Chapter 25
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Things were going so well…
Curses exit my mouth as I press my palms to my eyes and wait desperately for the medicine to just work. Hot tears pour down my cheeks as another wave of cramps twists in my stomach.
Compounding everything, Castor’s panic thunders against my chest as he circles my hanging bed like a vulture.
“Where’s my phone? Where’s my phone? Where’s my phone?” He swears, angles himself toward me, and crumples. “Is there nothing else I can do for you, my darling, my heart?”
Weak, I shake my stupid head and wish with everything in me that I’d woken up this morning to something other than agony.
After yesterday, Castor was going to start teaching me magic.
He already spent many of the evening hours exhibiting the enchantment process and how we can build new spells from nothing but trial and error.
Late at night, he finally figured out which delicate coils of magic and what fragile runes would pull signal through the trod in the garden and extend it all the way to our room.
After hours of work, he altered the rules of the world.
The moment it all clicked into place, my skin buzzed.
I wanted so badly to wake up, have my breakfast in bed, and continue learning about everything.
Instead, I woke up in a puddle of blood to sharp pains that sent Castor flying through the dark of the room to my side.
He cusses, then he lifts my phone. “Let’s try again. Maybe the new enchantment isn’t working. I can try in the human realm, if you’ll be okay for a moment alone.”
“It says there’s bars,” I whisper, scanning the screen and Pollux’s freshly-added contact.
“Maybe I recalled his number incorrectly, then.”
“Or possibly he just doesn’t recognize my number.”
Castor hisses, “If only the fool had seen fit to set up his voicemail.” Self-loathing streaks along our connection, and he mutters, “If only I remembered where I put my phone. I texted him yesterday. Maybe he replied. Maybe he has that number and would…” Wry laughter escapes him. “Would have already blocked me.”
“Stop that,” I whisper. “Please. That kind of negative talk doesn’t serve anything.” I reach, and he answers the request, immediately clasping my hand, tight.
“Forgive me, my love. You’re right. The pains of the past hardly matter in light of you.
” His forehead rests against our hands. “Your pain in this present is what I should focus on. Would that I could leave your side to make my petition in person…would that I trusted good might come of it… I cannot bear the idea that I might abandon you for the sake of naught. If I just remembered where last I left my…” A light of realization hits him, and he startles. “The garden.”
“The garden?” I murmur.
“I left my phone on the bench in the garden. Hold fast, my love. I will return swiftly.”
Releasing me, he leaves, so I do everything I can to dwell on him instead of the suffering. His emotions. His heart. His body as it moves. He reaches the pool exit and delves into the garden. He stops by the bench. He turns. He begins coming back to me.
I estimate the number of steps he takes.
I ask his racing heart to soothe me.
I count his breaths.
I do what I can to match them.
And then he’s within reach again, coming through his bedroom door, phone to his ear, heartbeat erratic.
A flood of tangled emotions hammer against him.
Then the line clicks, and his nerves leap.
“Polly?” Castor blurts, voice shaking.
Silence, then a rough, “Tor.”
Castor swears, and dampness darkens his blindfold as he finds my hand again, crushing it in his. We steal one another’s strength as he says, “Polly, please. I need help.”
Distant and low, Pollux says, “What’s wrong?”
“My mate is in a lot of pain, and the medicine isn’t working.
It’s been over an hour. Her—” he cusses, spite deepening the curse until it vibrates in my head, “—mother has had her on birth control since she was twelve. She’s facing a migraine and nausea on top of cramps, and the medicine isn’t—” he swears again, “—working.”
Inexplicably, Pollux mutters, “Does your bed still have traps under it?”
“I’ll remove them.”
“Okay. Let me get my supplies. Give me two minutes. It’s going to be okay, Tor. I’m on my way.”
When Pollux hangs up, Castor’s entire body goes limp.
Seated there on the edge of my bed, holding my hand, he rides the torrents of his emotions, battling for purchase amidst them.
Finally, he regains himself and stands. “The traps.” He squeezes my hand.
“Forgive me, my love. I need to dispel some things.”
I whimper as I lose his hand. “Why are there traps under your bed, Castor?”
“To stop the boogeymen from getting any ideas.” He leaves my cage, reaches his bed, and begins sewing glowing threads in the air, pulling knots until they come apart. “I don’t like nightmares. I prefer dreamless dark.”
I’m not sure I understand, but right at this exact moment…I’m not certain I really care.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I do everything I can to focus on the magic song as it unravels instead of the pain as it contorts.
?
Castor
Pollux is here. The last time Pollux was here, I had stolen his family. And he wasn’t here, in my room. He was in a different room. A room that I’ve since left overgrown and destroyed in the wake of Pila’s fury as a reminder that there’s someone in this world who can meet my eyes and live.
Pollux is here.
Because I asked for help.
Pollux came to help me.
After everything.
He…really is just about as righteous and good as Cael, isn’t he? No wonder they chipped me out. I truly was the one who didn’t fit in at all.
Palpable relief swells in me once whatever Pollux mixed up for Danielle shortly after he arrived hits her system and her pain eases.
As though immediately registering the lowered tension, my old friend mutters, “You shouldn’t keep your soulmate in a cage, Tor.” Despite my blindfold, I feel the big man’s body turn and his glare hit me. “What the actual—” he cusses, “—is this?”
I cross my arms. “Romantic.”
“No.”
I turn my face from the negativity. I could argue, but I’m not exactly keen on having an argument with someone who has just helped me. Even if he’s very wrong and I am very right.
Danielle’s pretty bird cage is lavish and cozy and elegant. It keeps her safe. Protecting and spoiling her is incredibly romantic. No matter what this loser says. I’ve researched this topic; he hasn’t.
Danielle starts to sit up, but Pollux murmurs, “Easy, dear. Give yourself a moment. The worst hasn’t happened yet.”
I sense the blood leave my beautiful girl, rushing from her face as she whispers, “What?”
I march forward and grip Pollux’s shoulder. “What do you mean?”
He sighs, lifts a hand, and rubs his face, talking to my mate instead of me. “You’ve been on birth control for a prolonged period. I assume it was progesterone based. In rare cases, this ups the risk of a decidual cast.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“It’s…when the lining of the uterus sheds in a single piece. As far as I can determine from the ultrasound I took, that’s what we’re dealing with.”
“And you can’t just…fix it?” My voice shakes as I gravitate toward Danielle’s hand, feel how cold it’s gone when I lace our fingers.
“It’s not something that needs to be fixed.
” Pollux blows out a breath and cuts his fingers through his hair.
“It’s painful, but harmless. It will pass, and the chances of it happening again are nill, especially if you move away from human birth control…
” He returns his attention to my mate. “…or more so even if you let Tor handle the contraceptive instead.”
I bristle. “Neither of us needs contraceptive at this point in time, Polly.”
“Well then, you’ll be fine.”
Fine? What part of this is fine? He’s just told us that the worst hasn’t even started, yet what already has left my mate struggling for air and in tears.
I don’t know that I have ever wanted to kill someone more than right in this precise moment.
I would very dearly like to torture Danielle’s mother within an inch of her life, again and again.
I understand now exactly the emotions that Alexios faced concerning Zahra’s abusive parents. I understand them perfectly.
And I hate that I maintain the other side of understanding.
Inflicting pain on the self-righteous does not result in anything.
It does little but solidify their deluded beliefs in their own grand narrative.
Furthermore, such heinous acts would bring Danielle no peace.
Breaking the broken is meaningless. It’s cruel.
It’s…not who I am anymore. It’s not who I want to be.
It’s not who she wants me to be.
Still, I hate knowing this anger cannot be satiated. I hate knowing that I have indulged in brutality time and again, to no end.
My mate was hurt. And there is nothing I can do about it.
There is no control I can gain over the past.
“Polly, is there anything else you can do to bring her relief?” I ask, spirit cracking.
“It’s likely to resolve within twenty-four hours, and once the tissue is expelled, pain levels will drop significantly, though bleeding will persist for several more days.
All I can do is leave you with medicine and the suggestion to keep warm.
Heat will help relax your muscles.” His low voice gets grumbly, “Beyond that, expect mood swings and other hormonal shifts.” His glare hits me again.
I reel back. “What? What did I do?”
“Consent is important,” he mutters.
I twitch because why do people keep telling me that? “Do I really seem like that kind of monster, Pollux?”
Parental, he plods on, “Consent isn’t consent while under clouded judgment, right, Tor?”
“Obviously.”
“Hormones influence one’s drive for intimacy. Hers are about to be…soupier than usual. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Ah.
Clearing my throat, I murmur, “Yes. I do.”
“Great.” He rises from Danielle’s bedside. Then he cracks his neck. Then he hits me in the shoulder.
I startle. “What in the universe was that for?”
“I felt like it,” he mutters, and then.
Then he hugs me.
Something inside my body…breaks.
I crush Danielle’s hand while I hang there in Pollux’s arms, feeling his heartbeat, his heat, his closeness. It’s a closeness I haven’t possessed in…ages.
His fingers dredge into my back with an urgency that suggests he can’t get me close enough, no matter how hard he might try. Breath fills and leaves him, and he mutters near my ear, “You’re different.”
My back straightens. “Whatever does that mean?”
“Xios gave me a lot to think about recently. But he’s right. You’ve changed, Tor.”
Bitterness coats my tongue. “Well. How nice. Now that I’m different, I suppose I’m good enough to associate with again? Now that I have a soulmate, you understand that the universe has deemed me worthy of affection? I suppose I should be overcome with joy, shouldn’t I?”
“Shut up, idiot.” Pollux sighs. “You’re no saint. You’re still you. You’ve just…grown. I think.”
“Loneliness will do that to a person.”
“Yeah, so will love.” He pulls back and thwacks me in the head.
The sensation is so familiar that it takes everything in me not to cry.
“It always was hard to get you to accept it, though. You never really believed it was real. But, I guess, when the universe shoves your soulmate into the picture, not even your overactive loathing can twist what that means into something self-effacing. I’ve always thought you were ‘worthy’ of love, Tor.
You’re the one who needed to be convinced. ”
Running my thumb over Danielle’s knuckles, I mutter, “Yeah? Well. Sucks to suck for you, because we quite recently decided that, actually, instead of becoming better people, we may very well become worse ones. So.” I sniff, indignant, not to hold back anything stupid like—I don’t know—tears.
“You better—” Another indignant sniff. “—watch out.”
Pollux hums. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, Tor.” He gathers his equipment. “I won’t be at movie night tomorrow. Meda made plans with some of her friends from school since they’re missing each other over summer break, and I have to chaperone.”
Pollux chaperoning children leaves me to believe I’m not the only one who has done some “growing.” Pretending I haven’t grown at all, though, I say, “Oh? Why should I care?”
“Next week, I’ll be there, but Cael has a meeting.”
I tense.
Pollux tosses his supply bag over one broad shoulder. “Come.”
“I don’t th—”
His large hand lands on my head, and I find myself…younger. All of a sudden. Even though I’m older than this oaf.
He repeats, “Come,” then he turns toward my bed. “And stop keeping your soulmate in a cage. It’s messed up.”
“It’s romantic,” I protest, feeling the moment he exits this plane in favor of another.
With a sigh, I shift my attention to Danielle and sit on her bed. Kissing her fingers, I say, “I’m sorry about that, love. It’s just… We haven’t…” It’s been an age since last we had an amicable conversation. “It doesn’t matter right this instant. The medicine he gave you…it’s working?”
“I’m scared,” she says. “It’s working right now, but…if the worst hasn’t happened yet…”
My heart aches. “I wish I could take the pain for you.”
“There is something you can do for me.”
“Anything.”
“I’m worried about Frel. Can you please find her and bring her home?”
Finding the hatchling…would undoubtedly send me to Cael’s palace.
Though I understand her worry. It has been three days.
By all my logic, the pixie should have worn herself out and returned to the point of her origin by now.
“I’m not sure I want to leave you alone at the moment, mine.
” Her heart dips, and I wince, calculating my options, remembering I have the luxury of friends.
Regaining my phone, I say, “I’ll ask Zahra to come care for you.
She is probably better suited given that this particular affliction leans heavily on a feminine burden. ”
Danielle’s head shakes. “You can’t do that. It’s Wednesday.”
I pause in lifting my phone to tell it to call Zahra. “Yes, and?”
“Zahra streams tonight.”
“She can cancel it.”
“I would never ask her to do something like that.”
I hum, bending to kiss my love’s forehead. “I know, sweet girl. You wouldn’t. But I most certainly would.”