Chapter 33 Marta
Marta
I sensed them coming before I saw them. The void in my heart filled with their presence, the rough grit of Atlas’s whirlwind personality and the stoic shame of Wes’s guilt.
I was in the library at a table in the far back, researching soul bonds.
After my talk with Hellsing, I thought about asking the coven to perform a separating spell.
If my tie to my warriors was causing me to lose control of my magic, maybe it would be better to sever it cleanly.
But the more I read, the more I realized that wouldn’t be possible. What we’d done was permanent, and severing it would have detrimental effects on my psyche. Besides, I would need them to do it anyway, and I wasn’t sure when or if they’d ever come back.
When I heard heavy footsteps on the wood floor, I swallowed down the tiny flicker of anticipation. They might have returned only to tell me they were done with the life altogether. And if that was the case, why not just stay away? I’d gotten the message, loud and clear.
Their beacon burned brighter inside me until it grew into an inferno, and when I glanced up, my warriors stood at the end of the row.
Atlas had on jeans, boots, and his brown leather jacket, sporting a black eye and a smug grin.
Wes wore a dark hoodie and a matching shiner that spoke of how their reunion had gone.
I raised an eyebrow and closed my book. Everything in me wanted to run to them, to pull them both into a hug before dragging them back to my room and taking out the six weeks of anxiety on them with sweat, cum, and blood. I forced myself to stay still.
“Welcome home,” I said as I glanced between them.
Wes took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he wanted to say. “Marta, I…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Out loud,” I said, trying to push his presence away from my mental solace. “You don’t get to be in my head. Not yet.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have left. I thought I was protecting you, but I just made things worse.”
“Worse? For me?” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “I’m fine. Look at me.” I gestured to myself and the library and the piles of books stacked around me. “Doing great.”
“Don’t be like that,” Atlas said, taking a step forward. “You’re wasting away. We all are.”
“Atlas Colt, the great reconciliator.” I let out a sardonic chuckle. “Don’t make me gag.”
“I fucked up,” Wes continued, moving to stand next to me. “This thing, this void, it’s still inside me. I can feel it, and I didn’t want it to spread. I didn’t want it to hurt you. I thought leaving would help…somehow.”
“Did you think that before or after Atlas fucked—”
“Hey,” Atlas snapped. “Cut the shit. You’re allowed to be mad. Just don’t be cruel.”
“Why?” I barked. “That’s your job?”
Atlas tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, but his brother was undeterred.
“I was dealing with my own shit. It’s not an excuse, but I understand now,” Wes said, his voice quiet.
He dropped to his knees at my feet and rested his hands tentatively on my calves, his eyes pleading, the agony of his distress seeping through the bond despite how much I didn’t want to feel it.
I didn’t want to feel anything. But I did.
And I couldn’t stop it. “I think Atlas is right. We need to be together. We need to stay together. We can’t survive alone.
I love you, and if you can find it in your soul to forgive me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you. ”
I love you.
My resolve crumbled, and the weight of his confession anchored me to the present, one where I had my warriors back and they wanted to stay, and I was being a bitch just to save my pride.
Their absence had hurt, yes, but forcing them away would only do more harm than good. I needed them. We needed each other.
I leaned forward and cupped his jaw, the touch sizzling down my hands, into my arms, and straight to my heart. The emptiness plaguing me for the last six weeks suddenly overflowed with the magnetic adoration between us. We had survived hell, and nothing could shake that bond.
“Don’t you ever leave me again,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to his.
He gripped my wrists, the weight of his fingers pressing into my pulse like he was hanging on to life itself. “I won’t. I swear it.”
I lowered my head to press my lips to his in a tender kiss full of release and forgiveness. When I pulled back, I took a deep breath and looked at Atlas, who beamed like he’d just witnessed pure beauty in its rarest form.
“And you,” I said, pushing to my feet. I stalked around the table, dragging my fingers against the cool wood until I stood in front of him.
I should be furious with him. Our last conversation ended with him storming out and me sinking into chaos.
But he’d brought Wes back to us. He’d come home.
He hadn’t given up, even when I was at my lowest. He’d earned my gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, don’t mention it,” he said with that smug expression that made me want to punch him just to wipe it off his face. “I don’t suppose I get a kiss, too, huh?”
I pressed my body against his and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down to connect our lips. He hummed into the touch, and when we broke apart, a sense of rightness settled in my gut. I felt complete in a way I never had before.
“You know, I may have forgiven you both, but Bridge and Tita are another story.”
Atlas winced, and Wes had the decency to look terrified.
“What are you researching?” Wes asked, glancing down at the books on the table.
“Right.” I nodded and ran my hands back through my hair. “I think I know what happened to us, and what we have to do about it.”
I explained what I’d learned and watched as Atlas’s features dropped into frustrated reluctance. At least Wes seemed curious enough to pick up a book and flick through its pages.
“No,” Atlas protested. “No more rituals. No more spells.”
“If it fixes things,” I said, “it could be worth it.”
“We’re back together now,” he continued. “That’s enough.”
“No.” I flexed my fingers, remembering the black mist pouring from my palms. “We need to see it through. My magic mutated because we didn’t finish it. Besides, whatever void is inside us, whatever this is, spreading it out will even the playing field. It’ll help.”
Atlas crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips, petulant but willing to concede my point. Wes hummed and shrugged.
“Worth a shot,” he said, which earned a groan from his brother.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” Atlas pinched the bridge of his nose and grabbed a book, settling in next to us to see what he could find.
Just like old times.
Later that night, after we’d discussed it until our eyelids grew heavy, they followed me back to my room, where I closed the door and quietly turned the lock into place.
I didn’t know what the others thought about both Atlas and Wes sharing my bed, nor did I care.
I was sure they gossiped in dark corners and spread rumors about the brothers that fucked the same girl (and maybe each other?) but I let them talk.
No one else could know what it was between us.
No one else had been there, had lived through the things we had together.
We took our time undressing each other, kissing and worshipping our favorite parts as the soft rustling sounds of clothing hit the floor. Atlas laughed when Wes bit a ticklish part of his ribs, and Wes sighed when I licked a long line up his throat.
Our thoughts blended together, a mix of “More” and “Please” and “I love you, I love you, I love you.” The combined sensations could bring me to climax on their own, and when we fell into bed, a tangle of limbs and mouths and tongues, we explored each other’s bodies like it was the first time.
We loved and we caressed and we reconnected in the only way we’d ever known.
And when it was over, we fell asleep wrapped around each other like daylight may never come.
Life went on.
True to form, both Bridge and Tita reprimanded my warriors with sternly pointed fingers and a litany of expletives that promised the unholy wrath of hell should they ever think of taking off again.
Then Tita served them lemon cakes and hot tea and told them she expected them to come by this weekend to help her rebuild part of her greenhouse that had fallen in during a recent storm.
The other warriors were less forgiving. Leander and Caspian put the Colts through the ringer.
Despite explaining what had happened and why they’d left, the warriors didn’t abandon post when things got tough.
It was one of their guiding principles. In the end, Atlas and Wes escaped with a severe reduction in responsibilities for up to a year.
No missions. No weapons. Supervised reconnaissance only.
They’d broken their trust, and it would take a long time to get it back.
Two weeks after they returned, I had Lilith’s blessing to complete the soul-binding ritual on the sacred grounds out in the woods.
It made sense. This was where it all began for us, all those months ago when the ancestors plucked their name out of an ancient chalice and tied them to me forever.
We’d bathed each other and rubbed protective oils on our skin, pausing at the scars on our chests and palms. We prepared the altar with rue, roses, lavender, and candles.
We’d dressed in white ceremonial robes, the same ones we’d used in the liminal, and when the full moon rose in the sky, I sent the guys ahead of me, knowing I needed to make one more recompense.
I went to the small altar I’d set up in my room, the one where I’d placed a small crucifix, a seven-day candle dedicated to the Virgin, a miniature sword, and a tiny plastic dragon. Then, I fell to my knees, clasped my hands together, and prayed.