Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
I think that was the best sleep of my life. It was pure uninterrupted black abyss. No dreams, no nightmares, no visions, no thoughts, nothing. Both my body and my mind were actually sleeping. Proper rest.
Too bad I can’t stay here forever.
My mind starts registering my body and what had happened before sleep. I had passed out. Thankfully falling onto my bed, but Callahan, Jullia, and Asher had still been in the room. After that everything had been black, and I have no idea how long I’ve been out.
The longest before was six days, but I have a feeling it hasn’t been that long.
Peeling my eyes open I’m greeted by my blank, boring ceiling. Off to the left is my window covered by a blackout sheet. That must mean I’m laying properly on my bed. Meaning someone must have moved me.
Callahan.
In addition to my body no longer feeling as fatigued and aching, there is still that slight tug within. Like an instinctual pull drawing me towards something.
My first thought is the one who said my name before. But I don’t think so.
Next thing I register is that there’s a soft glow coming from Jullia’s side and I am not alone in my room. And it is not Jullia or Asher in here with me.
Turning my head to the side, I’m greeted by gold. Gold eyes with black ringing the iris and white threading through. They’re watching me with a predatory stillness, though his true devil is nowhere near the surface. Good.
“Callahan,” I whisper, my voice scratchy with how dry it is.
He blinks and leans further in. Something delicious wafts behind him and smells a lot like tortilla soup. My stomach grumbles loudly at it. I can’t remember the last time I ate something.
His golden eyes fly to my stomach and then his stone still state drops. His shoulders relax and he smirks at me. A slightly dangerous look on his face but I don’t feel like I’m in danger at the moment.
Leaning back, he pulls a paper bag across my desk and that scent of soup gets stronger. It smells divine.
“Can you sit up?” he asks quietly. Keeping the bag right at the edge of my desk. If I were to lift my arm I would probably be able to grab it. He leans towards me with his own arms raised. “Let me help you.”
And then he proceeds to slip a hand under my head and his other under my back before lifting me up.
He replaces the blanket that had been on me – a blanket that is not mine and I know for a fact is not Jullia’s.
It smells like cackling embers and cedar.
Like a comforting fire surrounded by a serene forest. It’s like I weigh nothing with how easy he lifted me.
The act itself jars my mind even more and I clear my throat.
“You didn’t have to. . . “
What am I supposed to say? Stay? Bring me food? Lift me up like I weigh nothing?
He starts opening the bags and the scent of warm, hearty, soul-blessing food thickens in the air.
His body relaxed and his movements sure as he sets up the containers on the edge of the desk.
And just as I smelled, one of the round bowls holds some sort of tortilla soup. Little chunks of avocado on top.
Dipping one of the spoons into the soup, he bring the whole thing close to my lips and then gold eyes meet mine again. That tug pulls with a sharp jerk and his eyes flash as if he felt something similar.
“It’s hot,” he murmurs, “so blow.”
Tension tightens between us as some sort of electric spark sputters through the air.
Part of me wants to ignore him and tell him to go away.
He’s friends with the other celestials – who although have mostly left me alone, are a constant present of fuming hatred.
At least, Thorne and Darian feel that way.
The professors have basically ignored me.
But Callahan had been relatively kind to me. Aside from trying to enter my mind, he hasn’t done anything to me. And that instinctual tug wants me to listen.
I blow softly on the spoon before me and then open my mouth to take the bite. Callahan doesn’t break eye contact with me and I watch as his pupils blow out. Another sharp tug being pulled from deep within.
I’m going to rip my fucking soul from my body.
He doesn’t act on any impulses, just scoops up more soup and waits for me to blow.
I have to dig my nails into my palms to keep from making a noise of satisfaction.
It’s the best tortilla soup I’ve ever had.
Not even Mama Deja’s soups can compete. And she’s known nationally for her famous soups.
It probably helps that she’s a faerie and they’re known for their magical cooking hands.
He feeds me until the soup is gone and I’m slightly fuller than I was before. The warmth heating my stomach and I lean my head back with a sigh. I’m still starving, but there’s still more food and at least I don’t feel so weak. I could get up and move if I needed to. I could feed myself.
Callahan doesn’t ask or say anything as he grabs another container. Opening it the scent of rice and beans float over. I peak between slitted eyes to see a container holding Mexican styled rice and brown beans with two cheesy quesadillas stuffed with what looks like shredded chicken.
Picking up a slice of quesadilla, he leans back over and holds the thing up to my mouth. His fingers are spread out on the underside to keep it from lopping over. If I were to take a normal sized bite my mouth would touch the tips of his finger.
Keeping in a groan, I push myself further up and then take the food out from his hand. Bending my legs I bring my knees and blanket up to my chest and take a bite while looking away from him.
“You don’t have to stay,” I say between bites. Hmhhh. Cheesy, melted goodness. I think I love cheese almost as much as I love my steamed vegetables.
I eat the whole thing faster than I probably should have, but when I shift to take another slice the container is moved away. Callahan is still holding it and when I look up at him to glare he’s already glaring at me.
“What?”
He turns to the side and glares at the wall instead. My stomach – stomach – pinches and pulls. It’s probably because I ate to fast. Or I haven’t eaten enough. Actually I think it’s because I need blood.
Taking his hand he rubs his eyes and leans back in the chair with a sigh. I hadn’t realized before but he had pulled the chair as close as he could to the bed. His legs are spread wide with his knees pressed into the thin mattress.
“Mavyn. . . “ He sounds almost exasperated. It makes me want to roll my eyes. “Why would I leave you?”
I cross my arms over my chest as he looks back at me, but this time I turn my head away. My stomach pulls again and I grit my teeth as I dig my nails into my palms.
Why would I leave you?
Why did he say it as if it was obvious. As if him staying was the only option. A promise in his words that he will be staying for longer than just this moment too. A promise he shouldn’t make – even if it is only said between the lines.
I will never leave you.
Forever, in every lifetime.
The memory hits me like a blinding light behind my eyes and I sink my nails deeper into my palms instead of flinching.
A rush of pain echoes in my body that I don’t let show.
I keep my hold on how fast my heart beats and blood flows.
I keep my energy even and my aura nonexistent.
I let nothing fluctuate until the memory fizzles away.
“Because,” I grit, my eyes still burning a hole through the wall. “Why would you stay?”
I can’t look at him. I refuse to look at him. I. Refuse.
I will not be trapped again. I will not be locked in a cage within my own body again. I will not be bound.
Already I’m a slave to the sun. I’m a slave in my own skin, unable to have the contact needed for life. I’m a slave to my mind and the nightmares and a monster who should have stopped having an impact in my life the moment his heart stopped.
I will find a way to rip my soul from my body. If Callahan wants it so badly, if fate has been written and our souls are connected, then he can have it. I have no need for it if that is the case.
The scent of embers and cedar fill the room until it smells like I’m sitting before a fire in the middle of a forest. Warm and comforting and calm.
Despite all the burning I have always loved fire.
I have never been afraid of fire and flame scorching me.
Flames of red and orange and blue in the center marking the hottest part.
So hot the lines of burning and freezing blur. That burning never felt the same.
“Mavyn.” His voice is quiet and his breath whispers along my jaw. So close that I’m sure if I turned too quickly I’d smack my head with his. “Look at me.”
It pulls stronger than before. As if someone took their hand, curled their fingers around my soul, and jerked to towards him. So much need to heed to his words. To want to turn my head and lock my eyes with his.
His breath whispers along my jaw again with his exhale. “Please.”
Berry and floral burst through the embers and cedar. The scents twining together as my nails puncture past the barrier of my skin.
Power pulses from him and I’d grin but for a moment it jars me. For a moment it feels too consuming. But instead of allowing my mind to make me cower, I slowly shift my head and burn raging eyes at gentle gold ones.
It makes me flinch.
A half of a breath gasped into my lungs as my expression drops. He is close, close enough that I can see the individual threads of white through his eyes. Close enough that if I even breathe there will be some form of contact. Not that I could move anyway.
I was expecting him to be glaring at me. His eyes slitted, brows lowered, gold eyes darkened. Instead, he’s watching me with a sort of softness I’ve never experienced before. The kind Asher has for Jullia, and Caleb has for Ana, and unfortunately. . . that sun devil for his mage.