Chapter 70: 70

Eve’s POV

I didn’t let him see it.

The crack in my chest. The way the word bride had lodged itself in my ribs like a blade.

Instead, I laughed. Bright. Sharp. A little too loud.

“Finally,” I said, and before the grief could crawl up my throat and betray me, I lunged forward like a woman set free. “I’ll be going home. At last!”

Home.

I pushed everything else away, Rygar’s wedding, the imagined faceless bride, the stupid, traitorous ache blooming behind my sternum, and focused on the only thing that mattered.

The Blood Sea.

Skara had said it would take me back. Seven dips. Seven immersions.

Seven chances to forget him.

I ran before Garrick could catch me and try to change my mind.

Branches snapped under my boots as I rushed toward the water. My pulse thundered in my ears. My heart hurt, yes, but hope was louder. Hope was wild, reckless, and desperate.

Finally.

I didn’t hesitate.

I threw myself into the river.

Clothes and all.

The cold hit me first, harsh and biting, stealing the air from my lungs. The red water swallowed me whole. It slid into my sleeves, clung to my hair, soaked into my skin like it wanted to claim me.

I forced my eyes shut.

This is it.

I waited.

For the screech of a train on metal tracks.

For the distant hum of traffic.

For the vibration of a phone buzzing in someone’s pocket.

For the world, I understood.

For my world.

Nothing happened.

Only the distant cry of some creature in the forest.

I surfaced, sputtering slightly, heart racing.

Maybe it needed time.

Maybe I needed to do it properly.

Skara had said seven times.

Seven.

I dragged myself out of the river. My dress clung heavily to my body, water streaming down my legs. The red liquid dripped from my hair, staining the earth at my feet.

I didn’t look at Garrick.

I could feel him watching.

I stepped back into the river.

Second time.

The cold didn’t shock me as much now. I submerged completely, counted slowly in my head.

One.

Two.

Three.

Please.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

I came back up.

Still nothing.

Only wind.

Only trees.

Only this world.

My jaw tightened.

Again.

Third time.

In.

Out.

Nothing.

Fourth.

I told myself it was working. That may be the magic was subtle. Maybe it was building.

Fifth.

My movements became sharper.

More desperate.

Water filled my ears. My lashes clumped together. My fingers trembled.

Sixth.

I stayed under longer this time.

Long enough that my lungs burned.

Long enough that panic scraped at my ribs.

If this didn’t work…

No.

It had to.

I rose again, pushing wet hair from my face, breathing hard.

The forest stared back at me in silence.

Only the distant shriek of something unseen echoed through the trees.

And Garrick.

Leaning against a tree.

Arms and legs crossed.

Watching with that infuriating, knowing smirk.

One more!

Seventh.

I walked in more slowly this time.

The red water curled around my thighs. My waist. My chest.

I paused.

If this works… I leave.

If it doesn’t…

I don’t finish the thought.

I shut my eyes and let myself fall beneath the surface.

The river closed over me like a grave.

I waited.

For the rumble of trains.

For the ping of notifications.

For the world of glass buildings and bright screens and coffee shops and noise.

For home.

I counted 1-7 again

My lungs screamed.

Still nothing.

I burst back to the surface, gasping.

The sky above was the same bruised color.

The trees were the same.

The air smelled of iron and damp earth.

And Garrick…

Still there.

Still leaning against that tree.

Arms and legs crossed.

An amused smirk played on his lips.

I stood in the river, soaked to the bone, heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold.

It didn’t work.

I wasn’t going home.

I stood there. Dripping. Cold.

Staring at the red river like it personally betrayed me.

“I don’t understand,” I whisper.

My voice sounds small. Thin. Not like me at all.

“She said it would take me back home.”

“Your world, you mean?” Garrick says.

And he almost laughs. Almost.

My head snaps toward him.

“What are you laughing about?” I demand. Anger blazing in my heart.

He slowly pushes off the tree, unfolding his arms.

“I’m not laughing,” he says.

“You almost did.”

“Bad habit.”

I step out of the river, water squelching in my boots. My clothes cling to me like flies to honey.

“It was supposed to work,” I say, more to myself than to him. “Seven times. She said seven times.”

“Skara says many things.”

My chest tightens.

“She told me this would take me home.”

“Did she?”

My hands curl into fists.

“Why are you acting like this is funny?!” I snap. “Do you have any idea what this means?!” Tears threatened to fall down my face.

“Yes.”

“Oh? Enlighten me.”

He tilts his head slightly, studying me in that annoyingly calm way.

“Should I try sinking you myself?” he asks dryly. “Maybe that will work.”

“Excuse me?” I stare at him.

“I could hold you under,” he continues lightly. “Just in case you didn’t commit properly the first seven times.” The sarcasm drops like a blade.

“Garrick!”

He stops. His expression shifts, harder now. Sharper.

“I tried to tell you,” he says, voice cutting through the air. “Several times. But you would not listen!”

My stomach twists.

Anger flares again.

“I trusted her,” I fire back. “She knew things. She knew about my world.”

“Yes,” he agrees calmly. “She did.”

“So why would she lie?”

He steps closer.

“Because she benefits from you chasing illusions.”

My jaw tightens.

“If you are chasing a door that does not exist,” he continues, “you are easier to control.”

“She said…”

“She was trying to trick you. That's all she does.”

“No,” I shake my head. “No. She wouldn’t…”

“She would,” he interrupts quietly. “And she did.”

The anger drains.

What replaces it is worse.

Fear.

If this isn’t the way home…

If there is no way home…

My throat tightens painfully.

“If you are looking for a way back to your world,” he says evenly, “this is not it.”

My jaw drops before I can stop it.