Page 44 of Beneath the Mountain Sky
Willow shudders again, this time clenching her eyes.
“You never did like the storms up here…”
She reopens her eyes and gives me a tight smile. “No. Something about them, the volatile power they possess, it just scares me.”
I trail my fingers over hers lightly, wanting so badly to twine them together. “Why?”
Her slender shoulders rise and fall, then she presses her free hand against her ribs with a wince. “I guess because it’s not something we can control, and I don’t like feeling out of it.”
“Like you do right now?”
She swings her legs toward me more fully, a tear trickling down her cheek. “Yes. How can I when everything is so fucked up?”
The way her voice breaks on those final words makes my hands itch to pull her into my arms, but I can’t do that.
I don’t trust myself.
And I won’t ever put her in that position.
Another sharp crack of thunder makes her wince even harder than tweaking her ribs did, and something clicks in my head. Something that’s been bouncing around in the back of my mind since I first saw her bare footprints pressed into the damp ground.
“There was a storm that night, before I found you in the river…”
She nods, swiping at her tears. “I know.” Her voice cracks. “And I wouldn’t have gone out in it if I had any other choice.”
Whatever happened up there, it wasn’t good.
It sent her running outside during a storm she was terrified of, with no shoes, improper clothing…
Pure wrath floods my veins, heating my blood and solidifying my resolve.
Tears continue to fall faster, and I finally can’t take it anymore.
I glide my hand up around her hip and tug her toward me gently, giving her every opportunity to resist or say no. But she accepts the invitation and slides into my lap, resting her head to the crook of my neck and snuggling tightly against me in the spot she fits so perfectly.
This.
This is what I’ve been craving, what I’ve been needing.
All of her pressed up along all of me.
The familiar feel of her in my arms again, her scent that somehow hasn’t changed over the last year invading my breath and giving me life in a way oxygen can’t.
All of it envelops me in the knowledge that she’s safe, as long as I have her here.
With me.
A little sigh falls from her lips, fluttering warmth against my neck. “What do you think happened to me?”
It’s a question I had hoped she wouldn’t ask because I don’t want to have to give her the answer—the one that’s been forming, even though I haven’t dared to voice it.
Because I don’t want it to be true.
It opens up a world of horrific possibilities.
Yet, I know Connor and Liam must be thinking the same thing, as well as Sheriff Briggs, given everything we’ve discovered.
But saying it to her when she’s still so shaken and fragile feels like dealing another blow she might not survive.
