Chapter 21 Astra
TWENTY-ONE
Astra
I wake up alone… again.
This time, I feel more secure about it, even as I reach across the bed and find the sheets are ice cold.
Donovan’s been up for a while.
Remembering his urge to leave me a note—which is what led him to find the poison that I wasn’t intentionally hiding from him—I look around. There’s nothing. The pillow next to me is empty. So is the nightstand.
I try not to think too much about it.
I don’t have that strange feeling in my gut, so I’m really not worried.
My whole body feels shaky as I get out of bed. There’s an ache between my thighs that makes me smile, even if he did leave me to wake up alone. I swear I can still feel his hand wrapped around my throat, and I can’t resist touching the spot as if I can make the sensation more real.
There’s a smile on my face as I dash across the walkway to my room.
I lock eyes with Fabien down below and let out a little laugh. His face says it all. I’ve been caught leaving Donovan’s room, and I don’t even care.
Fabien can’t be clueless enough to miss how thick the sexual tension is between Donovan and me.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” I call out before I duck into my room.
I’m in desperate need of a shower and caffeine. Since Fabien is waiting on me, I don’t spend as much time as I usually would under the warm spray.
I practically dance down the stairs, my good mood shining through.
Even though this morning feels a lot different than yesterday morning, I still can’t help my eyes as they roam over the house as I walk through it.
I’d like to say I’m pulling off nonchalant as I look for Donovan, but I’m probably not.
I can’t help but wonder what pulled him out of bed and why he didn’t leave me a note.
I have to say, I don’t like whatever this is that’s going on with me.
I never would have thought I’m one of those people.
While romance is something I wouldn’t shy away from, I’m not all Miss Damsel in Distress over here fanning herself with a white handkerchief about to faint.
I might have been a virgin and not had a lot of experiences out in the real world, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have a grasp on how things work outside of the bubble I was forced to live in.
I had a TV. I had books. I had access to the internet.
Oh, and I wasn’t shy about using it. Which is a good thing, I think, because otherwise, my deflowering—ew, I know—night would have gone a lot differently.
I would have had zero idea of what was to come and likely been a mess the next morning.
I don’t like the way I’m searching for Donovan, hoping to see him at any second. It’s frustrating how he’s become my only focus.
This curse thing is messing with my head. I just need to focus on getting out of this mess so I can go on with my life.
Lucille meets me at the door with a smile.
I’m thankful for the distraction from my thoughts.
She follows me outside with some breakfast options and clean dishware.
I flop into the chair across from Fabien, snatch up the plain white mugs the second Lucille gracefully puts it in front of me, and instantly pour myself a cup of coffee from the half-full French press sitting on the table.
Fabien looks like he’s already gotten into it, and I wonder how many cups he’s had as he drinks the last little bit in his mug.
I pour him a refill once he sets it back down and shake my head at all the sugar he instantly dumps in.
“Thank you, Lucille,” I say as she deliberately places a bowl of fresh fruit in front of me. The kind of smile she sends me is one that says I should eat the fruit before I even think of touching the pastries.
It warms my heart a little, and to show her I see how she cares, I pop a blueberry into my mouth.
“Sorry, I couldn’t come yesterday,” Fabien tells me. The skin around his eyes is tight. I sit up, worry swirling in my gut. “Someone broke into my office, and it was a mess.”
“Oh, no. Was anything taken?” I ask. The concern in my voice is real. I hate this for him.
“Some of my notes and my laptop.” He looks more disappointed than angry, but I think that’s just who he is. “I’m still sorting out everything.”
“Do you need to go take care of it?”
“No.” He sends me a small smile. “I need a break.” He reaches for his cup of coffee. “And coffee.”
“Mmm,” I hum after I reach for mine and finally take my first sip of coffee. “The coffee my aunts made was never like this.”
Fabien laughs.
“I remember playing here—well, not playing, but being here when I was younger. Lucille makes the best everything.” His smile is distant. “I’ve missed many things about this place for years, but I’m also grateful for the life I’ve been given to live.”
“You were close to Donovan?”
“Well, sort of. Torrin is my cousin,” he tells me. “He and Donovan have been friends for more than half their lives. I used to… get to tag along with them when we were younger. Then, well, things changed. They became older and had more responsibilities.”
The way he says that tells me to read between the lines.
I cock my head and stare at him. There’s a story there, but I’m not sure I have the right to ask.
Was he close to Donovan growing up? Looking at him, I’d say he’s maybe around thirty, so seven years younger than Donovan.
Maybe he was like a little brother at one point. Was it Donovan who sent him away?
Does the monster have a heart underneath the cold exterior?
“Let’s talk about what Torrin told me when he called yesterday,” he says, changing the subject before I can question myself and ask him what Donovan was like as a kid.
“Where do I even start?” I flash him a look that says this is all too much. “I had no idea, I swear. My emotions… they’ve never been like this.”
“Strong? Uncontrollable?”
“There, period. And yesterday it was like they were all over the place.” He looks at me as if my answer is confusing, and I get it. How do I explain that I don’t remember having a burst of any kind of emotion before recently?
I go into everything I can remember. Then I fill him in on what Sandra told me.
I don’t see the point in holding back, especially if Fabien can help me in some way.
He certainly knows more than I do. It probably doesn’t help that the only teachings I can remember came from three kooky witches of a small coven.
“Sure, I’ve laughed before, and even felt sadness, but it always felt dulled, I guess. I don’t think I ever knew any other way.” I shrug when I finish as if to say I don’t really know how it all fits. I’m still trying to process everything.
“A lot has been done to you,” he says, and I can’t say I disagree. “It’s no wonder everything is kind of exploding now.”
“How do I control it?”
“I think being aware of it is the first step. Next, you just have to learn how to hold onto your true emotions. Find out what it is you really feel and don’t let any others in.”
“Or let those feelings out,” I toss in.
“It’s fascinating,” he says, making me feel a little like a lab rat.
I don’t mind so much since it’s kind of adorable the way he gets into it.
It’s easy to see that Fabien is they type of person who wants to learn everything about everything.
“It’s almost like you’re a conduit for emotions.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard of something like that.
I know of those who can soothe people while they are in a hysterical emotional state, and I’ve met a few empaths before.
I’ve seen their magic in action. I felt them pull the emotions away from me.
It’s wild. But both at the same time?” He shakes his head, his eyes wild with amazement. “Never.”
“Glad I could be such a wonder for you,” I tease.
He blushes and looks down before mumbling, “Sorry, I’m not very good around people. I tend to get too excited about things others don’t. I mean no offense.”
“I think it’s amazing,” I tell him. I reach over and put a comforting hand over his.
“I like how confident you are in things you’re interested in.
I’m at your service if it makes you light up like that when you talk about it.
Just call me your guinea pig, though I’m not sure what exactly I’m offering myself up for. ”
“I would never want to harm you. Besides, if we are going to run any experiments, it will have to be with the approval of Donovan.” He abruptly snaps his mouth closed.
That’s when I hear footsteps coming behind me.
It’s Donovan, I can tell just by the confident pounding of the walk.
I don’t turn around to acknowledge him. I hold my breath because I don’t know how this is going to go.
It gives me a tiny ball of anxiety in my gut.
I wish I had a script or a road map. It’s not like I’m expecting it to go a certain way, it’s more…
I wish I knew which direction so I could have an idea of how to navigate what’s to come.
Anxious and unsure thoughts wash through me. I have no idea where they come from.
He left me in bed alone, I remind myself. This is all just fun and games.
I nearly recoil at the thought. That’s not me.
I need to pull it together. Maybe I shouldn’t let Donovan off so easily for leaving me in bed alone for a second time, especially after how yesterday morning went down for me.
There. Now that is more like me. I shake the other unease and insecurity away.
His shadow falls over me. I tilt my head to the side to peer up at him, a coolness in my posture that I wasn’t sure I had in me.
He’s dressed in a clean suit, and I hate myself for the wave of weakness that washes over me at the sight of him. The man fills out a suit like I’ve only ever seen actors do.
I can’t read his expression as he looks down at me. He seems… hesitant. I can’t understand why.
My lungs freeze as he begins to lean over as if he’s going to kiss me.