Read Online Locked by Parker Witter - Free Book Online

everything separating us gone. He tosses my shirt down, and for a moment I have the impulse to cover myself with my hands.
    â€œYou’re so beautiful,” he says, and my heart leaps so far in my chest it feels like it jumps straight into my throat.
    He leans down to kiss me, and when his skin meets mine, I feel it again—that particular, magical warmth. I look at my torso—it’s lit up, like there are lights inside my rib cage shining from the inside out.
    â€œWhat’s happening?” I whisper.
    â€œI don’t know,” he says. His breath is strained. “Does it hurt?”
    I shake my head. “It feels amazing.”
    He kisses me again. The light spreads. Now it’s in my arms and my chest. We both look at my shoulder as he trails his fingertips down it. Gold dust follows, like the tail of a shooting star.
    â€œIt’s incredible,” I say. “I can’t believe you can do this.”
    He tucks some hair behind my ear. “It’s you,” he says.
    And then he’s kissing me again. I pull him down closer, tighter, so that there is no space between his chest and mine. I feel his heartbeat, frantic against me. I have never felt closer to anyone, I think. Not in my whole life. But I want to be closer. I want to be as close as two people possibly can be.
    And that’s when lightning strikes. Literally.
    There is a sound like the clash of steel on steel—harsh, jarring, deafening. And then the roof is on fire. The canvas above us explodes into flames—so tall they look like they’re not even real.
    Noah scrambles up with me in his arms. He pulls me behind him as he throws his hands upward, toward the ceiling. He calls out a chant, but nothing happens. Instead, the flames reach higher.
    â€œIt’s not working,” he shouts.
    It’s raining just as hard as it was when we were on the beach, but it’s not putting the fire out. It’s not even making a dent.
    Something is wrong.
    Noah holds his hands up again. The chant gets louder. But still nothing happens.
    I run into the kitchen. Maybe there is something—but what? Water won’t work. It’s raining. And then it hits me: the island.
    I run back into the bedroom. “Noah,” I pant. His chest is drenched in sweat now; the room is heating from the top down. I run to him. “Noah, the island.” We look at each other. He drops his hands. “The island is doing this.”
    He looks up, then his eyes come back to meet mine, stern, focused. He has the same look he had when he came back from meeting with the chief yesterday. “Go into the other room,” he says.
    â€œBut…”
    â€œGo!” He shakes his head. He steps toward me, puts a hand on my cheek. “Go, and stay until I come get you.”
    I nod. “Okay.”
    I leave. I walk into the living room. I’m naked, and in here it’s cold—forty degrees colder than the bedroom. It’s like I stepped into a different world.
    I see Noah’s blankets folded on the floor and wrap one around me. I’m shaking. I hug my knees up to my chest. I wait.
    The fire isn’t spreading, but I don’t know what Noah is doing in there. What if it has hurt him? I’m about to run back—I was stupid to leave him alone—when he comes out.
    He’s covered up now. His shirt is back on.
    I run to him and throw my arms around his neck, bury my face in his chest, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t wrap his arms around me. He doesn’t press his lips into my ear and tell me it’s all going to be okay. Instead, he peels my hands back and holds them between us. The same way he did on the beach.
    â€œWe can’t,” he says.
    I shake my head. “What are you talking about? What happened to the fire?”
    â€œIt’s gone.” He drops my hands and goes to sit on a stool by the window. I run back into the bedroom and as I stand in the doorway I