Autumn Storm (The Witchling #2)(34)

He had one more important thing to do before his brother declared war on him for killing innocent witchlings. Decker wiped his face, dried off quickly then dressed in dark clothing. He’d wanted to visit the cliff all day to honor Summer, only to have his efforts disturbed by call-outs and a certain blond girl that kept appearing at all the wrong times. If Bartholomew was right about the Darkness coming for him, there wouldn’t be another anniversary. He had to go tonight.

Decker materialized on the cliff. His eyes went first to the disturbed snow where he’d found the blond girl earlier in the day, spouting nonsense about second chances and flat out defying him. His gaze followed the footsteps that led her from the forbidden corridor to the cliff. Her cane made little holes in the snow, and he dwelled upon how strange it was that the girl who stood up to him was the most fragile of anyone he’d met.

Small and slender, her blue eyes arrested him the first time he saw them. There was something soulful there, the knowledge of what it was to feel pain deeper than life. Her body was toned despite her injuries and the pronounced limp. She wore her blond curls down, and they framed her heart-shaped face. Pillowy lips, delicate features …

The desire in his blood burned hot again at the memory of her spirit. The blond girl hadn’t melted at his seduction magick. She’d known she was in danger this night and dared him to walk away. She’d been sharp but also innocent, her blushes and timid kiss convincing him she’d probably never been with anyone.

After Summer, he wasn’t about to be the first for anyone else. He was purposely not thinking about how the blond girl’s touch quieted the clamor of his head and repelled the Darkness. What he felt now didn’t matter. He’d taken another step towards the Darkness, one he didn’t think it was possible to recover from.

Decker fingered the delicate ring he wore next to his amulet. He’d given the promise ring with a pink sapphire to Summer the day before she died. Guilt and sorrow filled him. Today was supposed to be about Summer, and he was thinking about – no, desperate to claim! – another girl.

If only he hadn’t returned to find her where he stood now, slumped over her cane. The shadows told him how much pain she was in. She wasn’t going to make it back to the school by herself. She pissed him off – and intrigued him. Every interaction with her left his body humming with awareness.

His mistake was carrying her back to the school. Holding her against him opened a connection between them that compelled him to stay when he should’ve left. He admired her ability to master her mind. It made him want her more.

That kiss…

Anger replaced his guilt. Anger at Summer, at himself, at the fragile blond girl that called out his weakness.

She’s Beck’s, he told himself again, not wanting to be interested in any girl for more than physical pleasure. He didn’t want to remember the girls he took to bed with him. He’d been trying desperately to replace the memories of his nights with Summer.

The more girls he slept with, the stronger his memories of Summer. The release the women gave his body was too temporary, and they did nothing to quell his mind, like Summer had. He’d had an oasis with her, a place where the chorus in his head was silent.

Like he did when he kissed the blond girl. He’d be able to lose himself in her like he did Summer.

Bartholomew spoke. You will only hurt this other girl like you did Summer.

He was right. Ashamed at disrespecting Summer on the anniversary of the day she died, Decker crouched at the edge of the cliff and stared at where she’d fallen. He could still see her there mentally, her broken body, the blood.

Summer was sweet, innocent, beautiful. The love in her dark eyes had made him feel like a king, and her touch subdued the part of him he no longer controlled. What would she think if she saw him killing, sleeping around, fantasizing about the blond girl, drinking and doing drugs to make it through the day?

“I never deserved you, Summer,” he whispered hoarsely. “Everything I touch turns Dark, even you. I’m so sorry.”

Decker closed his eyes. There was no second chance for him, despite what the blond told him. What did he do, when the girl meant to be his mate was dead? It was his fault she’d died. He’d live with that knowledge the rest of his life, unless he surrendered to the madness to save himself and others. It was for the best; it was the only way to avoid the pain he’d cause everyone.

Yes, Bartholomew’s voice agreed.

Decker sensed the sudden arrival of his brother’s Light magick and tensed.

“I thought you’d be here tonight.”

“Leave me alone, Beck,” he said quietly.

“Her death was my fault, too.”

Decker opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder at his twin. Beck was dressed warmly. He glowed in the night, his Light magick creating a halo around his body.

“You didn’t push her off the cliff,” Decker snapped.

“I didn’t protect her from you, either. That’s my duty, Decker. I didn’t do it, and she died.”

Decker ‘s eyes settled on the spot where Summer landed in the canyon.

“You’re out of control,” Beck added.

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

“Can you just give me tonight?” Decker snarled.

There was a pause. He sensed Beck hesitate.

“Please, Beck,” he added, a raw note in his voice. “We can fight in the morning.”