home

search

Chapter 9

  The cave was cold. The air was still and damp, as if time itself had stopped inside. I heard Will pulling branches and snow over the entrance—quickly, methodically—before sinking down on his knees beside me. His breathing was still heavy. So was mine.

  We said nothing for a while. Just sat there in the darkness, side by side, with the chaos a faint echo far away.

  But it wasn't silent.

  The screams could still be heard, muffled by earth and stone—but still clear. Someone was calling out. Someone was screaming. Something was roaring.

  I pressed my hands over my ears.

  "I shouldn't have left them," I whispered. "They're fighting for me... and I'm just... running."

  Will shook his head. "No. You're alive. And that's the most important thing you can do right now."

  "How can you say that?" I looked at him. In the faint light filtering through the opening, I could just make out his face. Dirty. Worn. Honest.

  "Because if they take you," he said quietly, "it's all over."

  He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the rock wall. I noticed now how tired he looked. Not just in his body—in his eyes. In his whole being.

  "I saw them, Tracy. Their eyes. They knew. It was you they were after."

  "But why? What am I?"

  Will stayed silent for a long time.

  "I don't know everything," he finally said. "But I know you're... more than just human. There's something in you. Something that threatens their power. Maybe it's hope. Maybe it's something stronger."

  I breathed slowly, my gaze fixed on the small sliver of light seeping through the branches.

  "And you?" I whispered. "Why did you come back?"

  He looked at me. For a long time. So long that I had to meet his eyes.

  "Because I'd rather die with you than let them take you."

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  I didn't know what to say. His words lay between us like something sacred. He hadn't just saved me—he had chosen me. Despite everything. Despite us.

  It was Will. The same Will who could barely look at me without growling at first. The one who, just days ago, questioned why I was even here. Now he was sitting here, in the darkness, blood on his cheek, whispering something I could hardly dare to understand.

  "Will..." I began, but he shook his head.

  "You don't have to say anything," he said quietly. "I just wanted you to know."

  But I wanted to say something. It burned behind my ribs, begging to come out.

  "I thought you hated me," I finally said, my voice rough, like I hadn't used it in ages.

  He let out a humorless laugh. "I thought so too."

  I smiled faintly. "It's kind of our thing, isn't it? Believing things that aren't true."

  He turned his head toward me. I could feel his gaze, even in the darkness. "And what do you believe now?"

  I swallowed. "That I don't want to be without you."

  The air between us changed. The silence became something else—not cold, not empty—but charged. Alive.

  He slowly reached out his hand. Let it rest on mine.

  I left it there.

  "I thought I'd lost you," he said, his voice low. Raw.

  "I thought you'd never come back."

  "I couldn't stay away," he whispered. "Not when I knew they were after you."

  I leaned my head against his shoulder. Just barely. Just to feel that he was really there.

  He didn't move away.

  His voice came near my ear: "We'll get through this. I don't know how. But we will. Together."

  I closed my eyes.

  For the first time since I got here, I wasn't afraid of what tomorrow would bring.

  I sat still, my head lightly resting on his shoulder. My heart wasn't pounding anymore, but every beat felt sharper than ever.

  He hadn't pulled away.

  He stayed. Silent, warm, real.

  I didn't know how long we sat like that. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. Time felt strange inside the cave, trapped in the dark.

  Will carefully turned his head, and I felt his chin brush my hair.

  "I'm not cold anymore," I mumbled, mostly just to say something.

  "That's because I'm warm," he answered softly, a faint smile in his voice.

  I smiled too. A small, crooked smile that only he could draw out of me at that moment.

  "You better not get used to this," I said half-jokingly. "This doesn't mean I like you."

  He leaned his head back against the rock wall and exhaled. "Too late."

  I looked up at him—but he had his eyes closed. As if he didn't dare see my reaction. As if he already knew it.

  And maybe he did.

  I said nothing more. I let my hand slowly slide down over his, where it rested between us. My fingertips brushed his knuckles. Neither of us pulled away.

  Outside the cave, only the wind could be heard. No more screams. No more chaos.

  Just stillness.

  But it was temporary.

  And we both knew it.

  His hand remained under mine. The stillness was so fragile I barely dared to breathe, afraid I would shatter it. But I couldn't help but look up at him.

  He still had his eyes closed, but I saw his jaw clench slightly—as if he was fighting something. Or trying to hold it back.

  "Will," I whispered.

  He opened his eyes. Dark. Shining. Like the night outside, but softer beneath the surface.

  "I know you hate when I talk about feelings," I continued, my voice low, almost a whisper. "But I need to say this."

  He said nothing. He waited.

  "I don't know when it happened," I said. "But you... you mean something to me. And that scares me more than the curse. More than the forest. More than all of this."

  Will exhaled slowly. Then he turned fully toward me.

  "Tracy," he said, and his voice was something I'd never heard from him before. Soft. Low. Close.

  "When I thought I wouldn't make it back... there was only one thing I kept thinking about."

  "What?"

  "That I'd never touched you like this. Never been close. Never said..."

  He fell silent. But he didn't have to finish.

  He let his forehead rest lightly against mine. Just a breath between us. Nothing rushed. Nothing forced. Just the need to be close. To stay close.

  I closed my eyes. Let everything else fade away.

  His hand found my cheek, gently, as if he was afraid I would break. His thumb brushed along my jawline.

  "If we die tomorrow," he whispered, "I want you to know I chose you. Even before you knew who you were."

  I leaned in closer, feeling his breath against my skin. And when our lips met, it wasn't dramatic or grand.

  It was still.

  Like something finally falling into place in the world.

Recommended Popular Novels