Dropping my head back, I looked up into the night sky, bringing in my tears, trying to muster the strength to face Adora. I was not afraid of death, for I had died thousands of times. Death had never cared for me, so why give Death the pleasure of my fear? If I had to die, I would die with fortitude.
Adora, however, would be the one to suffer.
And she would suffer in the mess I’d left behind.
Zephyr grabbed the back of my head and pulled me close. “No one will hurt her. You have my word,” he promised in my ear. I nodded, unable to stop a tear from escaping. It landed on his mask. “Don’t let them see you cry.” I nodded again. “Be strong for her.” I dragged in a scattered breath, nodding.
After a short time, we broke apart, unable to look each other in the eyes. It was too difficult.
And Adora was hysterical behind me.
I could feel her pain like fists against my back.
I turned slowly, catching her eyes so bright and green.
The tip of her nose and her cheekbones were pink, and tears stained her face, track marks down her cheeks. Her lips were wet and trembling as she walked backward, holding her hand out in front of her to block me.
“No!” She cried, stepping back, her voice broken. “This is not happening.” Then she pointed a shaking finger at me. “You don’t deserve this! Why not Julian?!” she screamed, looking past me with eyes focused on Julian. Behind me, the Heathens just stared at her, saying nothing. Julian looked away, turning toward Fallon. This only made Adora more angry. “If anyone should fucking die it’s you, not Stone!” She charged at Julian, and I intercepted, grabbing her.
She beat my chest with her small fists.
Every blow sliced my heart.
“Adora, please.” I tried calming her down, but she struggled as though I wouldn’t die if she never said goodbye. “I’m begging you not to use this time to hit me or curse me.” Her body became weak, and she collapsed into my arms. The waves were soothing. Her cries were agony. The cold slashed across my face. It all made me shiver. “It feels right,” I said to her, rocking her against my chest. “It started with me, it ends with me.”
She shook her head, my shirt soaking up her tears.
“Let’s be honest with ourselves. if I told you the plan, you wouldn’t have let me come here today.” I sighed. “God, and I love you for it.”
“There has to be another way,” she cried. “I can’t do this without—”
“Yes, you can.” I leaned back to look her in the eyes. “Yes, you can. Life passes by like this,” I said, snapping my finger. “Time moves too quickly, Adora. Therefore, you will make the most of it.” I pushed her hair back. “My promise to you is that this anger possessing you will leave you. You will not have to bear the burden of it any longer.” I wiped my face. “You once told me you’d break me.” I chuckled through my emotion. “Do you remember that? That I wouldn’t feel it today, or tomorrow, that it would come when I least expected it?”
Adora nodded, and I smiled. “I believe it to be true for happiness, too. That perhaps you won’t feel it today, or tomorrow, or even the day after that, but it will hit you when you least expect it. And when it comes, I don’t want you to feel guilty about it. I want you to let it happen. Because the more good moments, happy memories, and smiles you have, the easier it will be for pain to fade. Then one morning you’ll wake up, and you’ll think of me, and it won’t hurt anymore. You’ll think of me and smile, not cry.
“You also have to have children,” I continued. “This time, I don’t want to be forgotten. So, I want you to have children so you can tell them about us, and how we fell in love, all right? A cautionary tale that echoes into eternity.”
I exhaled, blowing out my cheeks. This time, I was dying as a hero, so perhaps I would be reborn into one instead of a monster.
“And you’re going to have a funeral for me,” my words caught in my throat. “I never had a funeral, and you’re my wife, so you must. You’re going to celebrate what we have, and you’re going to wear that red dress, all right?”
Her eyes were so green as I wiped the tears from under them.
“I’msogoing to find you, Adora Danvers,” I whispered, everything blurry. I wiped my face to see her better, then held hers again, keeping her flush against me. “When the time comes, I don’t care what year it is or who your soulmate is, I’m coming for you.”
Adora wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me on our shore.
She tasted like my final breath, and I drowned in the kiss, pulling her closer—our faces wet, our hearts aching, our lips desperate.
When I found the courage to pull back, Adora’s eyes veered first, drifting behind me. I watched horror slowly consume her face, and then she was ripping herself from my arms.
I turned, and Adora was sprinting down the beach, illuminated by the moon, screaming for Ivy, who was standing at the shoreline near the rocks.
The sapphire was hanging from Ivy’s neck.
It all happened as though I was watching a film from the corner of the island. As though it were all a story and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
The sapphire glowed bright blue, and an aurora surrounded her in the night. This light showed shadows snaking around her body. They spiraled from her feet to her head, coiling as if to exhume her soul. Then one by one, these shadows slid into the sapphire, disappearing inside.
