Page 53 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

Archer nodded slowly. “It was a tragedy. They died right after this dance,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness. “A deer ran into the passenger side of their car, causing it to lose control and crash into a tree. They never made it to their wedding.”

I turned my gaze back to the couple, who had started dancing slowly in the middle of the path. My heart ached. The bride rested her head on his chest, smiling as though he was the only man in the world, while he held her as if she was his entire universe.

As I watched them, I could almost hear faint, soft music carried by the breeze through the falling leaves around them.

“Life can be so cruel,” I murmured, my voice breaking at the thought of their tragedy. To imagine loving someone so deeply, desiring to spend one’s life with them, only for it to be ripped away moments before it began—it was unbearable. If only they hadn’t danced, or if they’d been on time, the deer might not have been there.

A tear slid down my cheek, and I felt a hand on my chin, gently turning my face towards him. His thumb caught another tear before it could fall completely. Turning from the dancing couple, I looked up at Archer, seeing something I never thought I’d see, a crack in his mask.

His eyebrows furrowed in sadness. "Some spirits create an illusion of the situation they cling to, rather than wandering theearth caught behind the veil. We call it a time loop.” His eyes returned to the couple, and I followed his gaze. “We think the veil holds only souls who still feel attachment to this world. Perhaps a person. Naomi once described it as feeling similar to grief.”

“They’re grieving the life they could have had,” I concluded. Archer nodded without looking at me.

“I’ve never met a spirit who died of old age,” he agreed, his hand retreating from my cheek. Emptiness lingered in its wake, making me crave something to fill it. But I couldn’t have that.

“How did you know they were spirits?” Archer asked, changing the subject. I stiffened, looking at them more closely.

I shrugged my shoulders. “They felt surreal, I don’t know how to describe it.”

“No, that’s a good start. You’re right, spirits don’t feel like you and I do. Humans feel…”

“Strong-minded, like rage, like… a hard rock.”

Archer chuckled but nodded. “Couldn’t have explained it better. And spirits feel…”

“Lost, free. They’re so magnificent that just their appearance, their movement, makes me want to be drawn to them.”

Well, that was only the case when they weren’t covered in blood or burned to the point of death.

The memory made bile rise in my throat. I still dreamed of the woman with the burned flesh.

Archer turned me gently so I was facing the couple, still dancing so gracefully their movements made me want to close in on them, to join them in their dance.

“Watch them closely. Do you see the veil dancing with them? It’s almost completely transparent, but if you’re aware of what they are and concentrate on their every movement, it reveals itself to you.”

I did as Archer said, blocking out the desire to dance with the wind. The bride and groom moved with grace, but their movements were too smooth to feel natural… and then I saw it. Like mist clinging to their bodies, it moved with them, claiming them as belonging to death, not the living.

“Spirits feel like desire. That’s how you know they’re not human. Humans feel dark, while spirits feel like light itself. Bloody hell, I wish I could tell you why that is, but we’ve only got theories so far,” he cursed, his hard façade almost softening in this moment. It was nice that he was talking to me like an equal.

The couple materialised into thin air, and they were gone.

I turned to Archer, frowning in question. “How did I not know Gwyn was a spirit?” Sadness pricked my heart at the thought of the fourteen-year-old girl who felt so lonely she only wanted someone by her side. I knew it didn’t excuse what she tried to do to me, but I still felt bad for her, wishing there was something I could do to make her feel less lonely that didn’t include me joining her in death.

“Gwyneth is… she’s filled with sorrow over the loss of her life. She was so young when her flame was extinguished. She wants company more than anything, in life as in death. Younger spirits can easily slip through the veil straight to your heart. That’s what she did to you. She made you her friend, and it made you feel safe, comforted, didn’t it?” he asked. I had thought this question might be an accusation of how naïve I was, but his voice wasn’t angry, he almost sounded understanding.

So I was honest and nodded. “I don’t think I’ve trusted someone this much in years, but she used my trust against me.”

Sometimes, I question who I really am.

If I’m silent, I’m too quiet.

If I talk, I’m too noisy.

I was supposed to leave my trust issues behind me, but when I felt safe in someone’s arms, I was just a naïve little girl.

But Archer didn’t blame me. It was odd. Because since childhood, everything was somehow my fault. But then he said these words, the exact words I had never heard before, “It wasn’t your fault.” I felt some kind of relief. “It was Samhain, and the veil was the thinnest it had been all year. The problem with our kind is that we can’t risk letting spirits enjoy the feeling of someone believing in them, because belief is one of the strongest abilities that exist in our world. We can’t raise the dead, but we can make them reach for us through the veil when the time is right.”

Everything suddenly became so clear. “That’s why she could touch me on Samhain. That’s why I lost my necklace.” Instinctively, I reached for the crystal around my neck and remembered the piercing pain it had caused when Gwyn had ripped it off that night. “I gave her the power over me, and not even the tourmaline was strong enough to protect me.”

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