Page 141 of Reign of Light
I’m just numb. Numb and angry with myself that I didn’t remember such a crucial detail to the bargain I so willingly made with Danwlin once before. Maybe if I had, we never would have gone back to the fountain, or never would have let Edmond sweep us away after admitting that we were happy without having the second chance we thought we wanted.
But that was not how this night was to be, and nothing will change where we are and the choice that now sits before us. Though everything feels out of my control, I hold on tightly to the one thing I can.
“I want to do this together,” I whisper.
“Anything you want, my queen.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips, and I feel a crippling pang in my chest. The sobs rear up again, but I squash them down, doing what Weston commanded me, and focusingon my breath. His arms loosen and he takes my hands, helping me to my feet as he stands beside me, waiting to make sure I no longer feel ready to collapse under the weight of this night.
We walk slowly together, hand in hand, across the chamber and climb the steps up onto the dais. Light still illuminates the empty basin, and I reach inside, grabbing the hilt of my dagger before turning toward Weston. He lifts his hand, holding his open palm out to me, and I take a deep breath before wrapping my fingers around his. The tip of my blade trails along his skin, and blood blooms in its wake; the blood that will seal the promise to the island and upend our lives, all to save my mother’s.
When it is my turn, I don’t hesitate, dragging the same tip of the blade across my palm and watching a similar deep crimson puddle form.
“Ready?” I whisper and look up at him.
He nods, refusing to look away as he extends his hand over the basin. I mimic the motion and in the same breath, our hands turn over, and the blood falls to the stone.
From the corner of my eye, I see the droplets disappear, but I can’t look away from Weston. Warmth coats my palm, and when he takes my hand in his, I finally pull my eyes away to see both our wounds knitting together with a flash of a golden glow, sealing the deal the same way it is sealing our fate.
The voice booms around us, and he sidles closer, his side pressed into mine as we wait for the next direction.
To those deemed worthy, healing waters will flow,
For what’s held in all hearts, the isle does know.
Don’t lose hope, as has been discussed.
In the magic of Dawnlin,you must trust.
A small glass vial appears before each of us, and my hand shakes as I reach down to pick it up. The glass is cool against my fingertips, and I watch as Weston does the same, but nods toward me.
“You first.”
The breath stills in my chest as I drag my eyes to the spout. I begged for it to flow before, pleaded with Dawnlin to find me worthy, but this time, I don’t know what I want. If it doesn’t, I lose my mother, but if it does, I lose the one true love in my life, the man who chose me, and sacrificed for me. Who saved my life and protected me. The man who would lay down his own, in death and in the midst of this twisted magic, for me, so that I don’t have to suffer.
The glass jostles in my trembling hands as I lift the vial to the spout. This is it. This is the moment that decides my fate. Blood rushes in my ears, the roaring blocking out everything except the feel of Weston pressed into me, and the hole in the stone wall. My chest burns from holding my breath as I wait for something or nothing to happen. Just when I think that, once again, I am unworthy, that all the worries that just broke me and the tears shed were unnecessary, my body feels like it has been crushed once again.
Because I’m worthy, and the waters flow.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The press of Weston’s hand into the small of my back is the only way I know that all of this is real. It isn’t a nightmare that I can’t pull myself out of, like the ones that plagued me until I spent every night sleeping beside him. He guides me through the stone archway, but I can barely focus on the fact that we are leaving the mountain. Everything surrounding us as we traipse through the tunnel is a blur, because I can only see the two matching vials I hold, one in each hand.
His and mine.
It was no longer a question or a worry. After all this time, both of us were deemed worthy by Dawnlin to save my mother.
But how can we possibly choose who will be the one to do it?
I can’t pull my eyes away from the sparkling liquid in the corked glass that swirls and jostles with every dragging step I take. My boot catches on a rock jutting from the ground, and I barely flinch as I stumble forward, because Weston is right there to catch me. He always is, in more ways than just catching me before I literally hit the ground.
His arm wraps around my back, his hand settling on my hip as he supports me, holding me upright as my body literally bears the crushing weight of this decision. The magic of the portal surrounds me, pressing into my skin as we step through, and it is only then that I look up, blinking into the bright light of the pink and orange sunset that fills the sky.
But we aren’t on the beach. My boots don’t sink into the sand as I step forward toward the crash of the waves. Instead, they are planted on the stone surface of the platform, the same place we had entered, as the twin waterfalls cascade on either side of us. Edmond stands a few paces away, his hands clasped in front of him, clearly waiting for our return.
Everything feels hollow as I lean into Weston for support when he urges me forward toward his father. My feet move on their own, pulling me away from the mountain, back toward my kingdom where the reality of this decision will be too much to bear. My steps falter, the soles of my boots slipping on the slick surface beneath them, and I almost fall to my knees.
Part of me doesn’t care. Part of me wants to feel the pain of my knees hitting the ground. It would let me feel something, anything other than this hollow ache and churning stomach that have been with me since the moment I could breathe again in Weston’s arms. But as he always does, he doesn’t let me fall. Weston catches me, then bends to hook his arm under the crook of my knees before hoisting me into his arms.
Shoulders caving in on themselves, I immediately shrug against him, pressing my cheek into his chest before my muscles surrender and I fall like a dead weight. A single tear trails down my cheek, and I coil my arms into my abdomen, clutching the vials as tight as the exhaustion will let me.
