He closes his eyes, and I can’t help but wonder—is it relief he feels, knowing this? Or disappointment? Callie Lotus carries her bitterness over what she perceives as a poorly dealt hand that Fate passed to her on her sleeve for all to see. But then, she’s grown up with Magicals, has watched Magic practiced by everyone she knows, respects, and loves. Will never had that. Will’s only ever known life as a non.
Finally—“We need to get Chloe home.”
Which reminds me, I have work to do when we get there. I blew a huge hole in that house this afternoon. The skies above know the poor place is probably drowning in snow by now.
When we leave, it’s done in silence. But while Will storms ahead of us, his fury allowing him to overcome his pain, I reach out and grab Cameron’s hand and squeeze it.
And he squeezes mine back.
Constant, brutal winds have ensured that the plateau I now find myself precariously standing upon remains barren of anything but scraped, raw rock. Even still, I inch closer to the uneven edge before me so I can peer out into the yawning expanse of canyons, rivers, and creeping tendrils of darkness that stretch as far as the eye can see.
Something wails from somewhere within the alcoves in the distance, something mournful and yet angry all at once. Unease skitters across my skin; the wind does me no favors by refusing to blow it away.
I shade my eyes from sharp rays of dying, orange sunlight and peer down, scanning row after row of jagged, twisting tunnels. Nothing. Another round of keening sounds, closer still, followed by such a gust of wind that I’m knocked down to my knees. I reach out to grip the surprisingly soft edge I’d just been standing on, only to find chunks of rock crumbling beneath my palms.
“It seems impossible.” I hold up handfuls of bleak, gray shards of rocks and watch the remnants float away in the wind. “And truth be told, I’m terrified.”
Jonah simply stares at me in return, dark hair cutting across his face, as he approaches the edge.
A new wail drifts up to the plateau, circling us before floating higher and away.
The tips of Jonah’s toes dangle over the edge as he surveys what I’ve been studying for hours. “You shouldn’t stand too close.” I brush my hands on my jeans. “The wind’s pretty strong up here.”
This sigh that escapes him drifts directly into the wind.
He never understands. “You can’t blame me for caring. For wanting to keep you safe.”
Another sigh, but at least he backs away from the edge. But then, just as I’m about to push myself up, he reclaims the steps he’d lost in a run and then flings himself right off the plateau.
I scream his name, but my only answer is another round of keening that transitions into full-fledge shrieking. Back-to-back gusts of wind drown my words out while driving fear even deeper into my pitted bones. Just as I’m about to jump myself, a hand grabs my arm.
I whirl around to find Kellan. Dirt smudges his face and arms, exhaustion nearly drips off his body.
Thank gods. “Jonah—”
Kellan holds up his index finger and presses it against his mouth. The look in his eyes is so sad that my heart crumbles just as easily as the rocks below me.
He lets my arm go. Before I can even complete a full blink, he follows his brother’s lead right over the edge.
The screaming in the wind is deafening.
I wake up from my dream, shaking so hard that I break down sobbing in the comfort of my bed and darkness.
Will didn’t speak to his father the rest of the night. Other than to ask me how I was doing and whether I was hungry—his need to take care of loved ones via cooking overriding even his rage—we didn’t speak that much, either. Once the house was repaired and put to order, he went into his bedroom and hasn’t reemerged.
“Give him time, hen,” Cameron says to me as we drink coffee in the early morning. “Will’s always been the sort who is slow to change. But he’s a good boy, and a logical one despite his hotheaded Scottish heritage. He’ll come around.”
I find it ridiculously endearing that Cameron strives to comfort me when I’ve been trying to do the same for him for the last half hour. “I never thanked you last night for saving me at the hospital,” I tell him. “And for everything else you’ve done for me.”
He ruffles my hair. “I would do it again—no questions asked.” His dark eyes flick towards the hallway. “You know, Molly would’ve adored you. She loved her son—was the fiercest mama bear you could imagine—but part of her wanted a girl, too. We thought about adopting at one point, but . . .” His smile turns bittersweet. “But life goes the way it does, and the next thing you know, you’re saying goodbye, and there’s a box full of unfulfilled plans.” He sips his coffee. “It’s truly serendipitous you came about just when we needed you most. When I deduced who you were, I figured Molly sent you to us.”