Breaking Free (BXB)

Chapter 29-Love and Peace

I stared blankly at the blood trailing down my arms. Twisting my hands around, I watched the red streams drip off the edge of my thumb, a small droplet of red slithering down the drain. The water pounded heavily against my chest, a rhythm of taps reminding me that I didn't die. That I lived, even at such a huge cost. I wasn't sure if I was happy about that, but the arms encircling me, holding me together and breaking me apart all at once reminded me that even if I wasn't happy about having lived, Owen was, and maybe that was enough. For now at least.

My left arm thudded dully with the pounding of the water. Even now the cat in me was stitching me together, pulling together bone and healing veins and muscles and flesh. They would have to inspect my shoulder and back later, but for now, I wasn't worried about it. Taking in a deep breath I let my mind cloud with the scent of Owen. It was pine and old books and love, whatever that meant. I could feel it itching at the bottom of my chest and creeping into my heart. My mind had pushed the thought of it so far out that I hadn't even noticed I was falling in love with the sweet, complicated boy behind me till I was already too far in love to do anything about it. Maybe that's how love worked. No one really knows they're in love until there's no going back. It could probably be pinned down to survival instincts or whatever, but I thought it was kind of romantic.

Steam swirled around me, clouding my vision, but for once my mind felt clear. I couldn't quite understand what I was feeling, it was so subtle and powerful and wonderful and terrible that I almost didn't want to understand it, just bask in its deep warmth and gentle touch. Tapping his fingers against my chest, Owen hummed, the feeling vibrating through my body. Taking in a deep breath, he prepared to speak, but then he stopped and rested his chin on my head.

"What?" I whispered, my voice croaky and sore, turning myself around in his arms to look up at him. His eyes were melting and sad and happy all at the same time. They sparkled warmly, and I felt a calm wash over me. He smiled down at me, flashing a dimple at me that I had never noticed before. Then he leaned down, hesitating only for a split second before he kissed me on the forehead.

"You're thinking so hard I can hear you."He murmured. My cheeks burned as I turned my head away from him. Softly, gently, Owen grabbed my chin and turned me to face him. Our eyes met and I felt something click inside me. "What were you thinking about?" He asked, his thumb grazing my chin softly. The corners of my mouth turned up and I felt my heart swell.

"You," I whispered and I saw a smirk form on his face. "And me," I breathed, tracing little patterns on his chest. Owen's eyes turned dark and his smile slipped into something a little bit less teasing. Among the darkness swirling in his dark brown eyes, sparkled a little bit of mischief and a little bit of joy.

"Does that mean-"I held up my finger to his lips. I wasn't done yet.

"And love." I murmured and I felt Owen suck in a breath. His entire body went rigid and I tensed, nerves fluttering around in my stomach like someone had let loose a swarm of birds in there. The water pounded against us, and I could hear it pool at our feet. All of a sudden I noticed our bodies, flush against each other, completely vulnerable. A bird sang somewhere nearby, the lilting tune peaceful and happy.

"Milo," Owen breathed, his voice low and soft. His hands moved to cup my face gently and I leaned into the soft warmth of his palms. "Did you just..."Owen trailed off, his voice awed. Opening my mouth to speak I found my voice had been stolen, by nerves or this thing called love, I wasn't sure. So I just nodded. The biggest, brightest smile I had ever seen split Owen's face, and he pulled me into a kiss, our lips slowly moving against one another. Slow, gentle, like the world was fragile and if we moved any faster it would break and this would turn out to be a dream.  Even if it was a dream, it would've been a good dream. A really, really good dream. Smiling into the kiss, I tugged gently at the loose, wet curls hanging at the nape of his neck. Owen sighed into the kiss and pulled me closer to him as our lips molded to one another, creating one story, sharing one emotion, one thought. So this was love. I liked it quite a bit. Owen squeezed me to him one last time before he pulled away, breathless and grinning like an idiot, and I was sure I looked the same.

"I love you, too." I could've sworn at that moment my heart burst, it was so full. However cheesy it might seem, I could die happy at this very moment. Even with a war raging outside, a sword that seemed to corrupt my very being, friends who were missing or possibly dead and a decision that would decide the fate of the world, I was happy.  Cut and bruised and damaged to almost being unrecognizable, I was happy. Call me selfish or oblivious or whatever else you wanted to, I was really, really happy. With Owen, I was the happiest I had ever been. I had a world to save, but that could wait till another day. That could wait till our stolen moment away from the world was over. It could wait till our I love you's turned from a rarity to routine. I wanted one moment before our I love you's stopped meaning hello and started meaning goodbye. Just one moment alone with the boy I love.

I jumped in surprise when the bathroom door shot open and the shower curtain was torn back. Sera stood there, a jagged scar at least three inches long healing on her cheek, dark circles under her eyes, and a cane at her side that she leaned on heavily. Her hair was wild and unkempt and her eyes were wide. Shock flooded my system, and I gripped Owen's hand tightly. We hadn't jumped apart when she'd walked in, and I couldn't help but wonder what that meant.

"You guys need to come this." She gasped, breathing heavily, her entire body conveying urgency. Then she glanced down. Then up, then she jumped away with a shriek, her face bright red. "Get dressed first." She grumbled, covering her eyes as she edged her way out of the bathroom." Glancing at each other, I felt laughter bubble in my chest, and Owen smiled down at me as I laughed before his lips twitched and he joined in.

After Owen turned off the faucet, we stepped out, pulling on the pairs of sweatpants he had brought in. As the steam cleared out of the room and my skin began to tingle from the hot water, I heard a voice I recognized. One I knew and loved. My eyes widened, and Owen turned to face me. Could it really be who I thought it was?

Racing out of the bathroom I followed the sound of his voice all the way to the room I had found myself in when the old woman first brought me there. And lying on the floor, filthy and wide-eyed and yelling from fear and confusion and paranoia, was my dad, standing next to an emotionless Farouk, who disappeared a second later.

"Dad!" I cried, running over to him. His eyes widened when he saw me, then softened. Scooping him into my arms, I could feel myself breathing a sigh of relief. He was safe. For now. I could feel him sobbing into my shoulder, and I squeezed him tightly, never wanting to let go. I had him. He was here and we were ok, pretty beaten up, but ok. Trying to pull away from him, he clenched down on my arm, so tight I was sure it was going to break again. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body swayed back and forth. Crying out in pain I tried to pry myself from his grip. 

Then the world began to swirl and form new shapes and places and people and suddenly I was standing beside Owen and the gang, a body lying at our feet, covered in blood as we stared at an oncoming horde of men, all in the uniform of the hunters. A form stood at the front. I could barely make out what they looked like, but when they pointed towards us, the army moved. All at once, and with a bone-rattling battle cry, they charged towards us, seeking vengeance for their fallen comrades.

Seeking my blood.

End of Book One