by Chelsea Fine
He looked at her for a moment. “Tristan.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Tristan.”
“My pleasure, Scarlet.”
5
“No,” Gabriel began shaking his head violently, still gripping Scarlet’s hand. “No. She can’t be dead. She can’t be de—” The words lodged in his throat, suffocating him from the inside out.
He blinked back more tears and looked at Nate, whose eyes were wide and sad as he eyed Scarlet’s motionless body.
“You fixed her,” Gabriel said. “You got the arrow out. You stitched her up. She can’t be—” Gabriel couldn’t finish the sentence. Nate searched for Scarlet’s pulse and slowly shook his head. “I did everything I could.”
Gabriel squeezed Scarlet’s hand and waited in silence.
One minute…two minutes…three minutes….
No one moved or dared to speak as they stared at Scarlet’s body.
“She hasn’t disappeared yet.” Nate furrowed his brow. “Something’s wrong.”
Gabriel swallowed and traced Scarlet’s soft face with his eyes. Usually, Scarlet’s body vanished within a few minutes of her death. That was how her curse worked. She would live. Tristan’s immortal blood living inside her would kill her. She would die. Her body would disappear. Then Tristan’s blood would bring her back to life years later.
“Maybe she’s not dead.” Ridiculous hope filled Gabriel’s voice. “Maybe Tristan was wrong—”
“I’m not wrong,” Tristan whispered from his place on the floor, his green eyes flicking to Nate. “She’s not there. Her heart’s not beating.”
Because Tristan’s blood was embedded in Scarlet’s heart, Tristan was connected to her in a supernatural way. He could feel Scarlet’s heart and her emotions.
Something inside Gabriel snapped. Something long ago harnessed and hushed cracked in two, releasing a slow wave of helpless frustration into his veins.
When the curse had first fallen—the curse that had promised Gabriel would never know love without Scarlet—a piece of Gabriel’s soul had been sucked away, leaving an emptiness he could never seem to fill. The emptiness followed him into nightmares and taunted him in daydreams, reminding him that he would forever be without love.
For the first few years after the curse, Gabriel hadn’t known better. He’d lived his life normally, not searching for, or even desiring, love. Because love was a faraway thought in his young, selfish mind.
But the years became decades, and the hole in Gabriel’s soul began to grow. Stretching and groaning, the hole overtook him until he could no longer deny the truth inside him: Something powerful and essential was gone from his heart, stolen by the curse, ripped away permanently.
Love.
He was missing love.
And the only person who could change his fate was Scarlet. Gabriel followed Scarlet from life to life, eager for love. Yet, even when Scarlet was alive—even when she loved him deeply—the emptiness inside Gabriel remained.
But her life, her presence, filled him with a gift almost as impossible as love.
Hope.
Scarlet brought Gabriel hope and made him forget about the missing piece of his soul.
She gave him hope for true love. Hope for life. Hope for freedom.
Gabriel lived for the years that Scarlet was alive, craving the distraction her heart brought to his.
But when she was dead, Gabriel was lost.
Empty, incomplete, and lost. Left to face the world with the full sting of emptiness until Scarlet came back to him.
He glanced down at her body, bloody and pale on the table.
Gabriel had spent many years loving her, protecting her. Only to lose her time and time again.
Tristan was reason the Scarlet continued to die. Tristan’s immortal blood lived in Scarlet’s heart and tore it from the inside out until her mortal body could no longer sustain its power.
Scarlet was Gabriel’s one ray of light, one beam of hope.
And Tristan had taken her from him.
He was always taking her from him.
Gabriel could almost hear his soul snap. “This is all your fault.” Gabriel glared at his twin brother as he moved around the table, lowering his voice. “She was shot with an arrow that was meant to kill you. You’re the reason she’s dead.”
It was irrational. Illogical. But Gabriel didn’t care. He needed to hate someone for the pain he felt.
Sitting on the kitchen floor with his back against the wall, Tristan looked up with wide, glossy eyes. “I was trying to save her life.”
“You were being careless!”
Tristan shook his head.
“Yes,” Gabriel said darkly. “You were being careless. Reckless.”
A muscle flexed in Tristan’s jaw as he stood up and spoke quietly. “Reckless was you allowing her to meet me when I specifically said I didn’t want to be around her.”
Gabriel’s voice rose. “No. You don’t get to blame me for this. This,” he pointed to Scarlet’s body, “is on you.” Gabriel shoved Tristan into the kitchen wall and Tristan’s eyes flashed in anger.
For a moment, they both stood still. Gabriel moved to push Tristan again and Tristan knocked his hands away, causing Gabriel to stumble back a step.
Filled with sorrow and frustration, Gabriel did the only thing he could think of to relieve his anger.
He punched Tristan in the face.
A loud crack sounded into the living room as Tristan’s chin jolted at the blow.
Silence.
Tristan turned deadly eyes on Gabriel—eyes Gabriel hadn’t seen in many years—and threw back his own punch, knocking his fist into Gabriel’s jaw.
Grabbing Tristan by the shoulders, Gabriel sank his fingers into his brother’s upper arms, and threw him to the ground, slamming his fist into Tristan’s gut.
Tristan wrestled Gabriel off of him, returning a blow to Gabriel’s side.
“Hey, hey!” Nate stepped forward and held up a hand. “I think we all just need to calm down for a minute.”
Gabriel and Tristan ignored him.
Through a series of punches and throws, the brothers fought with one another across the living room, knocking over furniture and slamming into walls.
Both of them hurt.
Both of them angry.
Both of them with no one else to blame.
Gabriel pushed his pent up frustration out through his fists, savoring the crack and thud of each punch to Tristan’s body.
Tristan fought back, gripping at Gabriel’s shoulders and tossing him to the side, throwing responsive punches straight into Gabriel’s nose.
Broken skin, bleeding cuts, bruised flesh…none of it was enough to fill the hole.
Gabriel grasped Tristan’s shoulders, raised him up, and shoved him into the large window at the back of the living room. The window cracked and shattered under the weight of Tristan’s body, pieces falling everywhere like glass raindrops. Beautiful and sharp, sprinkling the floor with a thousand pieces of something broken and destroyed by them.
Tristan caught himself on the window’s frame and hurled his body back at Gabriel, throwing another punch.
Gabriel filled with more darkness than ever before and it was empowering. He slammed his fist into Tristan’s head.
It felt good to fight; to blame. To be out of control and fueled by sadness.
He knew it.
Tristan knew it.
Nate, however, didn’t seem to understand.
“Stop it!” Nate’s voice was loud, but inconsequential. “Stop it!” He grabbed the back of Gabriel’s shirt and pulled him away from Tristan. Struggling to shake off his friend, Gabriel twisted and fought, but Nate held steady. “Cut it out. Both of you.” He looked at Gabriel first, then Tristan.
And then at the window.
“Seriously, guys?” Nate said. “The window?”
Tristan took a step back, never taking his eyes off Gabriel.
Breathing heavily, Gabriel shrugged Nate of
f and looked at his twin. “I hate you.”
Tristan pulled a shard of glass from his hand and spit blood onto the wood floor of the living room. “You too.”
“The next time you try to kill yourself,” Gabriel said, teeth gritted, “don’t screw it up. Just die.”
Nate held a hand up in between them. “Okay, okay—”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Tristan’s eyes hardened as he took a step forward, glass crunching beneath his shoe.
“I would.” Gabriel nodded. “You’re poison to Scarlet. You sulk in the background like a quiet monster, slowly killing her from the inside out.”
Tristan lifted his chin defiantly. “At least I don’t beg her to love me like a lovesick puppy.”
Gabriel curled a lip and pushed Nate out of the way, charging at Tristan again. He had just fisted his shirt collar when Tristan suddenly winced and fell to his knees. But Gabriel was barely touching him.
What the hell?
Confused, Gabriel released Tristan’s collar and stepped back.
“What’s going on?” a soft voice said.
Gabriel turned to see Scarlet standing at the edge of the room, her big eyes taking in the sight of the destroyed furniture and bloody brothers. “What happened?”
“Scarlet?” Gabriel’s mouth fell open as he looked her over.
She was alive.
Like a light bulb switching on inside his soul, the darkness Gabriel had so willingly surrendered to just moments ago disappeared, replaced by a new, more powerful substance.
Hope.
6
Every piece of Tristan was screaming internally.
His lungs. His head. His heart.
He’d never experienced anything more excruciating in all of his existence.
But it was the best thing he’d ever felt.
Because pain—sickening, life-draining pain…pain that brought him to his knees and invaded his soul—this kind of pain always meant one thing.
Scarlet was alive.
His heart climbed up his chest. Eager. Desperate. Devouring the familiar pull of Scarlet’s heart. The agony made it impossible for him to move without groaning, but he didn’t care.
Because Scarlet was alive.
He could feel her raging heart beating with more fever than ever before, resounding in his chest and slowly bringing purpose back to his soul.
7
Tristan tried to die.
Scarlet could think of nothing else as she scanned the cabin’s living room. Gabriel’s muscular body blocked her view of the room as he hurried over to her.
His shirt was torn and his nose was bleeding as he gently cupped her face. “I thought I lost you,” he said with emotion. “I was so scared.” Scarlet looked into her boyfriend’s deep brown eyes. Why had he thought he lost her?
Scarlet watched Nate rush up to her as well. “Scarlet! Do you remember us?” He flittered around her in bafflement.
Turning her face away from Gabriel’s hands, Scarlet stared at Nate. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
She looked around the room. Where was Tristan? Was he safe? Was he alive?
“Because you….” Nate looked her over, his eyes perplexed. “You were dead.”
Scarlet stopped her search and spun her head to Nate, her mouth falling open. “I was what?”
I died? I died?
“How the crap did that happen?” Scarlet looked around in confusion, blinking at the scene before her.
The living room was trashed; the end tables were overturned, the large back window was completely shattered, and there were blood splatters on the floor.
Gabriel touched a hand to her arm, letting his fingers graze her skin. “Tristan rigged an arrow to kill himself tonight so he could save you, but you went after him in the woods and the arrow hit you instead.”
Scarlet blinked.
Tristan had tried to end his life for her. His stupid, selfless heart had tried to leave her alone in this world. And she had almost been too late to save him.
Thick emotion sloshed up against the walls of her throat and she hurried to swallow it down, the sting of tears hiding behind her eyes.
She’d almost lost the boy she couldn’t remember.
Scarlet stepped into the living room and her eyes found Tristan.
He was on his knees in the center of the room, grimacing with his eyes closed. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and small cuts covered his face. His hair was a mess, his clothes were a mess and his hands—Scarlet swallowed—his hands were completely covered in blood.
And he was in unbearable pain.
Not because of the cuts and bruises that were quickly healing across his immortal body, but because of her. She could feel her nearness wrapping around his insides with merciless torture.
“Tristan…” she whispered.
Nate looked at Tristan’s grimace in puzzlement. “Dude, what’s wrong?”
With his eyes still shut, Tristan took a deep breath. “I’m fine.”
“Uh…you don’t look fine.” Nate left Scarlet’s side and stepped closer to Tristan. “Are you in pain?”
Scarlet looked at Gabriel’s torn shirt and then at Tristan’s bloody mouth. Had they fought each other?
Tristan slowly rose from his knees and shook his head. “I’m fine,” he repeated. He opened his eyes and stretched his neck.
Tristan and Gabriel were identical twins, save for their eye colors. Gabriel’s eyes were a dark brown while Tristan’s were a brilliant green.
A captivating green.
Scarlet could feel the torment ripping through Tristan as he tried to act casual. She took a step forward, wanting to relieve his pain in some way. Wanting to reach into Tristan’s chest and pull out all the anguish with her hands.
Their eyes locked on one another.
Tristan slowly shook his head, as if warning Scarlet not to draw attention to his pain. Because of their connection, Scarlet knew he could feel every emotion running through her.
But she could feel him too. Which was why she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “Yes,” Scarlet confessed. “Tristan is in pain.”
Tristan looked at her darkly.
Too bad, Tristan. You don’t get to pretend like you’re superman.
Nate swung confused eyes to Scarlet. “How do you know?”
Scarlet blinked. “Because I…I can feel him.”
Tristan’s jaw clenched.
“You can feel him?” Nate looked alarmed.
Scarlet nodded.
Uh-oh. Was that not normal?
Gabriel let out a strained exhale and rubbed the side of his face.
“Since when?” Nate asked.
Scarlet licked her lips. “Uh…for the last few months?”
Tristan looked at the floor as awkwardness bumbled around the room.
Being emotionally “connected” to your boyfriend’s twin brother didn’t make for comfortable group situations.
Or one-on-one situations.
Or any situations involving feelings…or sexual tension….
Tristan glanced at Scarlet.
Awkward.
Nate looked at Scarlet seriously. “You’ve never been able to feel Tristan in your other lives.”
“I haven’t?” Scarlet‘s eyes widened.
Ah. Now she understood Tristan’s warning. They were more connected than they were supposed to be and Tristan didn’t want to draw attention to that.
Oops.
“No.” Nate shook his head. “This is new. This is… strange. Your connection shouldn’t be so strong. Tristan should be able to feel you. But you feeling him? That’s not normal.”
Great. That’s what Scarlet needed. Another abnormality to add to her ever-growing list of Things-That-Make-Me-Weird.
Gritting his teeth, Tristan sucked in a strained breath. Scarlet felt another ripple of pain roll over him and it almost caused her knees to buckle.
How was he not screaming out loud?
“Something’s wron
g.” Nate looked at Tristan’s clenched teeth. “Even with a stronger connection to Scarlet, you shouldn’t be in pain when she’s this close to you.”
“I’m fine.” Tristan stretched his neck again. “Seriously.” He looked at Scarlet again, his green eyes deep and heavy.
Less than an hour ago, those green eyes had begged her not to die, begged her not to leave him as they washed over her face.
Those green eyes had secrets.
Another wave of pain assaulted Tristan and Scarlet’s lips parted in response.
Her heart kicked forcefully inside her, drawing her to him with every hot pulse. If she could just touch him, maybe all his torment would go away. If she could just press a fingertip to his cheek…or his chest…or to the dark tattoo he had hidden beneath his torn shirt. The tattoo that wrapped around his hip and dove below his waist….
Tristan glared at her.
Right.
Scarlet blinked herself out of his eyes and back to the present. Nate’s mouth hung open and his brows furrowed as he looked at Tristan.
Tristan snapped, “Quit staring at me, Nate. I’m fine.”
Nate squinted at Tristan. “Right.” He turned to Scarlet. “So back to you. You’re, uh…you’re alive.”
“Yep.” Scarlet nodded, still not believing she had died. “When did I…?”
“Like, five minutes ago.” Nate looked into the kitchen, where the table was covered in blood. “Your heart stopped beating and then all hell broke loose in the living room and then bam! you just…came back to life. So weird.”
Scarlet looked at the kitchen and felt sick. Blood was everywhere. On her dress, the table, the floor. Her bare feet were sticky with blood as she shifted her weight. “Are you sure I wasn’t just like…in a coma or something?”
“Oh, you were dead,” Nate nodded. “You didn’t have a pulse.”
Scarlet looked at her hands, turning her palms over. “Did my body vanish?”
“Nope.” Nate scratched the back of his head. “That’s why it’s so weird.” He looked at her eyes again. “How do you feel?”
“I feel…normal.” She watched Tristan roll his shoulders with his eyes closed. The muscles in his neck shifted beneath the movement.
Nate twitched his lips. “Hmm.” He went to the kitchen and returned with a small flashlight in his hands. Clicking it on, he started examining her irises, pulling at the skin beneath her eyes to get a better look.