Page 4 of Woven Souls

Although I’m torn between frustration and amusement, a harsh chuckle forces itself past my lips. “You are the worst liar I have ever met. Your face practically told me your plan.” Willow’s facial expressions speak for her most of the time.

She sighs. “What would you do in my situation, Theo?”

Escape. The answer is so obvious that I know the question is rhetorical. Hating that this is Willow’s first thought too, I try to approach this differently. I reach over and remove the cloth around her wrists in a single tug.

“Look at where running got you this time.” I grab her chin and tilt her face to look at me. “While I may have some reservations about your ability to use Death Magic, you’ve done nothing to make me believe you’re capable of misusing it. You’re not a threat to this world. In fact, this world is better with you in it.”

My words take her by surprise. Willow’s brows fly halfway up her forehead before exhaustion brings them back down. Slowly, my thumb slides across her bottom lip.

“Give me, and the others, a chance to fix this, please.” Smiling weakly, I confess, “I’ve missed you, Willow. I’ve missed your smile, your laughter, your fearlessness, and strangely enough—” I grimace. “I miss how you force me to readjust the way I view the world. Let me show you that I can be a better person than I have been.”

Pulling out of my grasp, Willow searches my face for some sign I could be lying or placating her. I’m not sure how much she can see due to the dim lighting or how much she can process when she’s clearly still drugged up.

“Youmissedme?” She sighs, her body relaxing against mine again. “This doesn’t sound like the Theo I know. I was waiting for you to start peppering me with questions about what I am, not trying to flatter me.”

My guilty conscience won’t allow me to interrogate Willow. Thankfully, I seem to have kept a tiny thread of sanity intact.

Shaking my head slowly, I admit, “Up until just recently, it was my job as a Ghost to protect this world from the things that don’t belong in it. Your ability to wield Death Magic is certainly concerning, and maybe I would be worried if I didn’t know you better. But our situation has changed, and I’ve found myself no longer required to uphold the duties and vows I took when I first joined the Brotherhood. While, I admit, I amverycurious about your secret, I don’t believe I’m in a position to ask you about it and expect you to trust me with the answer.”

Willow’s eyes widen fractionally.

“What do you mean your ‘situation has changed?’”

Swallowing back the bitter taste of failure, I force the words out, “Jaydon and his men must have finally reached the Elders in Everlast. I thought I had more time to figure out a way to circumvent this but… alas, I could not. We have officially been deemed Fallen by our Brotherhood. Our time as Ghosts has come to an end.”

Saying the words out loud… It’s like I’m getting the news all over again. My throat works down the emotions stuck in it. My heart feels brittle and threatens to crack under the weight of the condemnation.

Willow regards me quietly as she processes this information. Unable to meet those glassed-over eyes any longer, I look away from her and stare across the empty basement. My jaw works as I think about all the pain my situation is causing those closest to me. A good Ghost would go and face their sentencing right away. Maybe the three of us could consider an honorable death if it didn't mean bringing Willow and Jonah down with us. But we can't do that to them.

"I'm sorry."

Willow’s words jerk me out of my melancholy. I turn to look at her, finding her eyes still lingering on my face.

"What on earth are you apologizing for?"

"That you lost your title." Willow’s voice is softer now. "I'd have to be an idiot not to see how important being a Ghost was to you and the others."

A harsh bark of laughter bursts past my lips.

“You’reapologizing tome…” My free hand wipes down my face while I pull Willow closer into me. My heart does this weird thing, trying to turn itself inside out. “Willow… You have been nothing but good to the three of us, and you’ve ended up here because of it. Yet, you’re apologizing to me…”

With a sudden bout of clarity, I realize what I have to do.

“Come on. Let me take you upstairs.” I get to my feet, only so I can crouch down to scoop Willow up. She cringes away from me.

“I didn’t promise not to make a scene.” She pauses. “And what about Jonah?”

“I’ll have to trust you. As for Jonah, he’ll be brought up too. This was a stupid idea.” This time when I gather her into my arms, she doesn’t cringe away from me. Willow’s arms reach up and wrap themselves around my neck.

Willow’s silent as I carry her up the basement stairs, through the house, and up to the next floor. Viktor is leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom door where Kwil’s resting. He straightens as we approach.

“Go get Jonah,” I order as I walk by him.

I carry Willow into a guest bedroom and place her on the bed. When I move to straighten, her hand grips my shirt as she struggles to sit up.

“Please… don’t leave. Your touch…”

I understand immediately. With Willow in the house, the ache that distance caused has lessened significantly, but holding her removes it completely. If she feels the same way, lying here in bed with her is the least I can do to make her feel better. Kicking off my shoes, I join her on the bed and sit beside her.

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