Page 69 of Charmed, I'm Sure

All I can do is hold her through it. Be the rock to anchor her to this world. Clarissa was right, Bellamy doesn’t need someone to save her. Just someone to weather the storm with her.

Elora gasps as her head falls back, staring into the sky. We hold our breaths, unsure what’s going to happen.

When her eyes come down, they are fully white, no pupil in sight as that same sinister smile spreads across her face. The one she gave me when I broke through the fog.

In a voice entirely not her own, she says, “You did it. You broke the curse and finally, after three hundred years, the course of fate is corrected. You are both free.”

“At what cost,” Bellamy shouts, her voice raw and shredded.

The thing inhabiting Elora tuts. “Tsk, you know magic has a cost. Especially for a dark witch like yourself. There had to be a steep cost for the magic Ivora demanded. When she chose to defy fate and demand to live, magic gave her a choice, and told her the cost. She did it anyways.”

Its smile widens, too many teeth, too much hunger glowing in those white orbs. When its gaze snaps–straightthrough Elora, straight into us, I know that we are talking withThe Weaver. When it speaks again, the sound slithers across our skin like ice.

“Ivora. Elias. Pleasure spending time with you.”

The words hang in the air like smoke billowing over a dying fire before a shadow tears out of Elora’s body, leaving her convulsing, gasping like she’s drowning on air.

There’s only one thing it could have been…

The Weaver.

Chapter Twenty-Two

A Soul Rewoven

Miles

Bellamy collapses against me, her body trembling uncontrollably, as her soul shatters. I hold her as tight as I can, my arms locked around her like if I let her go even for a second, she will fall into a million broken shards. Her sobs slice through me—ragged, raw, and sharp. I press my face into her hair, whispering her name over and over, my own tears soaking into her skin.

“I’ve got you, Bellamy. I’ve got you, I promise,” I choke, rocking her back and forth. The words are all I have for her, even if they feel hollow and useless. There’s nothing I can say that will make her feel better. I can feel the storm tearing through her chest, but the words are all I have. My heart feels like it’s being ripped in two, one half with her pain, the other in the helplessness swallowing me whole.

The ground is still humming with the echoes of her power, the air has the ethereal energy lingering from The Weaver, but I can’t bring myself to care. The whole damn town could burn to the ground, the humans could show up with pitchforks, and I’d still be here, clutching the woman who fate keeps crushing with unbearable destinies.

If there was a way, any possible way, for me to follow The Weaver into his side of the veil, I would rip him apart with my bare hands for what he’s done to her. To steal from someone who has lived a life devoid of love, it goes beyonda mere familiar to her and steps into the world she’s grown accustomed to. It’s not fair.

And that’s when I feel it. A spark. A pulse. Something bright is brushing against the edges of our shared grief.

“Guys,” Elora says with a shaky voice.

At first I think it’s just Bellamy’s magic coming back with a vengeance, but when I lift my head, something is there. A glow, bright as midday sun, widening as it moves closer to us. My breath catches in my throat as the shape takes form—white paws, black nose, and a sleek body.

“Nyx?” Bellamy whispers, her voice trembling.

The familiar drifts closer, his fur no longer shadow-black. No, instead it shines bright like a thousand gems, his eyes a bright shimmering silver. He’s not the same as he was before. Something has changed, as if he was reborn. The constellations still twinkle along his fur, but now it feels more like a hopeful dream.

It’s in that instant, that one breath, that the world tilts back into its rightful place as Bellamy scrambles out of my arms, crawling across the dirt,not caring about the dirt or the leaves. No, the only thing she cares about is Nyx as she wraps her arms around him, pulling him tight against her chest.

Nyx’s silver eyes flick toward me, and for the first time in the entire time I’ve known him, there isn’t a glare coming my way. It’s softer, almost kindred, as if he has finally accepted me as part of this story. Not as an annoying side character, but maybe as the main guy.

If a fox could smirk, I swear he would be right now. That mischievous glint in his eyes, right as he wraps his paw around her back. Ever so slowly moving it up and down. Taunting me with his ability to be there for her right now.

“I see how it is,” I tsk, swiping a sleeve across my face. “You scared the hell out of her. Out of all of us.”

Bellamy still has her face buried in his fur, whispering his name over and over, but Nyx chooses that moment to flick his tail in my direction. I scoff. “Yeah, I get it. You’re back. Congratulations, fur ball.”

When her eyes finally meet mine, swollen and red from crying, I know right then that everything is about to change for us. Not because fate said so, but because life for us will no longer have this curse looming over our heads. Maybe, just maybe, Bellamy will let me in, let me love her like she deserves.

She gives me a soft smile, her lip still quivering from the emotions flowing through her. Reaching up I cup her cheek, swiping my thumb gently back and forth. She leans into it, allowing herself to enjoy the moment.