23. Elzora

23

ELZORA

“ I s she okay?”

Necos’s whispered words pull me from the doze I was doing against Mael’s chest, and I’m now fully alert. He sounds exhausted, and the knot in my stomach grows so quickly as I wait for Mael’s reply.

“She’s fine,” Mael says, sounding a bit gruff from sleep. “How are you? How was the shit with Downey?”

I don’t hear anything and can’t see Necos, but he must gesture or something because Mael sighs.

“Of course,” my fire mate mutters, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the new brand our bond has left on my hip. I moan, nestling into him further, and both men seem to freeze.

“Is she…” Necos doesn’t finish, and I frown, not sure what he’s asking. Am I what ?

“She’s sleeping,” Mael says reassuringly. “We bonded earlier, and she had an epic panic attack at her dad’s.”

“I know, I had the rundown. He was terrified.” Necos edges closer, his footsteps silent, but the presence of his magicae grows. “You did good, though. You helped her.”

Mael’s body tenses, and his heart beats twice before he relaxes. “Not good enough. And it’s not like Anomus fucking helped.”

He tried. My dad tried his best, and it’s not his fault that I’m so mentally unwell that I reacted that way.

It’s not his fault that I’m a mess.

“We can’t judge him,” Necos says firmly. “She’s his daughter, and after everything he has gone through to get to where he is, to get to finally be in her life—he just wants to do his absolute best for her.”

“I was what was best for her—not him.”

“And he regrets that, but, Mael, you have to understand?—”

“Understand what?” I ask quietly. I roll away from Mael, stretching as I rise to a sitting position. Mael’s bond lights up with humour as I look at Necos’s horrified face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, um, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be in here.” The words tumble out of Necos’s mouth in a hurried rush as his eyes dart away from me.

His face is drawn into a firm expression of disapproval, and his side of the bond is completely shut down, so I can’t analyse his emotions. It feels like cheating to examine his soul when he so clearly doesn’t want me to hear what’s going on, so I don’t try.

Even if I wish I could have some insight into his mind.

“Don’t fucking do that,” Mael snarls, and I jump in surprise. Mael tugs the blankets up over me, and I flush, immediately realising what the issue was.

I’m… not wearing any clothes.

Necos saw… Necos… oh, my days.

I squeeze my eyes shut, desperate to hide the tears that are welling up.

I’m mortified.

But more than that, hurt .

Which is stupid.

Necos and I, we don’t… that’s not the kind of relationship we have. He’s not interested in me like that, and I won’t ever push for more. Our bond doesn’t have to be romantic, right?

I can’t fucking do this.

The sobbing sound that escapes me at hearing Necos’s silent thoughts is something I should not have permitted to happen. I can’t… I can’t.

“Get the fuck out of her room, now,” Mael hisses, tugging me into his lap. He’s still naked, but there’s absolutely nothing sexual about the way he holds me to his chest. He cradles my head into him, the warmth of his hand holds the back of my head, and as the door slams, Mael moves us so we’re lying down together.

He doesn’t judge.

He doesn’t protest.

He just lets me cry.

I don’t know when I fall asleep, but I know that Mael is with me the entire time.

“ M orning,” I whisper, too afraid to move. I’m now hyperaware of the shift in my bedmates that has clearly happened as I’ve slept—my fire witch has been replaced by air and water, their presence both comforting and concerning, you know, given my still bare skin.

And after how that went last night…

“That was Necos’s failure,” Ryes says cheerfully. He pulls me towards him, and I have no idea if he uses his powers or if I’m so out of it I don’t feel it.

“You know?”

“Don’t sound so embarrassed,” Ryes demands, tilting my head up so I meet his eyes. “I hear all your thoughts—that’s how I know. Nobody is talking about it, although Mael’s furious at Necos.”

“I got that,” I say softly. “It was inappropriate?—”

“Of him to be in your bedroom if he was going to act like a mega fucking cunt when he had the privilege of seeing such a natural beauty,” Ryes says, nodding his head. “Yes, I agree. Honestly, ZoZo, you should just kick Necos out, and we could pretend we don’t need the time witch.”

“Kick him out of… his own home?” I ask slowly.

Ryes’s blue eyes twinkle in amusement, and he nods. “Imagine how much more fun we’d have if we could just do whatever we wanted without worrying about the time witch’s delicate eyes.”

“Shush,” Zohar grumbles, reaching out for me. I can tell his eyes are closed, despite not even seeing him, based on the way he’s whacking at the blankets.

I giggle, and Zohar rolls into us. He’s shirtless, the heat of his chest so warm against my back, but he doesn’t press anything else into me.

I bet he’s wearing pants.

“You’ve got a bit of an obsession this morning,” Ryes teases, and I groan. “Did Mael not satisfy you, ZoZo? Do we need to help you out?”

“Ugh,” I groan again, but I can't help the grin on my face. “I love you. Thank you.”

I lean forward and press a chaste kiss to his lips before scooting down under the blankets. Ryes lifts them up, but I move down to the edge of the bed and escape before either man can persuade me to stay in longer.

“What are you doing?” Zohar grumbles.

“No, bro, what are you doing?” Ryes demands, kicking at him. I sit on the edge of the bed, watching the two of them, and erupt into giggles.

Zohar’s trying to cuddle with Ryes, and the air witch is not impressed.

“I love you both so, so much,” I say through the laughter. I grab an outfit from my wardrobe, grateful that neither Zohar nor Ryes are paying me much attention, and go through to the bathroom to shower.

I don’t know what today is going to bring, but I’m exhausted even thinking about it.

“ I s it considered murder if you say sorry afterwards?” Ryes asks with causal menace as he twirls his fork around his spaghetti. There’s a pointed look on his face as he looks over at Etrix.

Why my air witch is eating spaghetti for breakfast, I don’t know, but I’ve given up even trying to ask—especially since it’s clear that we’ve got bigger problems right now.

Eirik, Ciar, Etrix, Ryes, and I are the only ones here, sitting around the table. Necos has a very formal dining room, which we’re utilising more often than the informal dining room, because of the amount of us. Eirik’s at the head of the table, with Ciar on his left. Ryes is one seat down from Eirik on the right, with me sat next to him, and it’s quite nice.

Well, it is now . I was really uncomfortable at first with the death glares that Mael, Ciar, and Ryes were shooting Necos, and the tension that was radiating from my earth witch.

It was still better than the first meal we had here, with all the formal place settings and how at ease every single one of my men were when I managed to drop spaghetti sauce onto the table within my first bite.

I was the only one embarrassed by that, really, but for the most part, I’ve come to enjoy our meal times.

It’s one of the only times I get to see everyone.

Vexus is the only one I’ve not seen yet this morning, and Necos is now over there with him. They’re doing… well, I don’t actually know. I think that’s for the best right now, though, considering there’s a tension thrumming through me that will only be enhanced by knowledge.

At least when my brain tells me they’re doing dangerous things and going to die, I can chalk it up to anxiety that way.

Mael’s out in the garden recharging his primordium after our bonding yesterday, Zohar’s still asleep in my bed because it’s before 10 am, and Jasper is hiding out in the greenhouse with his and Necos’s plant project so he doesn’t need to interact with any of us beyond what is necessary.

The disharmony between us all scrapes against my soul like broken glass, and the wounds being created is something that my magicae can’t quite heal.

“You don’t need to even apologise for the murder if you don’t get caught,” Ciar says with a shrug at my shocked look. He raises his brows at Ryes. “Why? Who is on your shit list?”

“Do you guys really need to discuss this over breakfast?” I ask almost hesitantly as I look around the table, not seeing anyone else who seems bothered by this conversation.

Oh. I duck my head, my shoulders curling inward as the familiar weight of being a problem child settles over me. Everyone else is seeming to float through these moments, it’s easy smiles and casual threats, whilst I’m drowning in the undercurrents of their dynamics.

Why do I do this?

“It’s not like I’d murder him in front of you, ZoZo, don’t worry,” Ryes says before scoffing at Ciar. “Don’t worry, dickhead. I count the two of you as a package deal, so you’ll both get the grave. Zoe won’t care that you’re gone.”

I open my mouth to protest but close it as soon as Etrix gets there first. I take a small bite of my avocado toast, but my stomach churns, and my appetite has gone. This is… uncomfortable.

I’m uncomfortable.

“It’s also not going to happen because it’s impossible for him to not get caught, princess. He’s not going to be able to off anyone,” Etrix taunts, a smirk on his face. “It’s hard for Ryes, you know? He’s not the most subtle person around.”

Ryes glares at him. “I’m sufficiently subtle, thanks.”

“Sufficiently?” Eirik’s eyebrow arches as he lowers his crossword, his attention caught by the unexpected vocabulary from Ryes. “Are you trying out a new thing or…?”

“Jasper has a words of the day calendar in his bedroom,” Ryes says, causing the others all to laugh, their bickering fading as they all unite against one target. They’re horrible to Jasper, and living together in such close quarters is only going to end badly if they don’t start being nice to him.

Jasper is doing his best not to rise to every dig that’s thrown his way, but there are a lot of them, and I’m getting sick of hearing it. I can’t imagine how he’s feeling—mostly since he’s shut down his side of the bond, and I truly try not to read their souls when they do that.

We’re adjusting to living together now, and it’s not going very well. Mostly.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m in love with our new living arrangement. My bonds with all of my men are constantly overloaded with power just because of our proximity together, and we’re kind of settling in together.

I finally feel safe to not only learn my magicae but just in general, and if I try hard, I’m happy—really happy.

My soul connections, on the other hand… well, they’re struggling just a little with being so close together, and the current situation that we’re in doesn’t lend to much alone time.

Etrix, Jasper, and Necos in particular are finding it the hardest. They don’t like being around people all the time, especially nosy people who invade their space a lot. It’s been a very big adjustment for them, and it’s not made easier with the constant fighting when we’re home.

The other five men are used to living together, so their issue isn’t the lack of space or the constant stream of noise. No, they’re just in a mood because they dislike their other roommates, and since they’re able to outnumber the others, they group up together and cause so many fights.

It makes me feel awful knowing—for the most part—how much this situation benefits me, and yet, knowing that, truly, I’m struggling just as much as they are.

But how can I ask them to stop fighting when they’re doing their best for my sake?

I wish I could fix it, but no matter how many times I talk to them one-on-one, the moment we’re back in a group, the fighting starts back up, and they all bounce off of each other.

But yet, being together in such a state of disharmony hurts . I hate feeling the negativity and upset from each of my men, and the amount of guilt and pressure I’m walking around with is a lot.

I can’t keep doing it.

Ryes is constantly poking at everyone, doing his best to ignite fights, and then he gets to just sit back and enjoy the chaos. Ciar, surprisingly, has been the most even tempered, but he will get in the middle of it for fun when he’s in a bad mood—either siding with Etrix or against him depending on the flip of his coin. Mael enjoys lighting Jasper’s things on fire, and he snaps a lot about people walking past his bedroom door because they’re being too loud.

Zohar and Eirik are, of course, a lot more subtle about their taunting, but that doesn’t mean they don’t engage in the fights either. I’m just not as good at spotting their deliberate riling up.

But discussing murder over breakfast is a new low for them all. Especially when the victim— victims? —is sitting right there.

“You’re so cute,” Eirik says, smiling at me. “But you don’t need to worry. I’d not let anyone kill my brother.”

“I wasn’t worried about him being dead,” I say, because I wasn’t. Etrix is more than capable of handling whatever threat was thrown his way without permanently harming which of my soul connections threw it.

I look down at my food before meeting Eirik’s eyes once more. “I was worried about my breakfast being ruined. Again .”

“Oh, wow, that’s cold, princess,” Etrix says, clutching his chest dramatically.

“My breakfast is often cold before I even get to eat it,” I say sadly. There’s some sniggers, but they’re cut off almost immediately, and I can feel the concern from both Eirik and Ciar.

“Are you okay, darling?” Eirik asks gently.

I sigh and push my food away as the knot in my stomach grows tighter. “I’m okay. I’m going to go practice.”

A mournful silence settles over the group, and I hope my mind is clear enough that Ryes doesn’t know exactly what’s happening within me. It’s not fair that he would, considering I can barely figure out what’s going on. My emotions are up and down, my mind chaotic, and I’m exhausted.

The lack of harmony surrounding me tears at my nerves, each interaction causing more and more damage.

I’m struggling, and the weight of being the only one maintaining the peace is becoming a physical burden I can’t shoulder today.

I walk through the house, trailing my fingers along the cool walls as I make my way to my favourite room—the conservatory. On the ground floor of our house—well, castle— this is one of the best places for me.

It’s large, open, beautiful, and so full of light. It’s a soothing balm on my soul, and I love the energy that fills me whilst being here, surrounded by such serenity.

I move to sit on the rug in the centre of the room and close my eyes. I reach inside me and try to connect with my primordium .

My magicae eagerly responds—too eagerly, perhaps. It’s been so much easier to access, to control, to utilise, now that I’ve unleashed the full potential of my primordium, and I’m not afraid any more.

In Necos’s home, I’m safe. I can use my magicae to my heart’s content, and I love learning more about the powers I harbour.

I use my magicae to ground me in this moment, letting my mind calm and settle, using the tricks I’ve learnt to truly relax myself. It’s a powerful feeling, this true ease.

When my eyes open once more, eight sources of power pulse before me, and it’s easy to see what has been affecting my mood so badly. Each symbol represents my mates, and the way they’re visibly represented—a small fireball, a water droplet, a smoky shadow, a beam of light, an hourglass, a swirling tornado, a pile of earthy mud, and a pulsing heart right in the centre.

If I wasn’t so tense, the effects they’re having in the conservatory could be quite mesmerising, but instead, all I can see is the struggles that we’re having and the fault that’s clearly mine.

Drawing on my magicae helps settle my brain but not enough to completely fix the havoc it’s causing me.

“ Statera ,” I murmur, and I can feel the warring feelings inside come to a balance. “ Concordia .”

But my power doesn’t seem to obey me in my quest for internal harmony.

Instead, it stretches outwards, the bright gold shocking me, as it encompasses Necos’s entire home and the vast lands. I can feel my energy travelling into the walls, feel it travelling along the house, brushing against my mates.

Every single touch as my magicae hunts, each connection, burns into my consciousness.

I don’t know what it’s doing, but I trust in it. I let my eyes shut, and I let myself feel. There’s so much power flowing out of me, so raw and intense, but it’s controlled.

I’m in control.

Or at least, I think I am, until I hear annoyed shouts from my men. Even worse than their annoyance, though, is their panic .

I disconnect from my primordium and rush to go and see what I’ve done, though something feels off. It’s almost as if the world has shifted slightly left of centre. My body is trembling with anxiety, my muscles taut as I move.

I let my instincts guide me, I let my magicae do my will... but maybe, I should’ve tried to control it a little more. Has it stretched too far? Touched too much? Has it changed something it shouldn’t?

The walls seem to pulse with my residual power, and as I move through them, even the air feels wrong. Oh, goodness.

I stumble on the doorframe and fall to the floor, my head cracking on the doorframe. I let out a whimper as I feel the effects of where I’ve hurt myself. I’ve scraped my knees on the rough marble and cut my arm on the very rough side wall.

Dark red blood is dripping down to my fingertips, causing the wound to sting even further. I drop to my bum, my eyes blurring, and I can’t tell if it’s from pain, tears, or a concussion.

“Holy fuck.” The words burst from Zohar’s lips, his face draining of colour, as he rushes over to me. Something about his expression is off, but he drops down to my side and kisses my forehead just as tenderly as he normally does.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs.

“I’m a little sore. Can you heal me?” I murmur, blinking back tears. “I never normally ask, but?—”

“No, but Zohar can,” he says, looking at me strangely. He shakes his head and shouts loudly, his word echoing through the house. “Zohar!”

“What are you doing?” I ask, and now I’m the one looking at him strangely.

“Getting the stupid water witch,” he says, rolling his bright blue eyes.

But the issue is, those words, this expression… it doesn’t link to Zohar. This man should have pale blue eyes and dirty blonde hair.

“Ryes?” I ask tentatively. My stomach churns as panic begins to form.

Zohar ’s head nods, but I already knew I was right. “Yes?”

“Oh, no.”

Oh, no .

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.