Cantini-Sullivan Wedding
The slumbering townof Weeping Hollow was frozen in fear.
In the middle of Town Square, snow covered the gazebo like a fur coat. No longer was it a structure where people could rest, read, or do as they pleased. In the midst of a cruel winter, the gazebo had become a creature on four legs, stalking with white, milky eyes, bared teeth, and fur made of snow, the wind’s howl its growl. It had forced flatlanders indoors, under eaves, and on stoops, where they were bundled together in piles, the cold muting their whispers and robbing heat from their every breath. This snow blanketed winding cobbled streets, and draped every gas lamp post, which had long been forsaken by the lamplighter.
