by Elara Skye
Amelia hesitated. “Well, either way, it doesn’t matter now. We all learned to live with your choices. I suggest you do the same.”
Daniel didn’t look like he had a response—even if he did, it made no difference. Amelia turned and headed in Finn’s direction. From across the room, she saw him leaning on the threshold of the opulent doorway, scrolling through more e-mails his phone.
He looked up at the sound of her footsteps approaching. “So, how much of that did you hear?” she asked, though he didn’t look amused. Instead, Finn seemed a bit wan. “You okay?”
He took a deep breath, forcing a grin. “I am. Are you?”
“Just fine,” she answered tersely.
“Right.” Finn nodded, straightening up. Amelia saw him glance over her shoulder, then back at her. “You ready to go, then?”
“I will be,” she reached up and poked his chest, “when you tell me where we’re going.”
He grabbed her wrist, bringing it down to his side, “You’ll find out, in good time. Let’s go.”
Finn led her outside, where the air was as biting as she figured it would be. Moments later, they came around the side of the hotel, where golden hotel lights illuminated the front line of a thick forest, bestrewing the mountain valley. The hotel was the last point of civilization before the unbridled wilderness, but Finn didn’t slow when they drew close.
Amelia tugged him back. “Wait, we’re not going in there, are we?”
“Of course, we are.”
“There’s not even a trail around here.”
“What’s there to be scared of in a little wilderness?”
Amelia pulled her hand back, lifting it in front of her. “Hypothermia,” she counted with her fingers, “eaten by bears, eaten by wolves, getting lost—”
“None of which will happen with me.” He laughed. “Stay by me, and I promise nothing will eat you.”
“Famous. Last. Words.”
“Amelia,” he meandered back to her, grinning broadly, “you genuinely think that I would ever let something happen to you?”
She eyed the pitch-black woods warily. As much as she wanted to, Amelia realized that she still hadn’t fully grasped the truth about who and what Finn was. Despite everything that happened, deep down, she still clung to the laws of reality that felt familiar to her.
She sighed. “Finn, this is the part in the movie where if something happens, for whatever reason, everyone will say we had it coming.”
“Give in, my love,” he said, kissing her forehead softly. “And live a little. Not every person gets to experience what I’m about to show you—a forest is not an insurmountable obstacle.”
“Fine,” Amelia muttered reluctantly, letting him lead her onward.
The valley was secluded, save for the ski runs several miles away, which were still in operation, even at this point in the year. The snow barely showed signs of subsiding any time soon. Thick, white blankets glowed a transient blue under the moonlight, blanketing the ground around them.
There was a gradual incline to the slope as well, which Amelia felt as they followed along the banks of a nearby creek. The trickling water glistened beside them, and there was a purity to the scene that relaxed her. Mounds of untouched snow covered the mud and grass, and only rocks and hoarfrost-laden tree trunks disturbed the perfect frost. Strangely enough, despite the ice and cold surrounding her, Amelia was perfectly warm and comfortable—toasty, even—in her apparel.
She flinched at a sudden movement across the creek, death-gripping Finn’s hand as a massive, ragged wolf emerged from the trees.
“What’s wrong?” he murmured, looking back at her.
Amelia’s eyes were fixed—wide and terrified—on the animal, and Finn swept his gaze in its direction like it was nothing. The wolf blinked up at him, brushing its matted paws through the flakey snow, and stopped at the water’s edge. They all stood motionlessly for a moment, and Amelia was sure that hers was the only heart thumping wildly in her chest.
A chuckle rumbled from Finn. “Don’t worry,” he said as he looked at the animal. “There’s nothing here to interest her.”
The wolf straightened momentarily, sniffing around the air as it looked at him. From where she stood, shielded by the angel, Amelia watched the wolf finally inch back, smelling the snow curiously before sauntering back into the blackness of the woods.
She released the breath she’d been holding in, pressing her forehead to his arm. “Jesus Christ, how much further?”
“Just a little bit,” Finn said as he led her on, turning around the final curve of the creek. And sure enough, from there, it was a quick trek to their destination. “We’re here.”
Amelia bumped into him while trying to navigate the rocks beneath her feet, at the banks of a lake. She looked up, the cold air still cutting her lips, and observed the scenery. The lake stretched out before them, lying motionlessly at the foot of the mountains. Bodies of rock encircled it on all sides, discernible from the cracks and crevices outlined by the moon. Like everything else, it was an unmoving sheet of glass, rippling slightly at the mouth of the creek it fed.
“Wow,” Amelia whispered, taking it all in.
“Like it?”
“Definitely.”
“Well, you’re about to like it more—I have to ask you something first, though.”
The way he took her hands in both of his, Amelia’s heart leaped into her throat. Thoughts began to buzz. There was the earlier excitement, the enthusiasm to come all this way—and now, a question?
“What’s up?” she asked reluctantly.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes?” Was that the question?
“Good.” Finn released her hands. “Wait here, then.”
Amelia loosened a breath as he walked away, unsure of whether to be sad or relieved as he left her hobbling over the rocks. Meanwhile, taking nimble steps, Finn swiftly made his way to the water’s edge, leaving her behind to watch. Amelia couldn’t see much beyond his shadowy figure kneeling to the water’s edge. Slowly, he lowered his hand to the surface and flattened it against the water.
A deep, rumbling sound vibrated through the air, unsettling her a bit. Waves of ice crackled and splintered down the creek—if not for that, Amelia couldn’t have guessed at what was happening. The lake was freezing over.
“Look behind the biggest rock to your left,” Finn called out over his shoulder.
Amelia turned and spotted it immediately, nestled closer to the tree line. It took some effort to trek back over the uneven bank, and she gripped the jagged edges of its surface for balance as she looked behind it. A pair of ice skates sat in its shadow. They were warm in her hands when she picked them up.
“What are these for?”
“To be used for something I have yet to see from you,” he said as he glanced back at her.
“Wait, are these my skates?” she asked, holding them up to the light.
“Of course, they are.”
She was at a loss for words, barely tottering her way back to him. “You’re saying you want me to go out there in these?”
“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” Finn said, his hand still resting on the icy surface.
“Finn—this is sweet, but there are so many reasons why it’s a bad idea.”
“The lake will be frozen solid in a moment if that’s your concern.”
“Not just that,” she said. “If the surface is bumpy, I could slip and fall too.”
“Give it a minute,” he murmured. “Step back, darling.”
A cocktail of anxiety coursed through her as she followed his instructions. Finn’s eyes cut to the center of the lake—she could’ve sworn she saw a light in them—and his hand left the surface in a sweeping motion. What followed was a chorus of minute splintering sounds, and a cloud of diamond dust erupting into the air, glittering like a million tiny gems pluming up to the sky. Amelia watched them join the stars overhead.
“That should be good,” Finn said as
he turned toward her. “How does the lake look now?”
Amelia barely tore her eyes from the spotted sky, lowering them down to the lake instead. In the absence of its topmost layer, the ice gleamed perfectly, displaying a smooth reflection of the full moon and stars.
“Jesus...” she breathed out.
The exhilaration didn’t quite translate in her voice, but Finn didn’t seem to notice as he smirked. “I assure you, he had nothing to do with this.”
Amelia narrowed her eyes, feeling a thread of familiarity twist in the pit of her stomach. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could’ve sworn she’d been here before.
“So, do you want to try it?” Finn asked.
“What?” she blinked at him.
“I have to ask, though I won’t force you.”
“I…I don’t know.” Amelia was at a loss for words. “I wish we had music or something.”
“Well, what do you normally listen to?”
“An old competition mix on my phone—I think I left it at the hotel, though.”
“Do you remember it well?” She nodded. “Then I can work with that. Play it in your mind, and I’ll hear it mine.”
“What do you mean?”
Finn grinned. “Do you want me to explain it to you?”
Amelia glanced warily at the lake. “You’re right. It probably wouldn’t help. Are you sure it’s safe, though?”
“I would never endanger you willingly.”
“How thick is the ice?”
“The lake is over a mile deep, and it’s solid ice to the very bottom.”
“Wow,” she huffed nervously. “Okay, got it. Wait—what about the fish?”
“They’ll be fine.” Finn stepped to the side, gesturing to a rock where she could sit and put on the skates—which were still warm in her hand. “It’s up to you.”
Amelia had never skated on a mountain lake before, but she had heard of other people doing it. She was never a particularly daring person—she would’ve preferred the rink—but how could she turn this down?
“Okay.” She finally nodded, stepping over to the rock. “I think I’ll regret it if I don’t try.”
Finn smiled. “My thoughts exactly.”
The rock was cold as she sat down to put her skates on, leaving her shoes by the bank. The skates were warm around her feet, shielding her from the biting wind that played with her scarf and hair.
“As for the music,” he said, “Do I have your permission to listen in?”
“Listen in?” She shrugged, standing back up. “Sure, I guess. Is it like reading my mind?”
“Something like that. You’ll find you’ll also hear it a bit more clearly than you would otherwise.”
“Alright.” Amelia nodded apprehensively. “Well, don’t laugh at me if I fall, okay?”
“I can’t promise that.”
“And if I break my leg?”
“Then, I’ll heal it.” Finn smiled broadly and gestured to the lake. “It’s yours for the taking.”
“Okay,” she whined humorously, turning away from him.
Finn helped her balance on the rocks as she stood, setting one skate onto the ice, and then the other. Her movements were slow and tentative at first, but the blades glided smoothly across the surface. She was careful not to stray too far from the shore.
A fair distance away, Amelia stopped and looked up at the sky. The stars were nothing compared to the vision of the Milky Way, but they were still beautiful. As was the moon, painting her irises with its mollifying light.
Amelia took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she recalled the song. They shot back open when she heard the tune somewhere distantly, like a distant echo in her ears. She looked around for the source, seeing Finn perched on the same rock she was sitting on before. His gaze drifted down to her from the moon.
Amelia heard the violin solo first, just as she always did. Slowly but surely, she began making strokes across the ice, stretching one arm, then the next. The landscape spun around her, her movements loosening as she grew comfortable with the ice. It took a moment to realize the subtle changes in the music—changes, perhaps, that Finn was implementing—and another to overcome the idea of being watched by him. On the ice, she had no name—she was nothing and no one but the ice and wind and music, incising the sky below her feet.
With a final spin, she lifted a leg off the ice, gliding backward into an axel jump. At the very last second, she let out a tiny gasp as the myriad of visions invaded her mind, breaking her concentration. Images of breaking ice and black waves swallowing her whole—they sent her tumbling to the ground in a screaming, terrified fury. There was no telling when the tears began or why the visions felt so real, until a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders.
Amelia thrashed violently as they shook her, realizing that there was no immediate danger. It was all a dream—a nightmare.
“Oh, my god,” she breathed out, realizing why she recognized the scenery earlier. The music had ended, replaced by the sound of Finn’s voice. She blinked up at him, gripping his coat. “F-Finn?”
“Who was that?” he questioned tersely, matching his expression. “Amelia, who was it?”
“What?” she squeaked.
“Who was that just now?”
“What’re you talking about?” she cried. “That was a nightmare—my nightmare.”
Finn was on his knees in front of her. “Who was the person in the nightmare, Amelia?”
“What are you talking about? There wasn’t anyone in there,” she insisted. “R-Right?”
“What—?” he breathed out, but it didn’t seem directed at her. Finn clenched his teeth. “Damn it all to hell.”
“What’s going on?” she moaned, shifting uncomfortably on the ice.
“I’d like to know that too,” he growled.
“What do you mean?”
His voice was tense—angry, “Nothing. Let’s get back to the hotel.”
“No, tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing’s going on. I saw myself in your vision, nothing more,” Finn said flatly—somehow, she didn’t believe it. “I thought it was something else, but I was wrong.”
“Are you telling me the truth?”
“I’m telling you I thought I saw something. That’s the truth. Now you tell me if you can walk,” he demanded.
She shifted a bit. “Y-Yeah, I think so...”
“Alright.” He reached out to help her up. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”
The way back was going to be a long one, and she’d never seen him this upset. “Finn?”
“What?”
He looked at her, likely noting how his reaction disturbed her more than the incident. “It wasn’t even your nightmare, and you’re more upset than I am. I’m pretty sure that means something.”
“It means your nightmares affect me too. Don’t ask me why,” Finn stated, visibly trying to soften for her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were losing sleep from such awful images. Drowning is a terrible way to go. But I’d tell you if you had something to worry about.”
“I guess...” Amelia knitted her brows incredulously. None of this made sense to her, but then again, neither did much of anything else.
“Come on,” Finn hooked an arm around her waist, “let’s get back to the hotel. We’ve got a flight to catch tomorrow anyway, we should get some rest.”
“Yeah.” She nodded, his expression casting doubt that Finn was truly thinking about rest at that moment. “Sure…”
Chapter twenty-two
Finn drummed his fingers against the conference table, his patience wearing thinner and thinner. He and Amelia flew home three days ago, which was when he contacted the person he’d be meeting tonight. It should’ve been more than enough notice for them to arrive on time—it was certainly enough for Amelia to schedule a meeting with her attorney.
The office was quiet. Orchard Enterprises was generally empty at this point in the day, so it wasn’t surprising. The space was utterl
y devoid of the footsteps that usually traversed through the halls. Nor were there any of the occasional interruptions pulling him out of his stressful thoughts. The sound of his thumping heart was the only sign of life surrounding him.
Finn sighed, leaning back to check his phone, wondering whether Amelia was finished with her meeting as well.
Now and again, Finn encountered industry attorneys who worked this late into the day, but it was infrequent. They weren’t unlike other working professionals, though he never paid them much attention. Certainly not to the current extent, wherein Finn was vehemently opposed to her scheduling a meeting past seven. She should have insisted on being penciled in for an earlier time, knowing it would go past sunset. He’d have joined her—or at least picked her up—but his meeting was urgent as well, and Amelia assured him there was plenty of parking near the office.
“I have to admit,” a woman’s voice cut in through the silence, startling him a bit. “Of all the phone calls I was expecting to get this week, yours wasn’t one of them.”
Finn turned to the Dominion angel standing in the corner of the room, leaning against the unopened glass door. “Seraphina,” he muttered. “Still sneaking up on people?”
“Kings like it the most,” she joked as she sauntered over to one of the leather chairs, grappling the back. It spun toward her, and she crossed her legs as she plopped down comfortably. “And angels the least.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Finn said humorously. “I see you dressed for the occasion.”
“Oh, this?” She looked down at her business suit. “To be honest, I haven’t worn one of these in ages. I also got a short cut, did you notice?” She ran a hand through her hair, brushing it out of her dark complexion.
“It’s still over a foot long. I don’t think that counts as a ‘short’ cut.” Finn chuckled. “Still, I see the time that’s passed. What’ve you been up to all these years?”
“You mean since we talked twelve years ago?” Seraphina grinned. “Not much, to be honest. Did you hear about the military regime in the east going to hell?”
“No?”
“Well, you will in a few months.”
Finn arched a brow. “Still showing off, as well?”