Page 93 of Inextricably Tied

“You remember at the Convent…” Wind ruffles through Harbinger’s hair. “When you asked if I’m sleeping with you because I have no other options?”

Shame surges through their connection. “I shouldn’t have —”

“You asked the wrong question.”

There’s temptation to keep her lips clamped shut. To avoid putting this into words, but she doesn’t want to be that any more. Doesn’t want to avoid this. Doesn’t want to lose anything else to the walls she built to keep loss away. If the walls prevent her from getting close to someone else, keep her from experiencing this, she wants to tear them down.

“You were asking if I would have chosen to make the connection. I’m telling you that I choose it now. I choose you now.” She meets the tender look on Flint’s face with the certainty of her own. “I would choose to feel both of you, forever, if it means keeping you. Even knowing that there’s no going back. Even knowing how complicated this is. It was an accident, not a mistake. I would choose this connection a thousand times over not having you.” It’s a relief to say it. A smile tugs across her lips. “After everything it’s taken, this power has finally given me something good.”

Flint sweeps her into his arms, kissing her deeper than he ever has, mouths molding together and pressing out a sigh when her fingers knot in his hair. When he finally sets her back on the ground, her knees are weak.

“You said you wanted me to tell you what I want.” Flint’s hand comes up to cup her cheek. It makes her stomach flutter. “I want more from you. Not just sex. I want us to call this what it is.” His fingers brush her skin so gently, but the heat of his eyes is enough to melt her. “I don’t just want to be your partner anymore.”

Her teeth dimple into her grin, pressing her cheek into his palm when she inclines her head toward the cabin. “You want more from him, too?”

Flint follows her eyes with a sigh. “Yes,” he admits. As if he hasn’t said it to himself, shoulders rising like a weight has finally lifted. “I don’t know how it’s possible. How it could work.” There’s a pining glint in his eyes. “But I do.”

THIRTY-THREE

Agony

Freedom is a funny thing. Agony spent so much of the past month considering what it would take to get it, and now that he has it, he stays still. There’s no urge to escape. No desire to run. He’s content to remain kept by the very hands that freed him.

Getting out of the cuffs was nice, though. No longer constrained to one physical form, Agony expands his shadows and stretches the tendrils across the cabin bed.

His connection with Harbinger grows stronger by the day. If he’s honest, sometimes he presses his ear to their bond to feel the vibrations of Flint and Harbinger. It’s less about the words they say and more about the tender lilt in their voices, the quiet crush like velvet before they come back into the cabin.

Harbinger scans the mass of his body. He’s amorphous, spilling off the side of the bed, undulating like an open portal. “You look so different.”

“Hardly recognize me, huh?”

A little smile comes to her face. “Not that different.”

Agony’s shadows flutter.

“You were going to tell us about the dreamscape.”

Flint’s voice makes him jump. “Uh, right. Yeah.” Flint smirks behind Harbinger as Agony explains. “Now that I’m not constrained, we can get more from the dream. Find more landmarks, follow the trail further. Go deeper.”

He expects her to jump at the chance, but she looks to Flint. “What do you think?”

“It’s a risk.” Flint rubs his beard. “But anything new is. We’ve exhausted everything else. You’ve read every surface we could find, spoken to the girls’ families, pierced the Veil with the banshees. If you and Agony are able to get more from the dream, then I think it’s our best option.”

“Agreed.” Harbinger kneels on the edge of the mattress, staring down into the swirling mass of shadows.

“It’ll be different,” Agony warns. “More real. You don’t have to fall asleep to enter, but that means we have to pull you out when we’re done.” This time, Harbinger’s willingness isn’t spurred by reckless desire. Still, Agony meets her eyes. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He glances to Flint. “I promise.”

The certainty in Flint’s gaze makes the shadows ripple. “I don’t doubt that.”

Harbinger situates herself over Agony, prepared to dive into the pool. “Ready?”

“With you?” He cranes up to reach her, stopping short of her mouth. “Always.”

Tendrils outstretch, encircling her waist and pulling her into his depths. With one last look to Flint, Agony dives in after her.

Air rushes past them, wind growing louder as Agony tightens his hold around Harbinger. It’s a freefall, endless and impossible, forcing their eyes shut until the roaring settles to a breeze. When they land on the ground, it’s in the same clearing of clawed trees they’ve grown so familiar with.

Harbinger whispers, as if something might hear them. “This is it.”