Water’s Edge (A Series of Sharp Edges #1)

33. Mattie

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

mattie

N othing but soothing silence engulfs me. Limitless quiet consumes me. The calming feel of the water surrounds me. I can just make out the twinkle of the lightning bugs above the surface. Everything is peaceful, and nothing hurts.

A delicate pounding comes from my chest, like the beat of a heart. Only, instead of a rhythmic thud, it’s more like a constant crashing of waves against the shore. The water around me grows inky and dark, but I’m not afraid. I allow the current of shadows to carry me up towards the lights, towards the pull of the woods that I know waits for me just beyond the surface.

My eyes open. The brightness of my surroundings comes into focus. Dark blurs form into trees. The ground becomes solid beneath my bare feet. The fabric of my white nightgown brushes across my skin in the breeze. I feel the weight of a crown upon my head and I lift it off to see it’s the same as the one in my dream. I place it back and feel the stubs of antlers through my hair as I do.

Anguished wails draw my gaze to the clearing just before me. Dust hangs heavy in the air. Bodies lie in the dirt, strewn between cars. A large, hunched figure heaves with each cry in the center of the chaos. Ripp.

I take a few careful steps into the light before I recognize the scene I’ve entered. Ripp, my stranger, holds the shell of my body against his chest. He strokes the hair of the broken body and whispers promises in a language that feels familiar, but I can’t make out the words. I inch my way forward until I’m close enough to reach out to the shadows that swarm around him. I twirl my fingers through them, and they dance around my hand in recognition.

“Ripp,” I whisper. His head jerks up at my voice, and his bony jaw falls slack as he turns to meet me. We’re a mess of bramble, shadow, and mist as his form contorts to mirror my human appearance. His eyes, icy pools of blue that I’d allow myself to drown in over and over again, reappear. They widen like he has never laid eyes on me before, and his arms wrap around me. He clutches me to his chest before lifting me, spinning us in circles. I laugh, and a joyous sound I’ve never heard come from me echoes across the clearing. There’s no longer any undercurrent of anger or sadness to the sound.

Once my feet touch the Earth again, Ripp holds me out like he’s looking for any signs of hurt. His finger rises to my chest. He traces along a faint silvery scar, shaped like a jagged starburst. It starts in the center of my chest, and veins spider out from it like tiny bolts of lightning. It takes the place where the vial he gifted me used to rest. Understanding flashes through his eyes as he looks back to me. His bottom lip quivers, like he can’t find the right words. Instead of speaking, I step into him and lift up on my toes until his mouth meets mine.

The outside world fades away as my lips part for him. His tongue crashes into my mouth needily, and I twist mine against his, taking turns with whose mouth we explore. Our teeth clack together as our hunger builds. I bite into his bottom lip, sucking it between my teeth before soothing it between my own lips. His taste is smokey and spiced, like warm cider that eases my aching body on a cold night. Even the touch of his skin against mine feels different from before.

Ripp pulls back, and my body shudders from the loss. His hands come to my face, cupping them under my chin. “Look at you,” he murmurs. “My angel of death has come back to me.”

I give him a wicked smile. My cheeks rub against his palms, sending sparks of electricity down my body. “You’ll have to try harder next time.”

Ripp growls, tightening his grip. His eyes burn like blue flames behind his heavy lids. “There will be no next time, little bug.” His face leans down until I can feel air blow hot against my skin with each word. “You’re mine now, for all time, until the Earth is nothing more than bones crushed into dust.”

“What do we do now?” My eyes dart behind him to my cabin and the remnants of a life that’s no longer mine.

“We return this to whom it belongs.” He gestures toward the cabin as vines snake up from the ground, breaking through wood and the remaining breeze blocks. Bramble and brush spread in a thick covering across the gravel, breaking through the broken planks of the porch. A cloud of mist and dust rises, coating the cabin until the windows are only stained panes of glass and the wood ages decades in the blink of an eye. Every ghost of my past, every shred of evidence of a life before this one, bends and falters to the unforgiving woods.

“But what about them?” I ask, pointing to the closest unconscious man. Ripp shrugs then chuckles, but I continue to stare at him.

“Oh, they’ll wake up eventually.” He sighs, not bothered by the outcome. “They’ll claim that empty shell of your human body as their prize.”

“We should bury her,” I say lowly, tinged with sadness I know I should feel.

“We could bury your ghost and burn the rest.” He grabs my hand and pulls me against his side before whispering in my ear. “Or we can always hunt them down later, little bug.”

I squeeze his hand in response and look up at him mischievously. He only has enough time to raise an eyebrow before I sprint towards the woods, dragging him behind me.

“We all get what we deserve,” I laugh, turning my head back with a smile. Still holding his hand tightly in mine, we disappear into the darkness of the trees.