Burnt Devotion

Burnt Devotion by Rebecca Ethington Page A

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Authors: Rebecca Ethington
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new hallway, only to freeze with the tap of my converse against the stone floor.
    “Wynifred?”
    It was Talon’s voice. I was sure of it. His deep gruff was so familiar, yet there was still an undertone of joy, like he was always ready to laugh at the world.
    “Wynifred?” It came again.
    I spun to face it on instinct, the sound of rubber soles against stone loud in my ears.
    I had thought the Tȍuha was empty, that he had left me. Could I possibly be wrong?
    I needed to find him
    The tap of my sneakers was loud as I cautiously moved toward the sound, waiting for it to come again, rejoicing when it did.
    “Wynny?” It was louder, more joyous.
    And I ran.
    I didn’t question it. I didn’t wonder if I was only following the voice into a nightmare, if my darling girl would be there. I simply ran, my heaving breaths mixing with tears I hadn’t realized I had been shedding, the chilled air flying past me as I fled from the laugh.
    “Wynifred?”
    I turned another corner and froze, the stone hallways dissolving to smoke and light as the Tȍuha mutated into the familiar courtyard, into the open space I had spent so much time in. The space I had chosen to live in.
    It was as cloudy here as it had been inside the hallways. The normally warm sun was shrouded by the grey clouds that hung low above us, as though they would drop down and enclose us in their damp chill. The bricks seemed lifeless, and the trees sagged under a sadness I didn’t understand. It made no sense, for standing right in the middle of all of it, looking as well and joyous as I had always known him, was Talon with his face spread into the widest grin I had ever seen him have.
    “Wyn,” he gasped, his voice the same as always, his large arms reaching out to me.
    “Talon?”
    I ran across the courtyard to him, slamming against him as his arms enveloped me and pressed me against the barrel of his chest. I could feel his hot breath against my neck and the tips of his fingers as they pressed into my sides. I could smell the woodsy smell of his skin.
    It was him.
    It was him as he chuckled. It was him as he pressed his lips against my neck, and yet…
    I knew it couldn’t be.
    “Talon?” I asked again as he reluctantly released me. My frame was tiny against his as I looked up to him, grateful when his large, warm hands stayed against my skin. “What’s going on?”
    The joy in Talon’s face sagged at the question, the light behind his dark eyes dimming a bit.
    I tensed at his reaction, almost expecting the laugh to filter through the courtyard.
    “What are you asking?”
    Like an off key note in a Styx cover, something was bothering me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but the more I looked at him, the more my panic grew.
    “Why are you here?” My voice faltered a bit at the question, and the pieces fell into place as the image of him standing behind the clouded veil came to me, the sad half smile he had given me as I made my choice.
    “This is our Tȍuha, Wynny.”
    Panic spouted at his words. What I had perceived to be a lie dug at me, bringing back the pain and denial I had only so recently escaped.
    This wasn’t a Tȍuha. It couldn’t be. Not after his death, not after the choice I had made. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but I had given this up. This life, this beautiful place that linked me so closely to my mate, to him—it was gone now.
    “No.” His face fell, and I regretted the sternness in my voice at once. It was not like I had meant it, but it wasn’t, not anymore. “I chose to live.”
    “You did,” he said succinctly, as if commenting on his distaste in my choice of music.
    The response only added to my confusion more, and I was positive it showed on my face, for Talon chuckled the same as he always had while his hands ran down my arms as the cool air moved around us. His smile grew as he led me to the same bench we had sat on for more than a century of shared consciousness.
    “Then how…?” The words barely

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