The Legend of the Eight: The Twisted (Book 3)

25: The Art of Letting Go

TWENTY-FIVE: THE ART OF LETTING GO
MAY 28
WIL DIAMOND

"WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT WIL DIAMOND knew how to slow dance?" Levi Heart teased while he rocked with Wil in the middle of a room filled with wine-drunk adults and a group of friends celebrating a very impulsive wedding.

Wil's brows pinched and she tilted her head to the side. "Really? Due to my mother's incessant need to keep me out of trouble as a kid, she had me classically trained in all areas. It's why I can play Bach on the piano while blindfolded."

Levi laughed at her, swinging her side-to-side. "Oh, is that right?" he teased her and she stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm really proud of you, you know."

"Oh yeah? And why's that?"

"You're better. You're not so messy all the time."

She snickered. "That's where you're wrong, Heart. I'm still a mess. I've just gotten better at hiding it."

"Maybe," Levi agreed with half a shrug. "But progress is progress."

"Mind if I cut in?" a deep, sultry voice interrupted them and standing there, looking dapper in a pair of light khakis and a white dress shirt, was Damon. His coffee brown eyes set on Wil as she stood before him in that blush-colored gown and there was a smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth that made her weak in the knees when she saw it.

Without even bothering to consult Wil—he must have known her answer already—Levi handed her over and she felt Damon's hands slip seamlessly into the places where Levi's just were.

"Twenty-six," he told her while moving with her to the beat of the music. He had one hand wrapped around hers and the other on the small of her back, holding her body against his.

She squinted in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"Twenty-six," he said again like it was supposed to make more sense when repeated. "In case you're wondering, that's the number of times you've taken my breath away tonight."

Her cheeks brightened and she smiled softly. "You're not looking so bad yourself, Donovan."

He chuckled and his thumb began caressing her back, left bare by the opening in her dress. "Quite the night, huh? You guys sure do know how to throw a wedding."

She shrugged casually. "Well, we're sort of hitting a massive reset button tomorrow so might as well go all out, you know?"

He smiled, almost in a nostalgic sort of way.

"So," she said with a knowing smirk. "Where would I find Damon Donovan on August fifteenth?" She'd only recently learned that due to moon cycles and other seemingly important factors, August fifteenth was the day that she and the others would travel back to with the Watch of Iris.

He thought for a minute before answering. "At Rocco's Tavern. I started working there earlier that summer and honestly, before your dad called me in November, I thought I was going to be one of those forty-year-old bartenders still working their post-college gig."

Wil laughed. "Well maybe I'll swing by and see you one of those nights. After all, I'm going to have to reintroduce myself to you. Might as well be in a bar for old time's sake."

"I hate that I won't remember you," he said and she swore she felt that hand on her back pull her closer to him. She let him. There wasn't a single place in the Three Realms where she'd rather be. But she wasn't an idiot. She knew their fate. In twenty-four hours, she would go back in time and he wouldn't remember ever meeting her. She'd be the only one.