I didn’t speak even once. His words are dredged up like an excavation, something that’s been buried for years, too painful to be unearthed. But he told me. He dragged up all of those moments from his past and laid it bare. Now I have answers to questions I hadn’t even thought to ask.
When he finishes, silence fills in the hollowed out air. For several long seconds, my mind whirls, my thighs shifting over the rock beneath me. It’s a lot to take in, so I don’t think I even can right away. There are so many more layers that this tomb of memories has unearthed, and I think only time will truly help me to comprehend the magnitude of it.
I clear my throat, gaze shifting to the giant slash in the air before I glance back to him. “So that’s how you got to Orea.”
He nods slowly, staring at the stormy rip. “Yes.”
“Do you think…do you think that’s how I got here? Someone else made a rip in the world?” I ask.
Heavy eyes lift to mine. “I don’t know. I’ve thought of that a lot, ever since you told me you were smuggled here. It makes me wonder if any other fae have been living in Orea all this time, hiding in plain sight.”
“But do you think that I…” I trail off, head motioning toward the rip.
Slade shakes his head. “No. When I’m not here, this is always guarded, and not a single person has come through since that day. If anyone had, I would’ve felt it, because my power force is tied to it.”
All of this information brings up thousands of more questions, like dust pluming in the air after something huge just dropped. But one look at Slade’s face makes my questions settle back down. His face is drawn tight, eyes carrying more shadows than can be blamed on the cave.
He looks exhausted, more vulnerable than I have ever seen him, like the raw edges of a rock that’s been chiseled, left with a bared surface he’s not used to showing.
“I know what you went through was horrible, but for what it’s worth, I am glad that you’re here in this world with me,” I say quietly.
His eyes soften. “Oh, Goldfinch. I would’ve found you in whatever world you were in. In whatever life.”
My lips tip up in a soft smile, because I believe him. “You would’ve found me in them all.”
When he nods, I slowly get to my feet, taking careful steps over to him. Instead of saying anything, I place my hand over his curled fist. He immediately relaxes his fingers, allowing me to slip my palm against his, to thread our fingers together. A tremor of a breath quakes from his chest.
I gently tug on his hand, and there’s only a moment’s hesitation before he lets me lead him away. We make our way back through the dim cave, past his mother’s house, through the little notch in the mountain and back into the snow.
Our fingers stay laced together as I lead him down the slope, all the way back to the comforting glow of the Grotto. But instead of going to the house, I keep leading him on. He gives me a confused look, but as soon as we pass the entrance of the Teeth, he knows exactly where I’m leading him.
It’s not until the smell of sulfur clogs my nose and the cold air is replaced with steam and warmth that I finally let go of his hand.
Slade watches me with a frown snagging his brows together. “What are—”
His words cut off when I toe off my boots and shove off my leggings. I see the knot in his throat bob up and down as I shrug off my coat, placing my clothes on a rock beside us.
In only my borrowed shirt that skims my bare thighs, I then walk around to his back and gently slip off his coat, placing it with mine. When I face him again, the confusion has been replaced with hooks of rapt attention that pierce straight into me.
My heart might be racing, but I shove aside my nervousness as I look up at him. “You bared yourself to me. It’s time I do the same.”
He sucks in a breath as I turn around and look at him expectantly over my shoulder. Only hesitating for a moment, he then steps against me until the heat of his body seems to permeate into mine.
I feel his hands at the top of my shirt, his fingers skimming over the collar. He pauses, as if he’s giving me a chance to change my mind, but I won’t.
When he undoes the first button, I shiver in both anticipation and worry.
One by one, he bares my back, until the last button is unclasped. He gently pushes the shirt down, slipping it off my arms and laying it on the rock with our coats. And now I’m exposed completely. The sight of my ruined back on full display, my own vulnerability and painful memory exposed to him.
My body trembles. My stomach is tight. And my eyes—my eyes burn with the memories of being held up against a wall while I was severed two dozen times.