Page 207 of Serpent In White

“I love you, snake eyes,” I whisper to him, shifting to watch his gaze with my mouth hovering over his.

“I love you, King Darian.” He presses his lips to mine, and we both hum.

“Always?”

“Infinitely always.”

When I eventually detach from the lustful hold of my Serpent, I head back out into the forest. The sun has since set and darkness surrounds me as I climb the mountain.

It’s calling to me.

And I must listen.

The walk from Drake’s cabin isn’t that long. Not when your feet glide you in the direction you’re needed, as if magnetized to a track just beneath the forest floor.

I barely even remember walking, the daze in me strong as it pulls me closer and closer. Between the trees I march, quiet and calm, the smell of my lover lingering on my skin, keeping me high as I reach the clearing.

And when I see it, it grips me; the empty space settled within a circle of tall trees.

My steps bring me into it, the crunch of leaves and pine needles beneath my boots the only inclination that someone is here.

My breathing goes shallow as I fall to my knees. Right in the center. Memories flood my mind, from the night months ago.

The sacrifice.

Rolling onto my back, I lie, with my arms at my sides, gaze on the starry night’s sky where it peeks through the trees, which become barren in the change of seasons.

With each thump of my heart, I’m pushed deeper and deeper into the ground.

My fingers sink into the dirt, feeling the pulse of the earth on their tips. Sucking in a long pull of oxygen, my eyes droop shut.

And I’m swallowed into the abyss.

Behind my eyes, I can see myself. Like a mirrored reflection. I’m watching myself where the forces hold me. On a bridge between two places.

A pop of color appears, out of place at this time of year. Green, vibrant and new, crawls up my arm.

Vines grow over my flesh, taking over my arms. Flowers bloom on my skin. The musky floral scent surrounding me, emanating.

My breathing is one with Mother, the space, the infinite call of the clearing oozing from my pores, where it’s housed deep inside me.

Inside of my soul.

And when my eyes fling open, the irises are black.

Stark, bottomless obsidian. Shiny and out of place, layered sediment of sheer evil and pure good.

We are balanced…

For the rock isme.

I am the rock.

we are the end.