Page 49 of Echos and Empires (After #3)

Desperation and longing colored her movements as she pulled back again, needing to see him, to absorb him into her memory and her skin and her soul.

“Will,” she said, his name tangled in her throat like a thread she couldn’t quite pull free.

The sound of it, spoken into the closeness between them, unraveled some of the disbelief she’d been carrying. “William.”

They stayed like that for a moment, suspended in the sweet unreality of the present, where everything else seemed to fade. Emma searched his eyes, seeking out the boy she loved in their depths. Her own tears made it hard to see, but the force of her need cleared the haze.

With each heartbeat, each second that passed without him disappearing, she felt the weight of his absence lifting from her shoulders. The fear that he might slip away grew smaller and smaller, and in its place was the solid assurance of him.

“I’m here. I’m here and I’m so damn sorry.”

“Say it again,” she whispered, her voice a soft demand, a tether that bound him to this moment with her.

His lips brushed hers, not quite a kiss, more like a promise. “I’m here, Emma,” William said again, giving her the only answer she needed.

Her breath tangled with his, their closeness defying the days and the darkness that had separated them.

Each word, each glance was a salve on the wounds of worry she’d nursed.

It seeped into her, deep and rich, painting over the doubts and turning them into nothing but shadows on the wall.

His presence was bright, blindingly so, and Emma let herself be dazzled, let herself be carried away by the light of him.

“I’m so damn sorry,” his voice broke then, the first time she’d heard him cry, too.

It was more real than anything else about him right now. “What did they do to you?” she asked softly, not sure she wanted to know.

He shook his head, silent, and the ache inside her deepened. He looked mostly fine on the outside, but she could tell he wasn’t here, not in the way she needed him to be. Emma rose, drawing a steadying breath.

“I want to be alone with him,” she told Chris, who gave her a nod before rounding up the others. She watched them go, then turned back to William, determination burning through the doubt. “I’m going to bring you back to me,” she said, more promise than threat. “You can apologize later.”

He sat hunched, fragile, words pouring out like spilled marbles. “Emma, I’m so sorry. I thought—” His voice cracked, and he rubbed his temples, lost and scared and achingly unfamiliar.

“You’re safe now,” Emma said, desperation bleeding into her words. She knelt beside him, touched his arm, and flinched at the jolt of cold. She didn’t pull away, even though the chill of his distance numbed her. “What happened, Will? It wasn’t that long, was it?”

He shook his head, avoiding her eyes, retreating into himself. Blond hair fell across his forehead in a way that made her heart squeeze. It was the only familiar thing about him right now. The rest of him was a stranger. A stranger she couldn’t lose, not like this.

She’d never seen him so unmoored, so absent from himself and her. This was William—the William who was always sure, always steady. Seeing him hollowed out by fear made her chest ache with a pain that was hard to bear.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he whispered, each word carrying the weight of a confession. “They said?—”

Emma pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him with a gentle but insistent touch. “It doesn’t matter now. We’re here. We’re together.”

“But—”

She couldn’t stand it. The way he looked, the way he sounded, as if they weren’t in the same world. She pushed back from the floor, straightening with a rush of resolve that stung like tears.

“Chris,” she called, her voice clear and certain. “I want to be alone with him. Can you guys clear out for a bit?” Emma held his gaze, not flinching, not blinking.

“Whatever you both need,” he said, not a command but a reassurance that they wouldn’t go far.

With a nod he turned to leave, the others following close.

Alex glanced between Emma and William, concern etching lines on his face.

Liam hung back, one hand on Ranger’s head, the other cradling a flashlight.

It was too bright, glaring and out of place, and Emma shielded her eyes against it.

Bash tugged on Liam’s shoulder, steering him away. The others fell into line, reluctant but trusting her to do what she needed. Their footsteps echoed off the cave walls, fading like ghosts.

And then it was just them.

Emma and William.

He was quiet now, his apologies swallowed by the weight of the silence.

It felt vast and empty, bigger than the cave itself.

Emma fought the urge to fill it with words that would never be enough.

Instead, she took a step closer, then another, until the space between them was so small she could almost forget it existed.

Almost.

“William,” she said, his name a tether she hoped would pull him back. “Listen to me.”

He looked up, and for a moment, she saw the boy she knew, the boy she loved. It made her breath catch, made her hope, made her move closer still.

“I’m going to bring you back to me,” Emma promised, the fierceness of it cutting through the doubt that threatened to choke her. “I don’t know what they did, but you’re not bleeding which means they went after your mind. And I will take it back.”

Her certainty wrapped around them, filling the air, charging it with a tension she could almost see. It crackled and snapped, pulling tight like a bowstring. The power of it was terrifying and beautiful, and it gave her strength.

His hands dropped to his sides, limp and resigned. “Emma,” he said, voice heavy with all the things he couldn’t say. “I’m not sure I?—”

She touched a finger to his lips again, but this time it was to feel the shape of them, to prove to herself that they were real and his and here. “We’ll get you there,” she said, soft but relentless.

Emotion surged inside her, too big to name, too tangled to contain. It poured out in a rush that caught them both off guard. “We’ll get us there,” she said, the truth of it ringing through the air like a bell.

She’d been afraid before, when the cave was an endless mouth threatening to swallow them whole. She was afraid now, but it was a different fear. One she could face head-on. One she could conquer, because it was for William, because it was for them.

Emma held his gaze, felt the heat of her own determination spilling into him, warming him, coaxing him back to life. He didn’t flinch this time. He didn’t pull away. He let it happen, let her happen, and the breath she’d been holding escaped in a rush.

“You can apologize later,” she said, a spark of wryness flickering in her eyes. “For now, you’re mine.”

The tension between them shifted, changed, melted into something else. Emma reached for him, and the final words she gave him were as much a promise as a threat.

“I’m not letting go.”

Emma undressed slowly, unbuttoning her doubt with each piece of clothing she shed.

She wanted this to be deliberate, wanted him to know that she was placing herself entirely in his hands.

Her shirt slipped from her shoulders like an old fear.

Her jeans followed, pooling around her feet, and she stepped out of them with an ease she hadn’t expected.

The chill of the cave bit into her skin, but it was nothing compared to the warmth she felt inside, a warmth she was determined to share.

William watched her, his eyes shadowed but not as dark as before, not as distant.

The closer she came, the more they brightened, the more they filled with hope and hunger.

Emma let him see everything she was—laid bare in body and in heart—let him see that she was his and he was hers and they would find their way back to each other.

“I’m here,” she whispered, her voice an echo of the promise he’d given her, an echo that resonated through the spaces between them, closing them off until there were none left.

William reached for her, his hands tentative, reverent.

The first touch sent a shiver through Emma, a shiver that chased away the last of the cold and left her breathless.

She leaned into it, into him, felt him steady beneath her and steadied herself against the newness of this old thing they’d always had.

She kissed him with a gentle urgency that only love could give.

Her fingers traced his jaw, his neck, mapping the contours of a homecoming she’d almost given up on.

The cave fell away until there was nothing but the heat of their intimacy, nothing but William, nothing but the warmth of his skin and the way it tangled with hers.

Emma locked eyes with him, and in that moment, she knew everything would be okay.

A silent understanding passed between them—a need for validation, for truth, for each other.

The world outside was distant, irrelevant, and Emma let it go, giving herself over to this moment, giving herself to William.

The kiss was a beginning, a rebirth, a renewal. It tasted like them, like love, like forever. Her fingers threaded through his hair, and the contact was electric, sparking along her skin like an exposed wire.

The need that had driven her, the need that had consumed her, simmered just beneath the surface. It was patient now, tempered by the knowledge that they had time, tempered by the way William looked at her like she was his whole world.

They broke apart, breathless, and Emma pressed her forehead against his. The intimacy of the gesture making her heart lurch in her chest, making it impossible for her to hold back the words that came next. “I was so scared.”

William’s fingers trailed down her arms, leaving a path of warmth in their wake. “I was, too.”