Will of the Witch [Legacy, BK 2 - Completed]

Chapter 16

John

Breaking the surface of the water, I gasped for breath before pushing back my hair. The stone room was brighter than before. Brackets were added to the cave walls while we were gone, allowing more torches for light. And that wasn't the only change. The monks of the Temple had added more storage chests, another bench, and a rug. There was even a table and chairs. And yet, despite the attention to detail, it still felt off. Wrong.

I felt wrong.

Sinking into the water's embrace again, I concentrated on the way it drew the feeling of death from my body, the way it tried to leech the chill that had set into my bones. The night had been long, our escape from the camp nearly flawless, or so I overheard Benji tell Ezra.

I was like I was disconnected from reality. I could remember parts of the last six hours. Hunter pulling me away from the greenhouse. Anissa fighting hand to hand with a witch I didn't recognize. Going through Benji's portal, only to turn around and go through another to get to the Temple.

And yet, whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was my Dad laying the dirt.

I waited until my lungs burned for air before returning to the surface again. Once my eyes were clear of water, I found Hunter waiting for me. He sat on the bench closest to the edge, one of the large thick cloths the monks used as towels balled up in his hands.

"Ezra wants to talk as soon as you're up for it," he said, standing.

Using the edge of the pool, I pushed myself up out of the water and shivered a little. Even in the heat of the Halfworld's jungle, the chill refused to leave me alone.

Hunter stood, reaching around to wrap me in the towel. His touch was gentle, his expression even more so. But I didn't deserve it. How could I? I'd killed my own father, I-

Strong arms closed around me, pulling me free from my thoughts.

"You'll get wet," I said, trying to step back, but Hunter's grip only tightened.

"I'll dry." He spoke the words into my neck, a whisper that sent an entirely different vibration down my spine. Hunter pulled back enough to cup his hand against my cheek and pressed his forehead against mine.

How lucky was I to have such a guy come running through a camp of witches to rescue me?

"Thank you," I said softly and pressed a kiss into the palm of his hand. "For coming to get me."

Hunter stilled, disbelief in his eyes. "Christ, John, I should be the one thanking you. What you did-"

Pulling away, I kept the towel about my shoulders like a blanket with one hand. The other grabbing the stack of clothes that had been left for me. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Toweling off quickly, I pulled on the set of monk's robes. I was going to need to get some new threads at some point. Hell, I needed a whole new life now, didn't I? New career. New parents.

"It's okay to talk about it." Hunter crossed the space I'd created between us, but he didn't reach out to me again. "You should talk-"

"But I don't want to!" I snapped, tossing the towel in the direction of the bench next to me. "I don't want to talk about how my Dad tried to kill me, then tried to kill you. Or how I killed him instead."

Pain bubbled up in my chest, and I could do nothing to stop it. I dropped, barely registering the wood bench beneath me or that Hunter sat beside me a breath later. My thoughts crumbled the strong front I'd been trying to keep up and poured out of me.