Chapter 11
Eleven
Pythor
Oh right, we weren't done yet. Damn it, I'd started to relax.
Codie peered at me, his dark eyes full of curiosity and about a million questions. I liked how engaged he was, how in the moment. He had this tendency of drifting off—usually into the past—at random moments, but right then, he was fully in the present, and I didn't want that to change.
I just hoped he reacted just as favorably to this part as he had to the demon thing.
"Is it okay if I shift back? I'd like to sit while we talk."
Codie blinked, then nodded quickly. "Of course!"
He took a step back as I switched to my human form again, then followed him to the couch. We sat closer to each other than we had before, and I turned to face him, my knee almost brushing against his.
"Have you heard about the concept of soulmates?"
Codie pursed his lips as he thought about it, then asked, "Like the red string of fate thing?"
"Something like that."
"Yeah, I have," he said, and then his eyes widened, "Don't tell me that's real!"
"Not exactly," I hedged, then jumped into an explanation before he could draw his own conclusions.
"In this universe, every sentient being has one or more fated mates, a person or people whose soul perfectly aligns with theirs.
The bond can be romantic or platonic, or even between siblings.
It just means that the people the bond is between could share an emotional bond with each other that they'd never have with another person.
Supernatural beings can usually recognize their mates through one of their senses, or rarely, through mate marks or other signifiers.
Humans struggle a bit more, but usually, their instincts or subconscious can recognize their mate if they're willing to listen to it. "
Codie gazed at me unblinking the whole time I spoke, and when I finally stopped—a perk of not needing to breathe? I could ramble as long as I wanted to without needing to pause—he stared at me some more.
"Codie?"
He shook his head, hard, and his hands twisted in his lap, telling me that while he'd accepted my demon nature quite easily, he was struggling with this part.
"I..." He shook his head again, like he was struggling to gather his thoughts.
"If you'd like me to leave..." I offered, really hoping he'd shake his head again.
My stomach sank when he nodded instead, but I tried not to show it on my face as I murmured, "Okay."
Getting to my feet, I lingered for a moment before making my way to the living room doorway. "I'll lock the doors behind me," I said, and he nodded without looking up, even though he must have questions about how I'd do that.
Holding back a sigh, I went to the front door, using my magic to lock it back up once I was outside. I made sure to add a ward of my own around the place so I'd know if anyone tried to break in, then went back to my place.
Fuck, I really hoped Codie would be able to accept the mate thing. He'd been so adamant about not wanting anything romantic, and I'd tried to make sure he understood that it still didn't have to be, but I wasn't sure if I'd gotten the message across.
I wished I knew a platonic mated pair I could get Codie to talk to, but all my demon friends were stupidly romantic with their mates.
Still, maybe talking to other human mates would help Codie see that a fated bond only ever paired people who were compatible.
If he didn't want romance or sex, he'd never be paired with someone who wanted it, which was how he'd ended up with me.
I didn't think he'd believe me no matter how much I said it, but maybe he'd believe the others?
Pulling out my phone, I texted Elijah, Dakota, Archer, Kat, Matthew, and Jerry, explaining the situation and asking if they'd be willing to talk to my mate.
Their mates had given their numbers to all the demons, and all our numbers to them so they could always call on any of us in case of an emergency, and for once, I was glad for demons' overprotective nature.
Their replies poured in quickly, and I read them one by one.
Archer: I'd be happy to talk to him, but I think you should give him some space to absorb the news first.
Elijah: I can talk to him! Just give him my number!
Kat: Congratulations, Pythor! Fres told me your mate is your neighbor, and that you complained about him often, LOL. I'm glad that worked out well for you. I can talk to him, but I feel like this is a convo for you two. Maybe he just needs some time?
Jerry: Looks like you made some progress if you told him about the mate thing. I'd be happy to talk to him, but he might just need some time. It's easy for demons, but as humans, we've grown up not believing in fated mates, or magic, or any of it, so we struggle. Give him some time.
Matthew: Oh, hello, stranger. Congrats on finding your mate! How long ago did you tell him? If it was less than two days ago, you need to wait!
Dakota: Congrats, Pythor! I'm so happy for you! You need to stop being an impatient idiot and wait for him to talk to you. (This is Star, BTW) But don't be too patient! (Ryk) Don't listen to these two. Just give your mate some time. (Nico) What Nico said. (Dakota.)
I shook my head, throwing my phone on the couch as I slumped into it.
The message was clear: Give Codie some time.
I suppose I knew what I had to do. I just hoped he wouldn't decide to break all ties with me.
I didn't want to lose him, but I knew the ball was in his court.
I couldn't force him to accept our bond any more than I could force myself to break it.
Codie
Fated mates.
It was ludicrous to think such a thing could exist, but according to Pythor, it did, and he was mine.
"God, Hella, this is such a mess."
He'd said it could be a platonic thing, but every time I'd heard the term 'soulmates,' it'd been referring to a romantic pair.
It wasn't like I'd never want a romantic connection again. I wasn't aro, or even ace, but I didn't know how long it would take me to get there.
I wasn't afraid of being in a relationship with someone, not exactly. What had happened to me... it'd had nothing to do with love or relationships.
My fear lay in the fact that I struggled to trust anyone, and how could I ever love someone if I couldn't trust them?
Then there was the fact that if we were in a relationship, my partner would want sex, and I didn't know if I'd be able to give that to him.
Just the thought of someone touching me like that made me nauseous.
What did it mean if Pythor was my perfect match? He'd told me he wouldn't be romantically interested in me unless I was into him, but beyond that? Was Pythor not interested in sex at all?
God, my head was a fucking mess.
Getting to my feet, I made my way to the kitchen, Hella at my heels.
While it was time for dinner, I wasn't hungry, so I just poured some food into Hella's bowl—wait, if she was a demonhound, and demons were dead, did that mean she was too?
Did she need to eat? Did Pythor?—and then went to my studio, pushing back the million questions and worries and the darkness swirling in my head.
I eyed the commission I'd been working on, but it was too happy for my current mood. Instead, I was drawn to the painting I'd been avoiding.
My eyes roamed over the red-and-black canvas, the memories from that night trying to fill my mind the longer I stared at it.
I eyed the red streak at the bottom, and it reminded me of the streaks of blood I left behind as I dragged myself toward the road, bleeding and so fucking close to death.
The black streaks were like shadows from which those men watched me, his eyes the brightest of them all, blue and so fucking cold it sent a shiver through me even now.
Grabbing my brush and palette, I started painting over it, using the same colors and some brown to turn this painting that scared me so damned much into something else, something better.
I worked until my wrist ached, until my fingers felt numb and clumsy around the brush. Sweat covered the back of my neck and my scalp, my eyes burning from how long I'd spent staring at the canvas.
When I came back to myself, all those little pains and more filled me all at once, and I felt tired. I felt like I'd fall asleep right then and there, and I carefully placed my brush and palette onto their stool, then gazed at the painting.
The colors were still the same red and black, but there was no speck of blue now.
Instead, there was brown, warm, soft and kind.
The eye wasn't watching me with lust and anger and that terrifying coldness anymore.
Instead, it shone with warmth and comfort as it watched over me, the red and black streaks reminding me of big, leathery wings that circled the crumpled black form streaked in red, protecting the bleeding, broken thing from everything that might cause it harm.
As I stared at the painting, my eyes watered, and my throat felt like there was a boulder stuck in it. I tried swallowing hard, but it refused to leave as my vision grew blurry, and I fell to my knees right there in front of my easel.
Hella raced into the room as the first sob escaped my lips, and I grabbed onto her, burying my face in her soft, warm fur as I cried.
My chest ached as memories old and new swirled around in my mind, as old dreams and new hopes crashed into each other, as I tried to just catch my fucking breath and not get overwhelmed by it all.
I wished Pythor was here to wrap his big, warm wings around me, to cocoon me in them and protect me from the world.
I didn't care what the fated mates thing meant to him. I didn't care if it would be romantic or platonic for us. I didn't care about anything except the fact that I needed Pythor. I needed him, and he wasn't here because I'd stupidly sent him away.
"H-hella," I choked out, clearing my throat as I pulled back, wincing as I tried to rub away the wetness from her fur. "Can you get Pythor?"
She peered at me for a moment, and before I could get up to open the door for her, she... disappeared.
I stared at the spot she'd been, too shocked to do much but stare as more tears trailed down my cheeks.
I wasn't sure if I'd sat there for five seconds or five hours, but then Pythor was there, kneeling before me, and I threw myself at him clinging to him as my whole body shook and more tears spilled out, coating his neck.
"I want it," I murmured desperately against his skin, clinging to him as he held me close, his warm palm rubbing up and down my back. "I want to be your mate. I don't care about any of it. Just—don't leave."
"Shhh, I'm not going anywhere," Pythor murmured, and a moment later, I felt those warm, wonderful wings wrap around me, until all I could feel was him. Pythor was all around me, and I'd never felt safer.