Page 61 of Woven Souls

My stomach roils.

I brace one hand against the wall and lean forward, struggling to breathe deeply. My sacrifices can’t have been for nothing. I can’t begin to think I wasused. And what of Viktor and Kwil? They too made sacrifices to be here.

My hand slides down the wall as I kneel down onto one knee.

I don’t know how long I remain like this. When the daylight begins to wane, I still don’t move. I’m so lost in thought I don’t hear the door open. Or shut. I don’t even realize I have company until Willow sits down beside me, facing my direction, and leans her back up against the wall.

I can’t meet her gaze. I tell myself it’s because a small part of me is bitter towards her, and that’s not fair. It wasn’t Willow who dropped this bombshell on me. It was her father. But I know that’s not the real reason I can’t look into her eyes.

Willow says nothing.

Time ticks by in silence. She doesn’t sigh in annoyance, reach out to comfort me, or even fidget. Willow remains still and quiet. Strangely enough, just her presence is a balm to the frantic, panicky weight suffocating me. I was sure being alone would have been more preferable, but I find it’s the opposite. It takes time for me to gather up my thoughts, emotions, and the nerves, but Willow gives it to me, and I appreciate it.

My hand drops away from the wall, and I plant myself on the floor right where I was kneeling. I stretch my legs out in front of me and use my hands to brace myself upright.

Finally, I look up to meet her gaze.

But she’s not looking at me. Her eyes are trained on the window. She must feel my attention on her because she turns her head to face me. A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. I expect her to ask if I’m alright.

The question never comes.

Instead, her hand lands on my leg, and she looks away again, back towards the window. Willow, quiet? Something is clearly bothering her. My gaze lands on her hand on my leg. There are scratches from her struggle and a few bruises forming on the back of it.

“Are you okay?” The question tumbles from my lips.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

I don’t for one minute think that’s true. Cautiously, I reach forward and take the hand that’s resting on me. She flinches. Her head whips around, and her eyes lock on to the contact. Neither one of us says anything. We both just stare at our hands.

When Willow looks up, I have her full attention.

“You got a lot thrown at you this morning. Have you sorted through all of it yet?”

I shiver. Is one of Willow’s abilities sensing the disturbance in a soul? I wouldn’t be surprised if she could.

“As best I can,” I admit truthfully.

Her eyes fall to our hands again. Is she bothered by it? As if he can hear my thoughts, her eyes meet mine once more, and she gives me a half smile.

“This is weird right?”

Thisis what’s weird to her? I chuckle. “What’s weird about this?”

Willow’s brows scrunch together as she thinks about my question. Her other hand comes up and absentmindedly tucks a rogue curl behind her ear. The rare glimpse into this side of Willow, the quiet, observant, and uncertain Willow, eases some of the tension in me. Have the others seen this side of her?

“Well, this is the same hand that stabbed me.”

I flinch.

I hadn’t thought about it like that, but now I can see how this would be uncomfortable for her. I move to let go, but she holds on to it so I can’t pull away. Our eyes meet, and she gives me another short-lived smile.

“If I had to pick, I’d prefer this type of contact any day.” Her thumb caressed the back of my hand. “Want to talk about anything, or do you want to go downstairs? Dinner should be ready soon.”

Dinner? I’ve been up here all day… I suck in a shaky breath.

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Well… Let’s figure out what’s overwhelming you the most, deconstruct that, and once we do, everything else could possibly feel inconsequential.”

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