Everyone assumed, like Zach had, that she must have done something wrong. That she had done something awful. And what could a teenage girl do that would warp her Shadows? How bad must it have been?
Teenagers could find anything to bully a person for, however small. Emma’s flaw was massive and visible to everyone except her. They had tortured her relentlessly and the teachers had done nothing to save her. If anything, they made it worse. Their own discomfort was blatantly obvious to everyone, their lack of censure tacit approval to the children in her class.
All those long, lonely hours, holding in her tears and pretending not to hear the whispers. Tripping on Shadow ropes she couldn’t see. Finding herself trapped in Shadow nets that closed around her while she screamed, unable to see them or even feel them. All those heartbreaking, soul-sapping moments of knowing she didn’t belong but had nowhere else to go. She swallowed down the tears that fought to rise. All the anguish of being the person no one could ever, would ever, want, came rushing back to her in a catastrophic flood of remembered grief.
The urge to run welled up and she pushed herself to stand, thinking only of escape. But then he was there. He was too big to outrun. Too strong to escape. And rather than sneering down at her with disgust and horror, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.
The tears came then. She couldn’t stop them even as she struggled against him. She didn’t want this pain. She didn’t want to see the look on her face. She wanted to be alone. Didn’t she?
Even with her thoughts swirling and churning, his hands on her skin calmed her. Her broken abilities settled and focused, and the world stabilized.
When last had anyone held her? When had anyone wanted her to stay? She was so tired of fighting the world by herself. And now Zach was holding her and she couldn’t bring herself to force him to let her go. Another sob escaped and she stopped trying to escape. Instead, she hung in his arms, letting the wind dry her tears.
Zach softened his grip, setting her down on the cooling sand, but he didn’t step away. He was big and warm, his skin touching hers. “Please, Emma. Please, just… I can’t bear this.” The admission seemed torn out of him. His voice broke against her ear, filled with gravel and pain. His hands were hot against her cold skin and the fluttering in her belly rose to a storm, fiercer than the wind that rose around them.
“If you tell me to let go, I will,” he whispered. “I’ll walk away if that’s what you want. But I’m begging you… not like this.”
Emma dragged in a shaking breath. She had no idea what to say. She was silent for long enough that he slowly pulled his hands away, leaving her standing alone as the wind threw stinging flurries of sand against her legs.
“I’m sorry for everything I did,” Zach said. “I saw your Shadows and I jumped to completely the wrong conclusion. But it didn’t stop me from seeingyou,Emma. I see the life you’ve made, the beauty that you put into the world. Sometimes you smile and I see the girl I used to know. But mostly, more than all of that, I see someone strong and clever and kind. Someone I don’t deserve, but someone I wish I knew.”
He swallowed heavily. “I’m not good at talking about how I feel. But I know that if you leave me now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
The dark sea spread out in front of her, beautiful and wild. The sun had set and the moon was rising over the water, its silver light spread over the damp sand. It should have been cold, but all she could feel was Zach. He was close enough to shield her from the wind, his body angled as if to protect her.
The weight of his sincerity was almost palpable. He looked at her like he had that morning. As if he truly did see her, all of her, and he wanted to be with her anyway. She had been through enough to know exactly how much that was worth.
Could she do what he was asking? Could she look past the mistakes he’d made? Could she take the risk and maybe find her friend once more?
“Why did you stay, Zach?” she asked softly. “Why aren’t you already halfway back to Wales?”
“Because I couldn't leave you.” His words were low, resonating with sincerity. And she believed him.
“Will you give me another chance?” Zach asked. “I know I did everything wrong. But I won’t make that mistake again. I’ll never lie to you again, I promise.”
How many times in her life had she wished for just one more moment? One more chance? Could she give that to him—to the boy she’d missed like he was a lost limb? To the man with sincerity ringing through his voice whose dark eyes were focused on her so intently? The man she had wanted so desperately. Could she be brave, one more time?
“Yes,” she whispered. “I can give you another chance.”
Zach closed his eyes for a moment, relief etched across his face. “Thank you.”
He lifted a hand to cup her cheek and, for the first time, she almost believed she could see Shadows swirling out around them. A riot of black and charcoal spun through with ocean-blue circled a lighter gray mist with hints of dark mulberry.
The Shadows spread out over the dark beach around them and she wished she could reach out toward them. But then she blinked, and they were gone.
ChapterTen
James twistedin the tangled sheets, sweating and disoriented. The bed was too small. The room was hot and suffocating. He threw off the covers and then it was too cold. He shivered, still locked in confusing darkness as the world tilted.
You are calm. All is well.He could almost hear the voice in the darkness. The voice from all his worst dreams. But he didn’t feel calm… or well. He felt as if he’d been skating the rim of a volcano, stinking and sulfurous, only one small step from death.
James fought his way out of the restraining covers, smothering the scream that bubbled up in his chest as he forced his eyes open and pushed his way out of the bed. He was alive. He was in Bryn’s cottage. And the voice was only a nightmare.
Shadows roiled around him and he held out his hands to call them. It had always been so easy, a flick of his fingers, a twist of his wrist and they poured together, smooth and focused. But now, everything was off. The Shadows were still there, and they responded—eventually—but they were sluggish and disconnected. Tattered and broken. Like him.
He dragged his fingers down through the darkness, forcing the Shadows under his control, pressing them into shuriken, the throwing stars that he had always loved. Kay had her daggers, Zach had his sword, but James had his shuriken. Gleaming and smooth and vicious in their beauty.
But now they were lopsided and tarnished, just like all the other Shadows he’d tried to draw. When the blood Shadows had eaten away at his internal Shadows—the essence of what made himJames—they’d also corrupted his ability to shape and use Shadows more generally.
