“I cannot be with her.”
“Yes, you can. It takes one look—"
“You do not know what you are talking about!” he roared, making me instinctively step back… until I saw his thumbs frantically rub over the scars again.
Sighing, I stepped forwards. “You could be happy right now, Kingston. Willow could be here with you. In your arms—”
“LEAVE!” His arms shook from the rage, but even among the invisible flames rising in his honey eyes, longing and pain shone through.
“You are not Raithian’s sentry anymore!” I shouted too, not backing down. He needed to hear it.
“What did you just say?” he breathed, utter shock dousing the flames.
“You arenota sentry anymore. You don’t need to keep punishing yourself, Kingston.”
Silence engulfed the room while he looked at me for several seconds, internalizing my words.
“That might be easy to say,” he finally confessed, seeming defeated. “Not so easy to do, but I do not expect you to understand.”
“I know I could never understand what you went through. But I do understand what it is to cling to the worst thing that ever happened to you, for the rest of your life, because you think you somehow deserve it.”
The same fire that scorched his insides reached my throat, and I pointed to my side even as I burned.
“For years, I held on to the pain because I believed that my dad dying in that fire was my fault. I didn’t have the full story. I didn’t really understand, but I knew he died saving my life, and Ihatedmyself for it,” I confessed, my words struggling through the knot in my throat. “Then I came here and learned the truth. I met you, I met Willow, and hundreds of people who were hurting like I was. It took stepping outside of my own pain and recognizing theirs for me to finally understand. Once Willow noticed my scar, I realized that it wasn’t a curse, it was a promise of hope.”
“My scars willneverbe hope,” he seethed, anguish marring his features as the pressure increased in his fisted hands.
“I know. I know the memories they carry haunt you, and I couldn’t possibly imagine how that feels. I also know that, like I was, you are clinging to them for dear life because you think you deserve that pain. And that pain is all you know.”
“I am not you,” he grunted, dragging his gaze away from me.
“You are right. Our stories are vastly different, but you arenotthat sentry either. You chose to turn against the only way of life you knew. You chose to follow my father. Youchoseto become the man you are today, Kingston. Those wereyourchoices. That other man was never the real you, only what they forced you to be.”
He didn’t speak, but the muscles of his jaw jerked, trying to contain the anguish fighting to leave him for good.
“It is time you leave him behind because you are worthy of so much more than you think possible. You deserve to feel the softness of Willow’s lips. You deserve to hold the woman who loves you in your arms and be happy. And frankly, Willow deserves that too.”
“You do not understand!” he shouted, his voice becoming raspy from the grief coursing through him. “Even if I found a way to leave the monster behind, these willalwayshold me back!” His hands shook between us, showing the full extent of his disfigured palms to me.
Eyes burning with his pain, I took one last step to him and gripped his hands. “That is why I’m taking them from you.”
Kingston’s eyes widened with my revelation, but before he could protest, I sent a stream of my healing magic into him.
“No,” he gasped, his features shifting through emotions before my eyes—confusion, relief, shock, torment. “Stop!” he demanded, successfully yanking his arms away when he staggered back, breaking the connection.
“You stubborn giant!” I shouted back. “You are going to let me heal you, you hear me? I’m taking your scars away even if that’s the last thing I do!” Calling on my Dragon strength, I lunged for him, seeing for the first time ever, a sliver of fear in his eyes.
He whirled around to escape, but I jumped on him, my arms wrapping fiercely around him and grabbing his hands. We slammed sideways against the wall from the force, and I pushed my healing magic into him once more. He tried to get out of my hold, but I was stronger than him now; he wasn’t going anywhere. This time, I wasn’t gentle. The power crashed into his being, his muscles tensing from the intensity of what he was feeling.
A moment later, he stopped fighting, and I internally sighed in relief… until I felt him shaking against me.
“Chief, are you okay?” I asked, beginning to loosen my arms on him, but he gripped my hands tightly, stopping me from letting go.
“Aaah!” The rasp bellow ripped from the depths of his being, eliciting a wave of pain that had taken far too long to be set free. His form sagged against the wall, all strength leaving him.
Eyes burning, I continued to hug him fiercely while we slid to the ground together, giving him the strength that he needed.
With each cry that tore through Kingston’s throat, echoing around us, a scar was erased. As each tear fell onto his bronzed hands, the ghost of the sentry that haunted him began to fade. And with every ounce of healing magic infused into the man who taught me who I truly was—a warrior—that part of his past vanished, until it was just him, me, and the sobs that cleansed his soul.
