Imposter

Chapter 35

Wesley was alone, and maybe he deserved to be alone. He was broken and nothing could put him back together.

Death clung to him like a leech, erasing the boy who had once been and the man that could have been. He would never get to touch another human being again. He would never get to run his hands along the silky back of a cat, or ruffle a dog's ears.

He would never be able to accept another hug.

His body had been become his cage, and it had all been for nothing.

If Nixen had any sense, he would turn him away. It was what his parents had done to Nixen so many years ago, right?

When he'd needed someone to protect him, they'd abandoned him.

Wesley rubbed his eye, his bottom lip quivering. He hadn't gotten to say goodbye to Gracie. She would be furious at their parents for making him leave.

They had at least drawn him a crude map of where Nixen and Uncle Travis had last been living, and he had been following it for at least a week now.

He mainly stuck to the forest, not wanting to come across any strangers.

The closer he thought, the more afraid he became. If they rejected him, he had no one. It had been years since he had last seen his cousin.

Back then, Nixen had been vibrant and kind. He was happy-go-lucky and eager to please everyone and help out in any way he could.

He was always smiling, always looking out for everyone.

But that had been before Wesley's parents had shunned him. He'd been betrayed in a terrible way and maybe he had grown callous to protect himself.

He was so gentle and kind, and if his spark had died because of what they did, Wesley would never forgive them.

He would never forgive himself for not once reaching out, even when he got older.

Wesley looked down at his map, his hand trembling slightly. If he hadn't taken a wrong turn, he should arrive at the house in another day and a half.

When he came to a fork in the path, his feet carried him to the opposite direction of where he needed to be going.

He didn't stop until he reached the edge of the cliff, staring down. Down below the ravine was nothing but rocks.

Wesley slowly slid his bag off his shoulders, biting his lip as he inched forward.

I have already beaten Death.

He could die on his own terms. That couldn't be considered losing.

Inhaling deeply, Wesley spread his arms out and turned around. Facing the skies, he fell.

********

Nix woke up from a dream he was lying on a forest floor, bound and gagged.

He could sense a presence by his door, and it was probably the thing that had woke him up in the first place.

"What do you want?" he asked, staring at the wall.

The person shuffled closer, each footstep causing his heart to thump faster. "You weren't at breakfast today," Zyler said. "Just making sure you're okay."

"I had a late night." Nix rubbed his wrist where the duchess had tied him to the bedpost, closing his eyes.

It was probably the reason why he'd had that dream. Each time, he tried telling them he didn't like the ropes.

They always ignored him.

"You can tell them no, Nix," Zyler said softly.

"No, I can't."

"If you let them know you're being serious, they'll listen," Zyler said, sitting down on the bed and resting a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay to stand up for yourself every now and then. We're real people with real feelings, even if the world might try to tell us otherwise."

"I chose this and now I have to live with it." Nix rolled over on his back, throwing his arm over his forehead and staring up at Zyler.

"I don't think you believe that," Zyler said, his lips drawn down in a frown. "That you chose it, I mean."

Nix looked away, focusing on Caelie lingering in the door.

"Anyway, I brought you something," Zyler said, clearing his throat and picking a bag up off the floor. "Here."

Nix sat up in bed, his lips parting as he took the gift. "What? Why? For me?"

"A little apology for that wrestling match," he admitted. "Open it."

"You didn't have to—"

"Nix." Zyler gave him a pointed look. "Open it."

Letting out a shaky laugh, Nix tugged at the loose bow wrapped around the brown paper, peeling it aside.

It was a set of pencils and a plain sketchbook.

"I noticed when you first arrived, you would draw in your free time," Zyler said, looking uncomfortable. "I hadn't seen you do it in a while, but. . .you were good. Keep it up."

He'd run out of supplies, and just hadn't bothered to pick up more. Inspiration had fled him, and he didn't bother to chase it down again.

Maybe sketching would lift his mood.

"Thanks," he said. "That means a lot."

"Also, I told Caelie you were drawing me first, so. . .I'm ready when you are."

Nix threw his head back, laughing. "I'd have to charge for that."

"What if I undressed?" Zyler offered, his eyes twinkling.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," Nix said, shaking his head. "Plus, I don't sketch people."

Zyler nodded, growing serious again. "Well, it was worth a shot," he said, giving him a smile and nodding to the package in his hand. "We all have things we do to distract ourselves and escape from reality. I hope it helps."

"Yeah," Nix said, his smile fading. "Me, too."

Zyler managed a sad smile, leaning forward and pressing a fleeting kiss against Nix's forehead. "I will cover for you tonight," he said softly. "Tell them no, let them know you mean it, and I will take your place."