Chapter Two
I ’m pacing like a crazy fucker.
I can’t help it. I feel like this wound-up ball of energy and if I sit for too long, I start getting anxious. It’s been two fucking days.
Two of the longest days of my entire fucking life.
Half-way through day one, I had given up on the sweet encouraging shit I was whispering to her, and tried to just shake Forsythia awake.
It didn’t work of course.
When I slapped her an hour later to try and bring her out of it, Orobas forced me to take some space and go for a swim.
That didn’t help either.
So I resorted to gathering supplies. All the supplies. Random bits of shit I snatch up that we probably won’t need at all, but it helps fill the void of my hours. At least the bits between screaming at the Gods and demanding my mate and brother returned, and all the blade sharpening.
Although the blade sharpening might be what is making Orobas the most uncomfortable. As if I would ever do anything to my mate’s father. Alright, to be fair, I might have spent a little time threatening him because if my brother hadn’t saved his ass, then he and Forsythia would be here.
My mind circles back to supplies. Some weird fucking coping mechanism I’ve developed, but since it’s not hurting anyone, I give in. Running through a mental checklist, I take stock of everything I have managed to get. I have food, water, blankets, wood for a fire… and it still doesn’t feel like enough.
I just want her to come back.
Not in a little while. Not in a few hours or worse, days. I want her back with me now .
I know she won’t leave until she finds Lucian, and I would never ask her to leave him behind, but why can’t they just hurry the fuck up? Just snatch that crazy drys and get back to their bodies. It’s that simple.
Right?
A few times the tiny pull on my mate tether had me screaming into the nothingness.
Heart-stopping fear made me worry that she was trying to find her way back to me. That she was stuck and needed me. But what the fuck could I do?
I don’t have the ability to travel to the Between.
So instead, I wait.
And wait.
I thought losing my hand and getting the shit beat out of me was torture after feeling Forsythia’s bond fizzle out when she died. But this?
This is so much fucking worse.
Yeah, losing my hand had hurt like hell, and I nearly bled to death from the magick-dampening ropes those asshole cultists used. But this pain is different. Saying my heart is aching just doesn’t even come close. This pain is much deeper. My literal soul is suspended in a slow agony that never actually intensifies but never subsides, either. It’s just… constant.
I felt this pain before. When she actually did die. I couldn’t do anything to help her then either.
My mind begins to spiral, and I have no hope of stopping it.
Why the fuck did Forsythia even choose me as a mate?
I’ve been rejected by both halves of my being. My own mother couldn’t love me, and my father? He just sees me as a reminder of what he once had. True love. Too bad Mom didn’t feel that way about him. Not that the fact comforts me at all.
But what is it that I have to offer Forsythia?
I’m weaker than her fae mate.
I glance down at my hand. Unable to see any scarring or anything that would hint that this hand is not actually my own. I focus harder, but I still see nothing to prove the disfigurement that I feel inside.
Orobas snores lightly, and the sound pulls me out of my personal pity party.
Forsythia loves me. I know this in my heart. I feel it in our bond. A small spark of shame washes over me for doubting any of the bond we share, or why. It’s a treasure.
I vow to hoard it like a greedy little dragon.
Shifting my focus, I pause for a moment and simply watch Orobas as he lays on his side. One hand holds onto Forsythia’s pinky finger, needing that contact. He has barely left his daughter’s side since she went after her fae mate. I can’t blame him, but seeing him sleep makes me even grouchier.
Jealousy is a mean monster, and until I feel whole again, that monster lives in me. Jumping around wildly and not giving two shits, how exhausted it’s making me.
I’ve only been able to sleep for an hour or so since she left.
Everything feels muted.
The sun starts setting again, pulling my attention away from my tiredness, and I realize that in a handful of hours, it will be three days. Fear grips onto my heart and squeezes tightly. What if she never comes back?
My heart is racing, and my breathing comes in shallow gulps. A panic attack.
I never had fucking panic attacks before I had a mate. She is damn lucky she is worth it because this fucking sucks balls.
Mine tightened at the mere thought of her. Our bond is way too new for her to be gone like this.
When a new bond is confirmed, the mates usually spend an entire week together. Cementing their bond, and learning each other. Likes, dislikes, the feel of their body against yours.
I’m not delusional. I knew that we wouldn’t have that when we confirmed our bond almost four days ago. But I hadn’t expected… well, this to happen either.
I just want her back. And if I am being completely honest with myself? I miss the big guy, too.
The three of us are a family now.
For the first time in more years than I can remember, I whisper a quiet prayer to the Gods.
Please send my love, and my brother, back to me.
Forcefully if necessary?