Black Moon Draw(53)

“How often are we given a chance to make a difference?” she challenges. “My life before Black Moon Draw was miserable! I hated my job, my life, the fact I didn’t matter to the man I thought I loved. I was dead inside.”

Her story sounds too familiar. My hands are growing clammy, my pulse quickening.

“I wanted it to change, and it did. You wouldn’t be here, if you weren’t looking for something else. Something bigger than you. A reason to matter, a way to make a difference and feel alive for once.”

“You think I asked for this?”

“I did. Maybe you did, too.”

“That’s impossible. I. . .” was drunk. I have no idea what I might’ve wished for, but I know I was desperate, heartbroken, and miserable. “But you . . . you got chopped down, along with your husband,” I manage. “How is that living?”

“Those few short months meant more to me than the rest of my life up until that point. I would’ve rather had my Shadow Knight as a husband for an hour than never at all.”

There’s a lump forming in my throat. As in the previous dream where I saw her die, I envy the depth of her emotion and conviction. I’ve never let myself feel so passionately about anything in my life, and it tugs on the part of me that thinks she makes more sense than my parents and the guidance counselors in college combined.

She had a man who loved her inside and out for half a day before they both died, and I’m envious of those short hours. It’s crazy.

Clearing my throat, I look away. “So he’s the Hero of this book.”

“Maybe.” Her intensity eases and she cracks another infectious smile. “Or maybe you’re the Hero and this is your story. You wanted a journey and a chance to live a better life. This is it.”

That can’t be. I started reading this book online before it sucked me in. It’s definitely not the kind of place I’d choose to go for a new start.

For reasons I can’t understand or accept, I might be destined to be here. The thought is nauseating . . . exhilarating . . . beyond belief.

“You could spend years with the man you love exploring the flower covered valleys of Gold Spur Sky or sail the dark seas of Black Moon Draw. This is your world, your home, your fate,” she adds.

“No! There must be a way home.” The last of my resistance, driven by the frantic idea of never going to another Starbucks or seeing my mother again, is in its last, desperate throes.

“Trust me. There’s not.”

“There was a way here!” I cry and begin looking around wildly again. “I want to see my mother again and my cats!”

“Before you have a panic attack, let me tell you a couple of things,” she continues. “First, the Heart is unlocked. You had to pass a trial first and give your life for the Shadow Knight before its magic would be accessible to you. There is a way to visit your home but not return permanently, but you’ll have to dig up my old diary, if it exists after a thousand years.”

She’s managed to deflate my concerns with the simple explanation. But the idea I’m meant to fall in love with the Shadow Knight? “I told you. I didn’t give my life for him. I just . . . figured this made more sense!” I struggle with an explanation, realizing my actions hadn’t necessarily been logical. I feared for his life and don’t want to admit what that might mean – that some part of me cares enough about him to throw myself off a building. “I can’t stand the sight of blood and I’m definitely not in love with him. Why do you think I’m the right person for this job at all?”

“Because you didn’t jump at the idea of visiting your home.”

Son of a bitch. My jaw goes slack. She’s right. I heard the words without being seized by the urgency I experienced when I first arrived to Black Moon Draw.

“You have a reason to stay, and some part of you knows that,” she adds.

Sure, I’m attracted to the Shadow Knight, and I really do think he’s a noble – if barbaric – man with a cause that makes my pitiful life before Black Moon Draw appear even more meaningless.

Is she right? Do I secretly want to stay? “So there is a way home?”

“No. I was testing you.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure I like this woman anymore or the trickle of relief I experience knowing I don’t have to choose whether to save a kingdom – and its sexy ruler – or go back to my boring life.

“Second, keep him alive,” she goes on, unaware of my inner turmoil. “The Desert Knight is his biggest threat. He must defeat the kingdoms and then face the curse with you at his side. The curse should lift, once the past has been righted. I don’t want you to watch him die the way I saw my husband fall. You can do better than I did. You won’t fail.”

That jars me, along with the sorrow of her tone. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for you helping me out,” I say. “He’s sexier than any other man in any world I’ve been forced to enter, yes, but there can be nothing between us. And I can’t . . . fathom the idea of this story being created for me. I can’t be the Heroine.”

“I was in denial for a while, too.”

My head is about to explode. I take a deep breath. “Look, I’ve never been special. Or lucky. Or even really good at anything. I’m a nobody. Heroes are somebodies. They’re brave and noble and . . .” I sigh. “They’re not me. My own family thinks I’m a loser! How can this whole world exist for me?”