Page 52 of Whispers of Ruin
CHAPTERFORTY-NINE
Brokk’s foreheadfurrowed as he looked around the clearing.
“You can’t see it anymore, but it’s there, ingrained into the soul of the earth.”
When his gaze came back to hers, understanding and sympathy shone within it. “Do the other witches know this?”
“They might, but I haven’t asked them about it. We each feel and experience things differently.”
“Of course.”
“I feel those who lived here should be acknowledged and mourned; the other witches might not feel the same.”
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he rested his hand on top of hers, and some of her burden eased. She’d never experienced anything like it, as his touch was like an instant balm to her soul.
She stared at his hand, so big and strong with its marks from the many battles he’d waged and the work with his sword today. His hands had killed many immortals throughout his lifetime, but they offered her comfort and had touched her with such gentle reverence last night.
“The suffering of others shouldn’t be your burden,” he said.
“Many carry burdens they shouldn’t, but they face the world every day and continue with their lives because they must. It makes some stronger while breaking others.”
“And what will this burden do for you?”
“It will teach me not to let down my guard and remind me that I must have sympathy for the plight of others…. far too many don’t possess that anymore. Their ability for empathy has been stripped away by wars and fear. The Lord and so many others like him have unleashed their terror on the realms for far too long. This place is a reminder to be ever vigilant against becoming indifferent to suffering.”
“I think that’s a reminder we all need from time to time.”
Her fingers turned over and clasped his even as she told herself to let him go. Talking with him again felt so right; it was so easy, and he was her friend.
But it was more than that, and she knew it. Guilt lingered over last night, but it had changed her. It was an experience she would never forget, and while she tried to deny she wanted it again, she couldn’t hide from the truth.
She did want him again…badly.
As a dark fae, what happened between them last night probably hadn’t registered much on Brokk’s radar, but it was life-changing for her. It had awakened her, but though she felt more alive than she had in centuries, she couldn’t repeat last night… with anyone.
She squeezed his hand before removing hers from Brokk’s. With a sense of serenity she didn’t feel, she clasped her hands together and placed them in her lap.
“You believe last night was a mistake,” he stated.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you think it.”
Her eyes darted away from him. “No, I don’t, but I once pledged myself to marry a man who I love deeply.”
“And he died.”
She couldn’t stop herself from flinching at his words. “He was murdered.”
“Yes, but you still live.”
“I know that. I’ve done so for centuries now.”
“No, you haven’t, but you already know that. You locked yourself away and only emerged from the crone realm because of Lexi and the hope she promised for all the realms. You’d still be there otherwise.”
She almost protested his words, but she wasn’t a liar. If Brokk and Sahira hadn’t come to the crone realm in search of the harrow stone, she wouldn’t be here. She’d still be in the crone realm, locked away, and simply existing in a sheltered world instead of living in the realms.
“I will always love Fabian,” she stated.
