Page 13 of Sophie's Ruin
I knew she was right. Celeste hadn’t been wrong, either. The world was whispering things to me at that very moment, urging me not to leave this place. The voices in my head were becoming louder, more demanding. I gritted my teeth and shut them all out. They died just as quickly as they had appeared.
Still, I couldn’t ignore the message the world was trying to send, even though it went against everything I felt in my heart. There was a pull, a tug in my blood, in my very bones that urged me to go to Henry, to find him. The pull that I knew wouldn’t abate until I held him in my arms again, breathing the same air as he, listening to his heartbeat. Strong and relentless. I recalled the steadfast rhythm I would recognize anywhere as if it were my own. Henry was strong and relentless. Unyielding. He would not break. I had to believe that, if only to keep my sanity. He would survive, because as much as I wanted to live for him, he wanted to live for me,withme, in this brave new world.
“You’re right. The odds are not in our favor,” I finally conceded.
Isabelle’s grip on the doorframe was still tight, but the tense muscles of her neck and shoulders relaxed just a fraction.
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
“We’re going to even the odds.” I turned to Celeste. “I want to learn my magic.”
The witch’s shrewd eyes narrowed as she appraised me as if measuring my worth. I stood unmoving, waiting for her perusalto be over. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she must have found it because she gave a curt nod.
“Very well. I will teach you. We will begin soon, but right now, the dawn is near. We all should go inside and get some rest.”
She was right yet again—I could feel the sunrise creeping up on these woods. A pins-and-needles sensation pricked my skin and drove me to find shelter from the first rays of the new day.
Isabelle must have felt it, too, because she let go of the doorframe and retreated back inside the house, leaving a trail of blood in her wake from the deep lacerations covering her body. I looked down at myself, realizing for the first time that my tunic and pants were also covered in her blood from when we’d held on to each other.
“Is she going to be okay?” Waylon asked, drawing my attention to him.
“Yes, but she needs to feed more,” I replied.
I hoped that Wren was still up to the task of giving Isabelle what she so desperately needed. I could hear his labored breathing coming from inside the house. He hadn’t followed Isabelle out on the porch earlier, staying behind to recover from her feeding on him.
“And you?” Waylon asked, his voice strained.
The smell of his fear returned, strong and overwhelming.
“I don’t need to feed if that’s what you’re asking. I’d fed before the Dark Witches attacked, and I can go days without needing blood unless I’m injured.”
A breath of relief left Waylon as his taut features smoothed out just a little. He reached up and clasped the back of his neck with a heavy sigh.
“I’m sorry about Henry,” he said low.
He didn’t add that everything would be okay, and I found myself wishing that he would. This moment was one of thoserare instances I wanted to be lied to, if only to make the situation more bearable.
“I’m sorry you can’t go back and warn the others,” I told him, my voice hoarse.
I’d meant what I’d said. I couldn’t go to Henry, and Waylon couldn’t go to his people. Staying here instead of rushing back to the Empire was torture, and we were both suffering.
Waylon nodded but didn’t say anything else before he walked inside the house. Celeste followed him in, leaving me alone on the porch. With a rough exhale, I turned around and faced the woods, lifting my eyes to the night sky.
“I will come for you,” I said to Henry, hoping he could hear me somehow across the distance that lay between us.
The dream I’d had right before I’d awakened tonight resurfaced in my mind. In it, a dark abyss of pain and suffering separated Henry and me. Little had I known the dream had been prophetic. Tears welled, and I blinked rapidly to keep them at bay. Inhaling deeply, I uttered the three words I should have said to Henry when I’d had the chance. After all, I’d felt them in my heart for a while now, even if I hadn’t realized it. I hoped the air would carry the words to Henry until I could say them to his face.
“Have hope,” I added.
I wasn’t sure if the last two words were meant for him or me.
They were for both of us, I decided, as I turned around and walked inside the cottage.
HENRY
Sophie’s voice beckoned me to the surface of the obsidian waters I was submerged in. Slowly, I swam toward it, anticipation building the higher I rose in this bottomless ocean of pain. I knew she shouldn’t be here. I had sent her away so shecould be safe. Why had she returned? It didn’t matter. I knew she shouldn’t be here, but a small, selfish part of me rejoiced that she had come back. I couldn’t wait to see her face and breathe her in, if only for the last time.
Heart-wrenching regret surged, threatening to suffocate me before I made it to the surface. I had just found Sophie. My life was finally complete with her by my side, but soon, it might get cut short just as I had truly started living. My eyes pricked with tears, but still, I pushed through, rising higher and higher until I broke through the glossy black surface.
