Tilting his head to the side, he crouches down again, reaching a black gloved hand out toward my face. Instinctively I push his hand away and he stills, before slowly caressing my cheek with his thumb. My heart stops. I can’t breathe. What the fuck is happening? When he pulls his hand away, he holds it in front of his face, and thick, red liquid drips from his gloved finger onto the grass between us. I reach up, wincing and hissing as I touch the wound near my temple, feeling the warm blood flowing down my face.
“You’re hurt…”
I stiffen as his smooth, silky voice sends waves of déjà vu through my heart and into my soul.
“You should be dead.” Ripping a piece of cloth from his cloak, he gently dabs at the blood dripping from my wound. “I’m glad you’re alive.”
I don’t pull away, I simply watch him carefully, brows furrowed and eyes slanted, wondering why he doesn’t just kill me. Is he responsible for my fall from the bridge? For my parents’ deaths? Whatever he is, I want nothing to do with him. For the past year, I’ve wondered how true it might be that ghosts, monsters, or demons exist in this world, but here in this moment, I no longer have to wonder about any of it. It’s true.
“What are you?” Blinking slowly up at him, I clench my teeth to stop the shivers that have my teeth rattling together, but the shaking isn’t from the cold, it’s from the fear racing through my body as he continues cleaning the wound on my head.
He appears too focused on getting the bleeding to stop to notice me watching him. I can’t trust him. I don’t even know what the hell he is. I need to go home. I need to get to Olivia. Quickly I reach for the sword behind his back, grabbing the hilt and standing as I pull it up and out of the holster. Pointing it toward him, I watch as he slowly—so terrifyingly slowly—turns his head to look at me. As he stands, he lets out a laugh that makes my heart race all over again. I feel his dark power pouring out of him in my direction, reaching and grasping at me to get closer. I can’t let that happen.
As he takes a step toward me, I take a step back. Then another.
“Please!” I yell out, tightening my grip on the sword and preparing myself to use it if needed.
“You wanted to die.” He prowls toward me slowly. “Now you want to live?” He asks, again tilting his head sideways as he watches me.
“I don’t want to die. I… I don’t even remember jumping! Please… don’t kill me!” Lifting the sword up higher, I clumsily jab it in his direction.
“Believe me, Nora. I want nothing more than for you to live.” The sadness in his tone distracts me, and my gaze shifts and settles on his face instead of his hands.
He sighs quietly, standing still as a statue before quickly lunging and grabbing the weapon from my hands. He doesn’t even have to try hard. He overpowers me more easily than any human would. Pulling away from him, I stumble and fall, hearing the loud clunk of my head smashing against a rock as I land backward on the ground. I stare up at the man or monster or…angel before me, and everything around me blurs as I softly moan in pain. He pulls his hood back and reveals his face, and the last thing I remember before everything fades to black, is the look of pure panic and gut-wrenching torment in his bright green eyes when he scoops me up and into his arms.
“Darkness guide me. Gods save me.” His voice is like a healing tincture to my wounds as he whispers into the wind.
He’s so warm. His comforting energy shatters the iciness that wrapped around me before, making it feel wrong and unnatural and not okay. Somehow, his darkness seems to chase the other darkness away. His offers light. It’s not suffocating or commanding like the energy I felt on the bridge, it’s full of hope. Powerful and yet freeing. It’s so many things, things I can’t begin to explain or understand, but I don’t need to understand it to tell the difference between the two. My head throbs in pain and I let it fall onto his muscular chest, unable to hold it up any longer.
We’re back in the air in an instant, rushing up toward the puffs of white clouds far above. This can’t be real. He can’t be real. The sound of flapping wings thunders loudly around me as starlight shines brightly in my eyes, the clouds parting around us. Not even the closeness of the stars floating and twinkling around us tonight could outshine the beauty of him, whatever he may be. He is terrifyingly beautiful. Those haunting green eyes meet mine as he shifts me in his arms and opens his mouth to speak just as darkness pulls me under.
Chapter Four
Secrets and Lies
NORA
The sounds of beeping machines and hushed words awaken me from the deepest sleep I’ve had in a year. My throbbing head and fuzzy thoughts slip through as I force my eyes open and take in the room around me. The stark white walls and the scent of bleach scream sterilized hospital room. The white board with the name Nora Whitaker scribbled across it and the IV in my arm remind me that I’m the patient. I jolt upright, reaching my hand up to my head, feeling the thick gauze bandage wrapped all the way around it. I’m still alive. I’m miraculously alive. I might be for now, but Olivia is going to murder me for this later.
The scraping sound of a chair moving across the tiled floor is followed by my big sister rushing toward me then gripping my hand tightly. Ere sits in a chair right next to my bed, the warmth of his hand around mine bringing instant comfort, his relieved smile and soft golden eyes coming into focus. He leans forward and places a tender kiss to my forehead, brushing locks of hair away from my face.
“If you wanted me home early, all you had to do was ask.” His deep, silky voice murmurs in my ear, and I smile weakly as I pull myself to a sitting position in bed.
“You didn’t have to come all the way back here. I’m fine,” I tell him, swaying slightly as a spinning wave of dizziness hits me.
“Sure you are.” His long, dark hair brushes against his shoulders as he nods, scrunching his eyebrows and squeezing my hand tighter.
Katie finishes sending a text, smiles brightly at me, then comes over to stand next to Olivia.
I give her and my sister both a small smile because it’s all I have the energy to give right now. Olivia’s bright blue eyes have that glazed, glossy look that shows up after hours of being distraught and crying. I know that look all too well. I wear it often. Her dark brown hair is in a messy bun and her sweatshirt has mascara streaks on the sleeves from wiping her eyes. Pangs of guilt shoot through me seeing her this way.
“Hey sis.” I squeeze her hand tightly in mine. “Hey Katie.” Wavy white hair cascades over my shoulder as my best friend bends and hugs me tightly against her, squeezing just a little.
Her lips curve up as she pulls back to look at me, her striking icy eyes light and unbothered. “Hi, friend.”
Olivia sniffles, wiping her tears, her bottom lip trembling slightly before she speaks. “Hey sis. I was worried to death about you!” The way she glares at me and then smiles softly after nearly breaks my heart
She’s mad and I don’t blame her. Constantly having to worry about me spiraling into a crushing, inescapable depression has to be exhausting. Here I am, disappointing her again. God, I’m an awful sister to have.
