Chapter 22 #2
It had been the only time he had looked humane. When he didn’t look like a monster. Staring down at his fated with their twisted souls and mangled love for each other.
Something flickers. Past the color, behind his eyes, at the heart of himself. . . I see it.
His soul.
So much like his aura. Black and white. Light and dark. A contradiction and yet balanced.
Without meaning to I trace his jaw with my fingertips. On the surface, his pupils expand. Swallowing up his color as I skim over his cheek to the corner of his eye.
There’s another presence within too. The window showing past his physical body to within allowing me to see everything. A thing – shadow, monster, beast, true devil – shrunk so small but wrapped tightly around the same thing pulling within me. A single flickering flame the color of a midnight sky.
The line between burning and freezing.
Warmth floods over my heart in the shape of a hand. His lips ghosting words over my own.
“Your heart has never beat this fast before.”
He’s right. I lost my grip on my blood. It’s now rushing through my veins, heating me from the inside with a need. My body battling with my mind about pressing closer to him. That electricity in the air that twined with tension draws taunt. A single line that is about to snap at any moment.
It feels right.
And that’s the problem.
He must see it. He has to see it. This thing will not be lasting.
Pulling back, the window in his eyes shutters close and gentleness turns to sadness. Sitting back in his chair he also removes his hand from over my heart and stares longingly at me.
“I couldn’t see your soul, Mavyn.”
I know.
Turning away again, this time it feels somber and there’s a heavy weight on me now. He won’t ever be able to see my soul. No one ever will.
He sighs and I understand his disappointment. If our roles were reversed I’d probably feel the same.
“Are you still hungry?”
My stomach doesn’t make a sound but it does roil. He doesn’t sound disappointed or angry. I turn my head to look at him and he’s just sitting there, waiting for me to answer with a neutral expression.
“You’re not angry?”
His brows flicker down. “Why would I be angry?”
I blink at him. Did I imagine it? Did everything that just happen happen in my head?
“I’m not. . . yours.”
I say that word slowly. Hesitant and unsure because I can’t say the other word.
Saying that word out loud would mean it’s real.
Would cement the fact that we are. . . connected.
I can’t even think the word because if I want any hope in un-connecting us I can’t believe it.
I can’t allow it to have any belief or faith because then it will be real.
People forgot the power of belief.
Belief can make whole universes exist. Just as not believing – just as forgetting – can make them disappear.
So I can’t believe it.
I expect his true devil to rise to the surface and demand I take it back. The force of his power slamming into me with a need that I believe. It’s always the primal part of ourselves that overrule our conscious and morals. And you can’t get any more primal than a true form.
But Callahan softens his features and brings one of the containers back over. Setting it in my lap and then letting go so I can feed myself.
“What would you do if I was angry?” he asks quietly.
Fear, pain, regret, fangs. I look at the food in my lap instead of him so he can’t see the memories. Cages and chains, beatings, whips, starving, burning, burning, burning.
“Brace,” I whisper.
I had done it in the training arena when Thorne grabbed me before Callahan came in. Then again before at the party when Darian grabbed the back of my neck and at the angle – despite there being minor differences and them having different colored hair – I had seen the sun devil.
Psychology says there’s two options when faced with a threat. Fight or flight. But in truth there’s actually four, the other two people tend to forget about. Fight, flight, freeze, and fawn.
I was never able to defend myself or run away before. And freezing never helps when the threat is pummeling your face into the ground, nor does trying to appease it when it craves violence. When the threat gets off on your pain and blood.
Ms. Elaycia had paid for my weapons training and martial arts classes and self-defense. Nana had practiced with me and honed my skills and technique. Rosemary had sparred with me to strength my body. I am anything but weak.
And yet. . .
Even then. With all the training in the world, all the new muscle memory, all the weapons. . . my mind is my greatest weakness. I could fight a whole army in broad daylight and win, but mention that devil and I’d be open from every angle.
I will always brace.
“I am not angry, Mavyn.” Calm and clear words. “You were hurt. All I want to do right now is take care of you.”
I pick at the container still on my lap. I feel like I’m fourteen again when Ms. Elaycia was taking me in and showing me how the brothel worked. She said she takes care of those living here. She said she would take care of me.
It had been the first time. . . well, it had been the first time it was said to me without any malicious or derogatory intent behind it. And Ms. Elaycia kept her promise. For five years she took care of me.
I sigh. My emotions are conflicting with themselves. My. . . stomach is wanting one thing and my mind is waring with itself and my body is being tugged in too many different directions. I want to go back into that black abyss of sleep. I don’t want to think about all of this.
“Come to the Willow of Lore ceremony with me,” he says randomly. It makes me look up at him with my brows twitching down. “It’s a tradition here. . . the Willow of Lore is a symbol by the gods and each year its spirits perform a ceremony around it. Everyone comes out to watch it.”
Willow of Lore. . .
The tree that stands in the center of the university. The school built around that symbol. I haven’t had a chance to see it yet. Jullia usually walks by it with Asher when they’re coming back from Stone House. It’s easier than walking all the way around the school.
“But I thought the ceremony happens on the Winter Solstice?”
It’s supposed to. Even though we haven’t learned about the tree in Professor Asier’s class, I know that. Though, I wonder why we haven’t had a chapter on the tree yet. It should have been taught when we were learning about the creation of Syngenia University.
He leans back in the chair and scratches the back of his neck. It causes his short sleeve shirt to inch up and I immediately look away before it has a chance to show any skin.
“It’s supposed to. . . “
I look back, directly – only – at his face and raise a brow. “But?”
He huffs as he smirks at me. “But for some reason the spirits of the willow came out early and have started preparations for the ceremony. Asher said he and Jullia saw them this morning, and they also saw black lightning strike in the Hinterwood Forest.”
Black lightning?
I wonder. . .
Opening the container I finally start eating. My stomach immediately thanks me as I shove a huge bite of still warm, cheesy goodness into my mouth. I close my eyes to savor it and to procrastinate on saying anything else.
So many thoughts and so many questions.
“I would like to see the ceremony,” I finally say. I think it will be interesting to actually see how it all works.
“Really?!” I look at him because he sounds both surprised and excited. His eyes are wide and there’s a huge grin on his face. He tones it down a bit to ask, “Are you sure you’re alright to go through? The ceremony will be happening in two hours and you just woke up from being asleep all day.”
His excitement ripples through the room like a young golden retriever would. Floppy ears, too big paws, radiant energy, joy.
It makes me so happy and warm inside.
I look down at my half eaten food and glare. Fucking hell.
“I’ll be fine,” I grumble as I take the plastic fork that had been speared in the rice and start eating it.
Then I scoop some of the brown beans and eat that too.
Normally Mexican food is served with black beans but I hate them, so I’m glad something must be different here. They’re almost like refried beans.
He begins to contain his excitement, but I can see out of the corner of my eye he’s still smiling. He crosses his arms and leans back in my chair as I finish eating the beans and rice and pick up another slice of quesadilla.
Side-eyeing him, I ask, “Are you going to watch me eat the whole time?”
I’m sure he smirks. “I’ve got nothing else to do.”
“What about school?”
Speaking of, I missed a whole day of classes. And attendance is mandatory. Just fucking great.
“Watching you sleep was more important.”
Watching me. . .
I whip my head to gawk at him. “You watched me sleep! All fucking day?!”
And just as I suspected. . . he’s smirking. I think my eye twitches, but I can’t do much else except shake my head at him. Whatever. So he’s a creepy sleep watcher, what do I care.
Finishing my quesadilla, he then slides over another container and opens it before me. My stomach tugs again as pure happiness bleeds through my veins. So influential that I can’t help but smile as I take the large container stuffed with still steaming vegetables.
I inhale probably half of it before I sigh in content. Sliding down the wall I’m still leaning against and popping a perfectly buttery, salty piece of cauliflower into my mouth.
Heaven.
This is blissful heaven.
Opening my eyes I come face to face with gold. Callahan had leaned closer. Resting his forearms on his knees as he peers at me with curious eyes.
I slide down an inch more and pull my vegetables closer to my chest. Finishing chewing, I swallow my bite and contemplate what I should do next. Him watching me so closely like this makes me feel self-conscious. Not even Caleb ever observed me so closely.
Gold fractures and dark blond brows lower.
“Who’s Caleb?”
I shrink another inch and a little squeak escapes my throat.
I recheck all my mental shields before narrowing my eyes at him.
I can’t really be mad at him because those with mind magic who can hear other people’s thoughts tend to keep that part of their mind open.
Always listening, so I have to make sure to keep a tighter hold on my shields.
“No one,” I murmur. Looking down at my vegetables and scooping up a piece of carrot to shove in my mouth. “A friend from home.”
He hums and when I glance up at him the white threads in his eyes are glowing. Mild curiosity and a look that says ‘want to try answering that again’ appear on his face. I narrow my eyes and snap my eyes back to my food. I do not owe him any explanation.
He hums again but doesn’t push anything. He doesn’t say anything as I finish with my steamed vegetables. And this time he does leave, giving me privacy as I get up to change and get ready.
Willow of Lore. . . black lightning. . .
It’s starting to sound like these five years are not just going to go by quietly.
Whoever’s betting against my life. . . they better be making enough bank to be worth it. This is going to be exhausting.