Page 41 of Spellbound & Speechless
I admire it for a few moments before turning off the lights.
Chapter 15
Mac
Aspen’s whiningdrags me from sleep.
My pulse rushes. My head jerks, and I sit upright, looking at the source of the sound. “Aspen?”
Searching for her feels like an instinct. I cross the room, my shoulders slumping when I find her asleep. She must be fine, but she’s not. Another sound, this time a yelp, slips from past her lips. She twitches and squirms in her sleep, her brows furrowing.
“Aspen?” I brush my fingers against her shoulder.
She sits up so fast we nearly bump heads, her hand flying to her chest as she catches her breath. It’s as if she’s run miles. With her other hand, she pushes her eye mask to the top of her head, letting me see the wild look in her eyes. She reaches for something, and I give her my hand.
With the soft moonlight pouring onto us, touching her feels like the most natural thing to do.
She crushes my fingers. Our eyes lock.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. “Just a bad dream. I’m here. You’re not alone.”
“I—”She shakes her head. “I know.”
I’m comforting her as much as I am myself. Maybe I should just go back to bed. Instead, I linger, letting her squeeze the life out of my fingers. Who knew she was that strong?
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” She stares at a corner of the room. “It’s my mom. The same dream I always have.”
I understand those dreams better than she knows. I was still a kid when I had nightmares of my father being torn limb from limb. I didn’t see his death, thank the gods, but my brain filled in the blanks.
The corrupt witch visits my dreams, too. Her face. That ugly, rotten face. Each time I see her, it feels like I’m asleep again.
“What was she saying?” I murmur.
“Nothing.” Aspen lets out a tired, bitter laugh. “Mom never wants to talk to me. She sits there, looking like she has a secret, until I go crazy.”
I know the pain of losing a parent. The dreams, dreams so real you think they’re still with you, but they’re not. You wake up alone every time. This time, she’s not alone. She’s with me.
I squeeze her fingers, not letting her forget my presence. “It’s not her,” I say. “You know that. I’m sure your mom would love to talk to you.”
“I hope so.” She peeks at me from the corner of her eye. “Before she died… before she waskilled… I was busy. I forgot to answer her texts for weeks. By the time I remembered?—”
She shuts her eyes tight, and a tear rolls down her cheeks.
“Hey…” I wipe the tear away without thinking. “It’s all right. You didn’t mean to. Those things happen.”
She sniffles. For several moments, neither of us says anything.
“What happened to your mom? Was it a corrupt witch?”
“No. ” She shakes her head. “We think… it was a demon. She had all the signs of a demon attack. Her life was completely drained. All of her magic, all of her spirit, was gone. A corrupt witch can’t drain someone’s spirit.”
Just their magic.
I frown. “Not quite, no. You don’t want to investigate her death? We can probably find someone to do the job.”
She lifts a shoulder. “Honestly? I may be the only one who ran away from home, but in a way, I think we’re all running. Confirming makes it too real.”
