Bring Me Your Midnight(64)

I don’t think, I don’t hesitate, I don’t fear.

I run.

“Tana!” my mother calls behind me, her voice weak from the rush but urgent. Scared. “Tana!”

I don’t look back. Wolfe is no longer facing the shore; he’s getting ready to dive back into his current. He didn’t see me in time.

“Wolfe!” I scream his name as my mother screams mine, chasing after me. “Wolfe!” I scream again.

He stops and turns, his mouth falling open and his eyes growing wide.

I sprint into the water, pushing through it as fast as I can, trying to ignore the sounds of my mother behind me. I can’t turn around because if I do, I might shatter.

I push off the ocean floor and launch myself toward Wolfe. He catches me in his arms, and I wrap myself around him, holding on tight, holding on for my life.

“Go!” I shout.

My father is in the water now, swimming toward us, thrashing through the waves even though he’s weak from the rush—too weak, and yet he expends every last ounce of what he has left coming after me. He slows, unable to keep up, bobbing helplessly several yards away. I hold on to Wolfe tightly to keep myself from swimming to my father, but I watch him the whole time, and I know this image will stick with me for the rest of my life, no matter how hard I try to erase it. He shouts my name and begins to choke, the sound tearing me in two. My mother finally reaches him and pulls him toward the shore. Tears roll down my face as I tuck my head into Wolfe’s shoulder and take a deep breath. He dives into the current, and the image of my father is replaced by dark water rolling over my head, erasing all the light.

Erasing all the love.

Erasing everything.

Wolfe’s arms are wrapped tightly around me as we’re swept out to sea, but I’m not sure it’s the ocean we’re in anymore. Maybe it’s a buildup of tears and anguish so vast and wide I’ll never find my way back out.

Mom calling my name.

Dad thrashing in the water.

I will never recover from this, not if I live a hundred years, a thousand lifetimes. This moment will scar every part of me, and I will never be without it.

I squeeze my arms and legs tighter around Wolfe because I’m afraid if I don’t, I’ll give up and let the ocean do with me whatever it will. But Wolfe’s arms are secure around me, holding me together when I’m sure I’ll fall apart.

The current slows, and we surface. We both pull in air, our chests expanding into each other as we breathe. I cling to him as if he’s a life preserver, and in this moment, I’m sure that he is.

The water pulls us along. I look toward the shore, but we’re far away from the beach where the rush took place, far away from my parents. Far away from my heart.

Wolfe’s feet touch the ground, the water pouring over his shoulders, but I don’t move. I stay wrapped around him, afraid that as soon as I let go, the weight of my decision will crush me until I’m nothing more than a grain of sand on the beach.

I slowly pull my head back and look at Wolfe, meeting his eyes for the first time tonight.

His breathing picks up, and he moves his hands to either side of my face. Water drips from his dark hair, his eyelashes, his lips. He looks so perfect it physically hurts.

“What did you do?” he asks, his voice rough. Accusatory. He searches my face, frantic, his palms pressed against my cheekbones.

“I became everything I’m afraid of being.”

Then I kiss him. His breath catches when my lips touch his, a gasping sound that turns me into something wild. I grasp at his face, his hair, his shoulders, hungrily taking his kisses as if they’re air, the only thing keeping me alive.

He opens his mouth and groans when my tongue meets his, the sound moving through my whole body. My legs stay wrapped tightly around his hips, and he moves his hands to my back, pulling me closer.

Closer.

Closer.

I’m crazed, my lips finding his jaw, his neck, his temple. He tips his head back, his eyes closed, moonlight flooding his face. It completely undoes me. This boy has upended every part of my life, set my entire existence on fire.

I came alive when I met him, and I won’t pretend that I didn’t. I won’t pretend he hasn’t become vital to me, that he hasn’t enabled me to see myself exactly as I want to be seen.

My lips find his again. He tastes like the sea, my own personal ocean. My arms are tight around his neck, my fingers deep in his hair. When I finally pull away, he looks at me as if he’s taking in every vulnerability, every insecurity, every fear and hope and doubt. He takes it all in and kisses me once more, accepting everything I have to offer.

He is my daylight, my sun, my hours spent practicing magic. I know that now, and I vow to be the same for him.

But we aren’t confined to daylight. Here we can be whoever we want to be.

I watch him, impossibly beautiful in the moonlight.

I press my lips to his.

He comes alive in darkness, so darkness I become.





twenty-seven





Steam rises all around me in the large porcelain bath. I close my eyes, letting the water wash away the salt from the sea and the salt from my tears. But nothing will take away the image of my father frantically trying to reach me in the waves. Nothing.

There’s a heavy freedom that comes with what I’ve done. I’ve lived my entire life afraid of being selfish, afraid of searching out what I wanted because I knew all along that what I wanted didn’t matter. But I always thought I’d have the strength to be who they needed me to be, to disregard my own happiness because I believe so strongly in an alliance with the mainland. I was wrong.