The Rapture

THIRTY-ONE

PEARL

My heartbeat thumped like a drum in my chest.

François followed Shadrach. I could understand why she didn't want to be my referee anymore. It was high time for me to own up to what I had done and face the music. With my head between my knees, I counted down the minutes, inhaling the crisp subterranean air.

Hopefully, it won't be that bad. Right?

I hugged my legs. The wind must have picked up outside—all I could hear was my breath, my heartbeat, and the tinkling of icicles stirring in the breeze. I tried to remain calm, but it was hard.

The council was coming, not only that, but the Elders. Regardless of my bravery when I charged at things head-on, I was petrified. And this wasn't even bravery. This was stupidity.

I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard somebody enter the cave. I didn't even have to look to see who it was—I knew who it was. Even though I was trying to have courage, to think clearly, and to own up to my stuff, I was still a coward.

A coward because I couldn't look at him.

But oh, how his lovely smell surrounded me, making me feel safe, as if a part of me had been missing. My fingers twitched to reach for him, but I kept them still.

"Pearl?"

His voice resonated through the cave, crawling under my skin like ants. Or maybe that was just my apprehension. His tone wasn't angry. It wasn't anything, actually. When I didn't respond, I felt him approach, his aura nipping at the back of my neck, leaving gooseflesh.

Shit, how I wanted to turn around, throw my arms around him, and kiss him. Squeeze myself to him. Promise to never make him worry again.

"It is time to go. It is over."

I stiffened.

I kept my eyes on the floor as I stood, shoulders hunched. Tears slid down my cheeks as I hung my head. I didn't even know where to start. I missed him so much. My heart felt like it was going to splinter into pieces being this close to him without touching.

I ran away from him. Ran away from him and threw myself on a doomed planet in protest of his council, and for what?

Nothing.

His voice was heavy with concern. "Are you harmed?"

"No, I'm fine, Dumuzi. I don't even know what to say, or how to say it. Just know that I am so so–"

"Sorrys mean little in the face of death and politics. For the rest of the evening, it would be best if you were not to speak. Your world may depend on it. Your freedom may depend on it as well."

Freedom?

I recoiled as if he had slapped me. The tone of which he spoke was ice-cold, straight-to-the-chase, and hollow. He had never talked to me like that before; as if I were an insubordinate child, not his soulmate.

Frowning, I puffed out my lips and took in a ragged breath. "I understand I messed up. But why are you being so—?"

"Leave your things here. The council awaits. I will be behind you."

I met his eyes and my breath stalled in my throat. I expected him to be angry, not... this.

This was worse.

This was way fucking worse.

His eyes were two dark chips of amethyst. His face? Distanced and cold. I had never seen him like this. I wanted to run away from him–run away from my problems, away from his rejection, just like all the other times when I couldn't face something impossible.