With my heart still racing, I tried to calm myself down by counting my breaths. We were walking back to the group with hurried steps. Reagan wanted all of them to know that we needed to go into town to restock our supplies and be on our way immediately after. I wasn't sure what the hurry was about and hadn't bothered asking. Something in my gut told me that he wouldn't answer.

He'd changed back into his stoic self and was a million kilometers away by now, even though his body was standing right beside mine and I could still feel his physical warmth engulf me like a comfortable blanket.

"We must gather supplies now in Irima. They won't be very welcoming, just give them enough money and you'll get what you need. We have another two days trip, after that, everything you want will be provided for", Reagan announced in a diplomatic voice, void of the warmth our bond covered me in.

It made it harder to enjoy that warmth fully, but I knew that it was something I was going to need to get used to. He reminded me a little of Emmet. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing being diplomatic in matters that did not require any real emotion.

I just couldn't really imagine that being very easy. Could normal people turn off their emotions that effortlessly?

"Where are we going after that?" Debrova asked. Her sister Leana sat beside her, both nearly identical. Debrova was a pretty woman. Especially her doe-brown eyes contrasted strongly with her light blonde, almost white hair.

Reagan did not look at her and instead turned to listen if his brothers were coming. I too could hear their footsteps on the forest floor, slowly coming closer.

"Doesn't really make a difference if I tell you, you won't know it anyway", he said cooly and it took me off guard that he wasn't just diplomatic but downright rude.

Why wouldn't he look at her?

"Okay", she muttered, offended, and I could feel her discomfort and Reagan's indifference.

There was another emotion that passed through my ocean—one that made those malicious flowers of doubt sprout again.

Reagan felt contempt towards Debrova and for the life of me, I could not even begin to imagine why he would feel that way.

I thought for a moment about touching his mind and asking him through the Promised Link, but I refrained from taking that liberty.

We'd just returned to semi-normality from kissing each other—going from that intimacy to being this distant to going back to being intimate felt like a whirlwind of emotions that I couldn't live through.

I was barely managing to keep the storm at bay. Having one emotion cloud the other and be sniffed out and brought back to life again...

The commotion of that was bound to cause a ripple that would create waves. Waves meant emotions from my ocean crashing against the shore. And right now, the only shore that needed to be touched was my own. My emotions needed to stay inside. Homebound.

Shaking my head, I shook away the thoughts of taking that step and instead stuck with just wondering why he didn't like Debrova.

They'd barely ever spoken to one another. I hadn't even been sure if Reagan so much as acknowledged her existence. Maybe he was just generally rude to people he didn't need anything from...

That thought did not calm me down the least and I realized quickly when my ocean started to react that I was only beginning to wind myself up by overthinking again.

Reagan's words replayed in my mind then.

You overthink. Just feel. Turn off your head and let your heart take over.

The memory of his soft words, his deep voice and the feel of his warmth around me instantly relaxed my muscles and calmed my heartbeat down to a steady thump. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and listened to the rhythmic beat that silently hummed through my body like a purring engine.

Although I didn't physically open my eyes, I opened my heart to all the emotions that were sucked into my core.

The offense, coming in the shape of a lance. A cracked mirror, which must have been the shape of Reagan's contempt.

And there was a third form.

Two hands with outstretched, slightly curved fingers.

It was an emotion I'd never felt before. And it was an emotion I could not name because I did not know what it was.

☼

Our Shrinking Bags were strapped around our backs in our human skin. Leana had fashioned each of us a cloak, one that had a hood we pulled down into our faces. It reminded me of the figure that had attacked Emmet and me back at home in Everett Valley. The Innik, a magic-wielding immortal, who Dante had managed to kill on our way here.

Still, albeit I knew the Innik was no longer walking Espheros, the memory made my skin crawl. Now, we were a group of cloaked strangers in a foreign village that wasn't known to be welcoming. We didn't exactly look very friendly, either. There was a sense of security though, hiding my face behind the dark-grey fabric of Leana's cloak. I felt mysterious and dangerous at the same time. My opponent couldn't see anything about me and would therefore have nothing to pass judgment on. The cloak gave me more security than I would expect a piece of clothing capable of.

Kendra walked next to me, her hands dug deep into her Shrinking Bag. I wondered what it was she was looking for, but quickly focused back to the houses that came closer with each step we took. It was more a ruin than what I'd imagined it to be. I would have thought Irima to be a blooming village with merchants and foreigners trading about. When Dante said they weren't welcoming... I still wouldn't have imagined a dead, dark place smelling of loneliness and rotting fish. Most of the wooden houses were built on top of the water, with hanging bridges stretching from one house to the next. The weathered planks used to build the entire village were rotting too, and falling apart. A lot of bridges were barely attached to the thick ropes that had once carried them.

"I'd say we'll blend in fine," Jaxxon commented.

I grunted in response. "We look just as shady as this place does."

"This used to be a wealthy trading spot where fishermen were considered rich," Ryker explained then, having spoken aloud in front of everyone for the first time in a while. I hadn't been around much to observe his recovery and the entire aftermath of the Keeth Dust that the traitors had used on him.

It made Reece's anger and frustration that much harder to deal with because he was right beyond all doubt. I hated myself even more that it needed Reece to be so furious with me to realize how my behavior had impacted everyone around me. I'd been so preoccupied with myself that everyone else had fallen short.

I had been so proud of myself for owning up to Dante and apologizing for how I had manipulated his and Kendra's bond. Now, that pride seemed pathetic to have had. Even only an ounce of it.

I should have minded my own business. Should have accepted whatever Kendra had wanted to do and supported her decision. Instead, I'd driven her away.

Instead, everyone was mad at me. Now, even I was mad at myself.

Sulking, I pulled my hoodie deeper down my face so the only thing I could see were my feet. I didn't even notice I had been walking slower than the rest and had fallen behind until I felt someone else's presence right beside me. Looking up, I noticed it was Dante.

My throat clogged up and my heart began to race.

"What's going on?" he asked plumply, catching me completely off guard. What did he even mean?

"You. Sulking here all over the place. I doubt I'm the only one who feels like shit right now without an apparent reason."

His directness overwhelmed me slightly, although it was a refreshing trait at the same time. He was not one to beat around the bush like I tended to do.

"I'm not sulking," I said in a small voice.

"Stop acting like a whiny child. Stand your ground. You've got more in you than you realize."

With wide eyes I turned and stared at him. The sincerity in his changed something between us.

Something about the way he spoke and expectantly looked at me pumped courage into my soul. But why was Dante doing this? What did he gain from it?

Narrowing my eyes at him, he read my suspicion as if I were an open book. Dante shook his head, as if disappointed by my distrust. He couldn't possibly be talking to me like this without wanting something in return. There was always a hidden agenda. He had no reason to like me. To want to help me in any way. I had done nothing to him but interfere in something I should have stayed far, far away from. He had every reason to dislike me. To hate me...

"If my promised had been anyone else, I probably would have continued to hate you. But I have this annoying gut feeling to mend things with you and this confusing want to understand you."

Dante began to struggle then, internally, with the emotions that went through him as he explained his intentions. "Kendra and my soul have connected in ways I couldn't have imagined. I can feel her fill me out. She's—I don't know—"

Dante stumbled over his words then and that's when I started to understand.

"Kendra's softness needed your edges just as much as your hardened heart needed her warmth. Your soul is now whole, just as hers is. You are the way you were always meant to be and so is she."

I felt strange saying that out loud but it dawned on me how truly hypocritical I had been for so long. How could I have not realized this earlier?

Dante turned his head back to looking straight ahead. The rest of us were quite a bit further than we were. A hooded figure turned around shortly but turned back around just a few short moments later. It happened so quickly that I wasn't sure if the face I'd seen had really been him.

I wondered if it really had been Reece's face underneath the hood.

"Anyway. You're beating yourself up too much about this. Stand your ground, apologize for what you did wrong. But don't apologize for your intentions. If what you told me is true, then you didn't mean to do anyone wrong. And that's what's important."

Hearing Dante say that, of all people, gave me a deep sense of gratification.

"And, I mean, just quit the fussing. It's annoying," he added in a grunt and made me laugh.

That was the Dante I knew.