Chapter 42

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I stumble through the woods, the Darkness wrapped around me like a cloak, the North Star and the moon lighting the way.

I don't run into any rogues, for which I am thankful, as I'm unsure of my mental stability and wouldn't put it past the Darkness to obliterate anything in my path.

Images of Grey flash through my mind against my will, no matter how hard I try to block them out.

Grey, standing in my kitchen the day after we met, after I told him to leave me alone.

Grey, looking half-decomposed in the jail cell, his skin tone matching his name.

Grey, putting his hand over my eyes during the scary parts of movies because he knew I didn't like seeing blood.

Grey, laying crumpled on the floor of the woods, covered in blood as his eyes were a blank slate.

The night is cold, wind cuts through me like a knife, and the Darkness does nothing to warm me as cold water droplets begin to assault my skin. I deserve the cold.

After hours of walking in the pouring rain, the harsh winds freezing the water in my hair solid, I finally reach the edge of the clearing, and I crumple on the ground, whatever edge the Darkness gave me long gone as the emptiness consumed me.

"Finn," I whisper, my throat dry and voice coarse. "Finn."

Curling into a ball, stray tears freeze on my face, forming icicles around my eyes that I don't bother to wipe away.

"Onyx!" I hear him yell, and he sounds far away.

Warm hands grab my face, but all I can see is the Darkness. He picks me up, holding me close to his warm body, but it's not enough to stop my body from wracking with shivers.

He's sprinting, and I hear muffled sounds as he runs upstairs. People are talking to him, but he ignores them, and I can't make out what anyone is saying.

Greyson is dead.

I hear water running, and I'm still in his arms.

"Onyx, Onyx can you tell me what happened?" He desperately asks, but I'm too retreated into my mind, separate from the physical world.

I can faintly feel his warm hands wiping away the ice on my eyes, and hear him pleading for me to say something, anything.

His body was still warm when I closed his eyelids.

Did anyone hear the prayer?

Finn's warmth is replaced by soft, feminine hands that strip the clothes that are frozen solid off of my body. The warmth returns as the gentle hands submerge me in water so scalding against my icy skin it feels like I'm being burnt alive.

I thrash, sending water flying out of the tub, but the hands restrain me, keeping me in the water that does nothing to melt the ice around my heart.

It should have been me.

My body is shaking with sobs, and I can hear someone wailing, a primal, heartbroken sound.
The hands dump water over my head, and a soft, feminine voice tries to soothe me, and once the water is lukewarm, I can feel myself being lifted from the tub, and I can begin to feel my body again.

There's excruciating pain in my chest, and I remember Thane's magic crushing my ribcage.
Thane.

I should have killed him when I had the chance.

His eyes were cruel, calculating as he ripped Greyson's heart out. He had done it because he knew how much it would hurt me. My punishment.

When the hands are replaced with silk sheets, I immediately lean over the side of the bed, and violently throw up.

A different set of hands holds my hair back as everything is expelled from my body, the hurling sending even more pain through my ribs. I taste blood, and hear someone yelling for a healer.

I scream when I smell someone unfamiliar hands that try to inspect my stomach.

"Onyx, stop!" I hear Finn plead, and for a moment, I freeze, but when I feel the foreign hands, I start screaming and thrashing.

They must have been told to back off, because the hands don't try touching me again.

Someone is still wailing, but I still somehow am able to fall asleep, but I awaken after I only dream of a dismembered heart.

I'm not sure how many times I woke up after the bloody heart to throw up, each time, large hands rubbing my back softly and holding my hair back.

The cycle goes on, I don't know for how long, but I only see darkness for long enough that the next time my eyes open, I can see clearly again.

Finn is pacing, his green eyes snapping up when he realizes I'm awake. His hair is messy, his eyes bloodshot and dark circles encase them.

"Onyx," He says in relief, and he's immediately at my side, kneeling next to the bed as he clutches my cold hand.

I wonder how cold Greyson's body is. Will anyone bury him?

The thought fills me with nausea, but I'm unable to throw anything up as I dry-heave, only blood is coughed up on to the clean floor, the vomit from the previous night gone.

"All of your ribs are broken," Finn says softly as his hand gently rubs circles on my back. "You need to let the healer help you."

I shake my head, thrashing in his arms that try to restrain me. I don't want to see the healer. I want to feel the pain, the only reminder I have left that it wasn't a nightmare.

"Okay, okay!" Finn acquiesces, desperate to stop my body from shaking and fighting him. "We can do that later. Can you tell me what happened to you, Onyx?"

"He's dead," I whisper in agony, tears streaming down my face. "He killed him."

"Who's dead, Onyx?" Finn asks softly, like I'm glass and he's scared of shattering me.

"He killed him," I repeat in horror, and Finn's eyes are green, just like Thane's.

I shove him away, sending a searing pain through my chest. "Get away from me," I cry, and all I can see when I look at him is Thane.

You fight the Darkness, he had said, his hands covered in blood.

"Onyx," He says with a confused look on his face, his arms held up nonthreateningly. "You're safe, I won't hurt you."

You lack experience, he already knew he was going to kill Greyson, and there was nothing I could do about it.

"Get... Out..." I say, my voice raspy. His eyes are green.

"Onyx, I just want to help you," He pleads. Green eyes.

The small tree in the side of the room dies, and the Darkness swirls around me as I scream, "You killed him! Get the hell away from me," And my screams turn to sobs.

Thane leaves, and I throw my magic at the window, sending shards of glass flying, and I'm thankful when one of them pierces my cheek, the blood pouring down the side of my face.

Greyson is dead. Nothing else matters.

This happy, lighthearted chapter is dedicated to anotherweirdchick  who has said very uplifting things to me such as:

• Go to therapy

• Do some research and introspection and learn how to write a happy chapter

• Addressing me as SPA (sociopathic psychotic author)

This chapter wouldn't have been possible without you 😘

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