Final Truth

Chapter 26: Terror in the Tunnels

I don't think twice about leaning my head on his shoulder and scooting as close as I possibly can toward him, not remotely caring anymore. Cade is my friend and I should not have to feel weird about this anymore.

Our breathing matches as we try to calm down, one of my hands still curled tightly around the box of powers. I can practically feel the swell of infinite energy inside of it, tempting even me to open it and take a look.

Cade must've seen the way I was looking at the box, for he quickly puts his hand over it and lowers it from my eyes. "Don't," he says huskily, and I immediately comply by setting the box down beside me and turning my full attention to Cade.

Do not think about Will, do not think worry about your friends, do not be afraid. Breathe in, breathe out. Think about anything except this...concentrate on what's in front of you.

My inhales shaky with nerves, I try to start a conversation with Cade about anything but what's really happening.

Do not have a panic attack; you are fine.

"Say something. Talk...please. Tell me something about you that I don't know," I beg in a whisper, lifting my head away from his shoulder and staring at his eyes intently.

The dim torches reflect their soft orange glow in his pale orbs, making them seem almost like a sunset despite their true blue tint.

Sunsets...the sky. I miss the sky.

Cade looks at me questioningly at first, but his face softens as he understands why I am asking this. "Alright...let's see," he ponders for a moment, his heart racing from the stress just like mine.

"My favorite color is purple. Yours?" He asks with a light laugh, his nerves pulsating from our intwined fingers.

"Yellow," I say, not missing a beat and not feeling brave enough to look away from his face.

If I stop staring at him, I will stare at the walls, and the walls will remind me that someone could be on the other side of them, and that someone will kill us and not even lose sleep over it.

"I was born in July," I blurt out, probably sounding like a fool.

"February," he replies without questioning, looking at me with a scared yet sympathetic expression.

I drop his hand that one of mine still clings to and instead wrap both of my arms around his waist as chastely as possible, pulling myself so close that even my stupid pride can't separate us now. His heart thunders beneath his skin.

"I've been a master healer since I was seventeen," I say next, the subject of that being the next thing that crosses into my mind.

"I've been a master of controlling my anatomy since I was sixteen," he replies with a bit of pride buried under his anxiety.

I am about question how he's had his power longer than me before I remember he came from Will's society. Different people, different rules.

"Still can't remember to use it before you face-plant on concrete," I tease him lightly, letting out a shaky breath. He tries to feign hurt at my jabbing of his head-wound, but it ends up looking like real pain under the stress.