Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Shae’s List of Life Goals
5. Swim in the ocean as much and as often as possible.
(Addendum: Swim, and maybe do other stuff, in the ocean with Wolf Boy)
Shae
True to his word, Dallas wastes no time in finding a therapist for me.
First, I have to undergo a visit with an Otherkind medical doctor who does a comprehensive examination to assess my overall physical state after so many years of mistreatment and imprisonment.
Apart from the ugly scar on my neck, my body doesn’t show a lot of signs of lingering trauma.
As I suspected, however, I am a bit malnourished from Margaret’s sadistic tendency to withhold food when I didn’t “behave” for her. Based on the gleam that assessment brought to Dallas’s eyes, I have no doubt that he’ll be focusing intently on fattening me up as quickly as possible.
I’d never say it to his face, but it’s super sweet in a fatherly kind of way.
Or at least what I’ve imagined caring fatherly behavior might be like. I wouldn’t really know since my dad’s always been an unfeeling prick.
I’ve quickly realized that what everyone else has told me about the man is true. Dallas is indeed the Papa Bear of this weird band of misfits I now find myself a part of. He’s big and loud, full of enthusiasm—but he’s also very much a caregiver to his core. I can tell just from watching from the sidelines for a few days how much he takes care of his friends.
Or rather, I suppose they are a family of sorts. I don’t know everyone’s backstory, but it’s clear they’re a tightly knit group that supports each other. Honestly, I’m majorly envious.
Everyone in this house has shown me genuine kindness and concern, but I’m still an awkward outsider.
I know a lot of that’s on me. They’re doing everything to include me, but I’m being the standoffish one.
In any case, I’m still finding my way and learning how to fit in with these people, so I spend a lot of time looking in rather than participating. Wolf Boy tries his hardest to pull me out of my shell, and having Emma around does make me engage more than I might otherwise, but part of me is still wary. I don’t know that I trust all of this just yet. It’s too easy for everything to fall apart.
Sometimes I worry it’s all a dream and I’ll wake up only to find myself back in hell.
“How are you adjusting to life at the compound?” Dr. Greenwater asks me.
She’s half-siren like me, and I suspect that Dallas deliberately chose her because of that. An attractive older woman with dark hair streaked with silver that she still wears long, Dr. Greenwater exudes a calm professionalism that instantly puts me at more ease than I expected. Her eyes, a pale shade of gray behind her red cat eye glasses, study me with interest.
I shrug. “Okay, I guess.”
She arches an eyebrow at me. “Do you like living with Dallas and the others?”
I shift uneasily in my seat and let out a bitter laugh. “It’s better than where I was living, or rather existing, before.” Almost anywhere would be better than that hellhole.
“I’m sure it is,” she says softly. “Why don’t you tell me how you’ve been spending your time this past week?”
I shrug again. “Sleeping a lot. I’m just tired all the time.”
It’s incredibly annoying.
Dr. Greenwater nods. “That’s understandable given all that you’ve gone through. It’s a common post-trauma response. You’ve spent most of your life on guard and in self-protection mode. Now that you’re free and safe, your body has finally been able to let go and take a much-needed hiatus from that constant high-alert mode.”
I guess that makes sense, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
I run a hand through my hair. “It’s kind of frustrating. I feel like I ought to be doing something.”
“Taking care of yourself, letting yourself rest, is doing something. Something very important.”
“If you say so,” I grouch.
She smiles, not the least bit fazed by my attitude. “Other than sleeping, what have you been doing with your time?”
I turn my head to the sky and let the bright sunshine bathe my face as the salty air caresses my skin. We’re sitting out on the patio leading down to the beach because Dallas had Dr. Greenwater come to the compound for my appointment. He and the others are still in very vigilant protective mode since Margaret undoubtedly has people looking for me by now.
I appreciate it, but it’s also kind of aggravating. After spending years trapped and hidden away, I want to be able to move freely in the world—and I worry that I might never be able to.
“I’ve been swimming a lot,” I admit.
“That’s excellent. The ocean is a natural habitat for our kind and one we should never spend too long away from.”
I turn my gaze to the water. “Well, I wasn’t allowed to visit the ocean after my mother died. I was forced to stay on dry land for the past fifteen years.”
Dr. Greenwater’s left eye twitches, but otherwise, she manages to keep a placid expression on her face.
“Shae, I’m sure Dallas and the others have already told you this, but you are a remarkable young man. There aren’t many of our kind that could have endured that kind of torment for so long, not on top of everything else you went through.” She clears her throat. “I’m very glad that you’ve been able to return to the sea. Have you found its waters to be therapeutic?”
“Very much. I go every day now, usually several times a day.”
Wolf Boy follows me every single time too.
I was able to get Dallas to buy me some swim trunks, but Griffin goes au naturel every time. Part of me wonders if he’s trying to tease me.
Or seduce me.
I can’t deny my eyes have been drawn to his gorgeous body on more than one occasion when he’s run naked down the beach and into the waves.
“I also keep my balcony doors open at night so I can smell the sea salt in the air and hear the waves lapping against the shore. It helps keep away some of the nightmares.”
Okay, if I’m being honest, something else has been helping keep away the nightmares too.
Or rather, I should say someone else.
Wolf Boy’s grinning face pops into my head. That blinding smile of his, the hint of fang popping down over his lip, and those big fluffy ears have become a weird kind of mental image for me to meditate on when I get upset.
“How often are you having nightmares?” Dr. Greenwater asks.
I shift uneasily again in my chair. “Here and there.”
“Do you want to talk about them?”
“Not really. Mostly they’re just bad memories.”
“Do you need a sleeping aid? I can prescribe something.”
“I don’t think so. Like I said, swimming in the ocean has helped and so has—” I cut myself off.
She tilts her head, an inquiring look in her pale gray eyes. “Please continue. What else has been helping?”
I cross my arms over my chest but decide to tell her the truth. “Well, the first night I had a bad nightmare. Probably because I ended up telling Dallas and the others some of my past and what happened to my mom. Anyway, Wolf Boy—I mean, Griffin—came to check on me, and he…” I trail off.
She waits patiently, her steady gaze never leaving my face.
I sigh. “Don’t laugh, okay? He… cuddled with me until I fell back asleep.”
“Why would I laugh at that?”
“I don’t know. Seems a little childish, I guess.”
Her expression fills with sorrow. “Nonsexual physical comfort, whether from cuddling or hugging, is something most of us need even after we become adults.”
I look away, keeping my eyes on the horizon. “My mom was the only one who ever did that for me, and that was when I was a kid.”
“Were you all right with Griffin cuddling you? Did he ask for your permission?”
I frown. “It’s weird. I didn’t mind it at all. He did ask for my permission, and even I was surprised when I said yes. Normally, I don’t like people I don’t know well touching me.”
“It’s not uncommon, especially given the kind of abuse and trauma you suffered,” Dr. Greenwater offers.
I shake my head. “There’s just something about Wolf B— Griffin that doesn’t inspire fear, you know? It’s like he somehow stealthily slipped past all my defenses before I even knew it.”
She gives me a small smile. “I have met Mr. McIntyre and I do believe I understand what you mean.”
I throw my hands up in the air. “Right?! I mean, the guy is like some kind of adorable cartoon plushie come to life. He has this perky, happy-go-lucky personality that ought to drive me utterly bonkers, yet I find myself instinctively drawn to it.”
And him.
Dr. Greenwater’s lips twitch with amusement. “So you enjoyed cuddling with him?”
I feel my cheeks warm.
Fuck yes, I did.
Griffin McIntyre is a cuddling genius. But I’ll never admit that to him or anyone else.
“I guess so,” I grumble. “It was nice to know that I was safe. I felt like I could truly relax my guard for once.” I look down at my lap and mumble, “So, uh, he’s kind of been climbing into bed with me every night to cuddle.”
Dr. Greenwater’s eyes widen behind her glasses. “Indeed?”
I hold up a hand to forestall any deeper meaning being read into this. “For the record, it’s not what you’re thinking. Our cuddling is completely platonic.” Let’s not mention the conspicuous morning boners. “He just cuddles me and stays with me while we sleep.”
Dr. Greenwater taps a finger on her chin. “I see. However, this is also the same young man who claims to be your fated mate, correct?”
I cringe. “That’s what he says, but I don’t trust in that kind of thing.”
“Because of your mother?”
Agitation rises in me. “Of fucking course. I saw all the ways having a fated mate can go wrong. It isn’t some perfect fairy-tale ending for everyone. Besides, I don’t want to have to rely on anyone but myself, and I sure as shit don’t want to be tied to another person in a way that curtails my hard-won freedom.”
Dr. Greenwater considers this for a moment. “It’s perfectly understandable that you have these sentiments toward being a fated mate. Have you tried talking with Griffin about this though?”
I look away again. “Not really. I told him flat out that I didn’t believe in that crap, but he’s still sticking to me like glue. For now, he told me he wants me to focus on healing from what I’ve been through. But I don’t like the idea of stringing him along, even though I like having him around. There’s something about him that makes me feel safe. I just don’t think I can ever give him what he wants.”
And the idea of hurting Griffin rubs me the wrong way.
Once, a very long time ago, I’d been trusting and hopeful just like him, naively believing the best in people. Then I experienced the cold, dark truth.
For reasons I don’t like to consider too closely, I don’t want to be the one to shatter that illusion for Griffin. And selfishly, I don’t want to lose him from my life either.
The whole situation is messed up and so is my fucking head.
Dr. Greenwater hums to herself in thought. “Many relationships begin as friendships. Perhaps, rather than focusing on the fated-mate situation, you could try developing a friendship with Griffin first and see where it might go?”
I hesitate. “Is that fair to him though? Especially if, in the end, I can’t accept this bond he believes we share.”
“Maybe let Griffin decide about that. He is an adult and can make his own choices. I suspect he is willing to take anything you are prepared to give him, even if it is only friendship, but he must be allowed to make that decision himself. For most Otherkind, fated mates is serious business. Griffin is already devoted to you in ways you may not fully understand or even want to accept.”
I sigh and lean back in my patio chair. I can’t deny what she’s saying, but I also don’t know how to deal with it. If I could just cut ties with Griffin, that would make things so much easier. The coldly rational side of my mind tells me it’s what I should do. But the rest of me revolts at the very notion.
Will my life ever not be complicated? I feel like a whiny, angsty little emo asshole, and I fucking hate it.
“I’m pleased to hear that Griffin has been able to help you sleep, and I would encourage you to keep up your nightly cuddling as long as it continues to work. Getting proper sleep is a critical part to healing your mind and helping bring your body out of its constant survival mode. It will take some time to reset your system, so just listen to your instincts in the meantime.”
Okay, I have an official doctor’s order to keep up nightly cuddle fests with Griffin. That makes me a lot less anxious about it.
Dr. Greenwater looks at the clipboard in her lap before turning her gaze back on me. “Let’s talk a little bit about your maternal siren relatives. Dallas tells me that MEOW Squad has made contact with your mother’s sept and is in the process of coordinating a meeting with your grandmother. How do you feel about that?”
I arch an eyebrow at her and scowl. “How the hell do you think I feel?”
She fixes me with her steady, unflinching gaze, and I run a hand through my hair.
“Sorry. I don’t know how to feel about it. Confused, mostly. I haven’t seen any of my mother’s family since I was quite young. Honestly, I don’t remember any of them. I have some vague recollections of an island, but that’s about it. Part of me is angry too. Where have they been all this time? Why weren’t they looking for me or my mother?” I huff. “I’m not sure I really want to try to rekindle some kind of connection with them now just because they’re related to me by blood.”
“Hmm. I see your point. However, do you think there might be some value in spending time with other sirens and learning more about your culture? After all, your mother died when you were quite young, and you were never able to learn more about the siren culture taught when our kind enters puberty and adulthood. For instance, you have not been tested to ascertain your magical gifts yet. Although you have clearly learned to use a little bit of your sirensong, you may not be fully aware of what effects your songs can have. No sirensong is entirely the same—and yours has been inhibited for most of your life by the power-restraining effects of that collar you were forced to wear.”
My hand automatically goes up to feel my neck in response to her words.
I find myself touching my throat often these days, tracing the scar there. While it’s a horrific reminder of that sadistic device, it’s also oddly reassuring. With every touch, I am reminded that the collar is gone and all that remains is the mark it left on my skin.
I think about Dr. Greenwater’s words. “I suppose I’d like to learn more about my people. And my powers.” I frown. “Although I don’t know how receptive my mother’s sept is to half-sirens like myself. I certainly haven’t found a lot of acceptance among humanity.”
Dr. Greenwater smiles sadly. “It’s true. Many on both sides of the equation are ignorant and prejudiced toward those who are different. Some Otherkind reject interspecies relationships and the offspring that can result from them, but that is not the case for everyone. I would encourage you to go into meeting your mother’s family with an open mind. You can probably bring Griffin with you to back you up. Your other new friends might want to stay by your side to support and protect you too. Remember, you’re not alone anymore.”
Friends? Is that what they are? I don’t know yet. It’s only been a week, but I can say that everyone in the compound has welcomed me with open arms. I’m slowly getting to know each of them a little better, but I still find it hard to spend long periods of time talking with people. After so many years with only Haku as my daily companion, I struggle to interact with others for more than short bursts of time here and there. The only one I seem to tolerate is Griffin, who follows me everywhere with eager-puppy energy.
Why he’s the exception to the rule for just about everything with me, I refuse to contemplate—and I sure as shit don’t want to hear any of the fated-mate nonsense that he or others might want to spout in response. That can’t possibly be the reason.
I blame it entirely on his stupidly cute physiognomy instead. Who can say no to that face? Or those ears and tail?
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it
“How has the medication the doctor prescribed for you been working?”
“It’s only been a couple of days. It seems like my anxiety is less constant, but beyond that, I don’t know.”
I also wonder how much Griffin’s SCSS, as he calls it, is playing a part in that. Secretly, I suspect it’s doing a hell of a lot more than the meds are.
She nods and jots something down on her clipboard. “It’ll take a while for the antidepressants to start working in your system. Give them time.”
I scowl again. “Still don’t know that I’d describe myself as being depressed.”
She smiles kindly. “The medication you’re on is often prescribed as an antidepressant but also is used to assist those with PTSD. It can help with a variety of symptoms.”
I shut my mouth, biting back a protest.
Her expression becomes firm. “Anyone who experienced what you did would have PTSD of some kind, Shae. It’s not something to be ashamed of. To be honest, your mental fortitude and endurance are stronger than many patients I’ve worked with. But that same strength that protected you in tough times can also close you off from others now. I hope that in time you will learn to be able to trust again, find friends and loved ones who will be there for you and be a crucial support network in your life, even if that isn’t the people in this household. I don’t want you to isolate yourself through a desire to protect yourself.”
I chuckle. “Wolf Boy—I mean, Griffin—wouldn’t let me do that even if I want to.”
She smirks. “Tell me why you think that is.”
I walked right into that one, didn’t I?
I consider for a moment. “He’s stupidly optimistic and has so much energy that it makes me exhausted just looking at him sometimes. But he’s also probably the most sincere, earnest person I’ve ever met. He seems to care about me a lot, although I don’t have the foggiest idea why.”
My brain stutters over that memory of him telling me he loves me and I bring my knees up to my chest. “He said he loves me, but that’s preposterous. He barely knows me! Is that how this fated-mates bullshit is supposed to work? Instalove?” I scoff. “Talk about ridiculous. That’s something out of a fairy tale or romance novel, not reality.”
“You don’t believe in love at first sight?”
“Fuck no. I don’t know that I believe in love, period.”
Dr. Greenwater nods solemnly. “You certainly haven’t seen many examples of healthy love in your life.”
No shit.
Her eyes soften. “What about your mother? She loved you, didn’t she?”
I feel a deep twinge of pain in my chest. “Yeah,” I admit, my voice hoarse. “She did, but it didn’t save her in the end. And it certainly didn’t save me.”
“Maybe not in the ways you think, but her love has stayed with you even long after her passing.”
I feel a faint prickling at the corner of my eyes and I’m startled. I haven’t cried in years. I was convinced I’d lost the ability—and maybe I have, because the prickling goes away and my eyes remain dry.
“I loved my mom more than anything. And when she died, my world became dark and dreary, full of never-ending loneliness and pain.” I glare at Dr. Greenwater. “Why would I want to go through any of that again?”
“Love can be painful. It hurts to lose those we care about, but love can also be beautiful and wondrous. You love Haku, don’t you?”
I instinctively reach up and pet my best friend, who nuzzles his little dragon face into my neck in reply and makes a contented rumbling noise.
“Of course I do. But Haku is different.”
She cocks her head. “In what way?”
I think about that for a minute, suspecting this is a trap. “Well, he’s bonded to me for life. He’s my best friend and he’s been with me through everything. There’s no one I trust more than Haku.”
The tiny drake steps forward onto my shoulder and makes a trilling noise of satisfaction as he puffs out his chest.
I chuckle.
Dr. Greenwater gives us both a beautiful smile. “Your relationship is wonderful, and I think Haku was a crucial factor in your ability to survive for so many years in the circumstances you were trapped in. However, maybe consider the notion that there could be others out there worthy of your love and trust, people who could reciprocate just as well as Haku.”
I snort. “I sincerely doubt it.”
Dr. Greenwater gives me a small, secretive smile. “I’m not trying to preach to you here. But I do think it’s healthy to open yourself up to new connections with others. It isn’t just you and Haku trapped in that cell anymore. There’s a whole wide world ahead of you, and new people to meet and happy new memories to make. All I ask is that you give yourself that chance. I don’t want you retreating inward in an unhealthy manner.”
I hear what she’s saying and even though I’m scared, I want to make up for lost time and experience things I never got the chance to before.
Dr. Greenwater looks at her watch. “Our time is nearly up. I’d like to see you again soon. My suggestion is that we have sessions at least two to three times a week as you are acclimating to your new life. We can taper off once things level out for you.”
While I’m not thrilled by that idea, I nod reluctantly. If it’s something that can help me take control of my life again, then I’ll keep doing it.
“I’d also like you to start journaling at least once a day,” Dr. Greenwater says.
I blink at her. “Journaling?”
“Yes. It can be a useful technique to help you process things we discuss and whatever you’re dealing with on a daily basis. I’m going to leave this fairly open-ended for you, but I want you to spend thirty minutes a day writing in your journal. You can write about things that you’re enjoying now, worries or questions that you have, maybe even dreams that you’ve been trying to work through. Anything, really, that comes to mind. And some of them will be things that we can potentially talk about in our sessions, but this is primarily a tool to help you work through the past as well as the present, and start believing in the future.”
“I can try,” I agree begrudgingly.
She stands and reaches out her hand to shake mine. I also get to my feet and shake the proffered hand firmly. “Thank you for coming all the way out here.”
“It was my pleasure, Shae. I only want to help you, and I hope that, if you have questions about your siren side and don’t feel you can talk with your grandmother or other relatives, you’ll feel comfortable to ask me. I’m happy to try and answer to the best of my ability.” She squeezes my hand and lets go. “Remember, you’re not alone. You’ve ended up in a good place here. I’ve known Dallas for a long time. He and his ragamuffin crew are a bit eccentric, I know, but they’re all good people—and devoted to aiding Otherkind who’ve been mistreated and abused. They’ll help you get on your feet and to a place where you can start thinking about what you want for your life moving forward.”
After Dr. Greenwater leaves, I brew myself some tea and retreat to my room. She had prepared everyone in advance, letting them know that therapy sessions can be quite draining so they should allow me space afterward to be on my own for a while.
I’m grateful she did so because I hadn’t realized how true it was.
Griffin watched my every movement in the kitchen as I prepared my tea, his ears and tail drooping. It was obvious he wanted to glom onto me, but I’m glad he didn’t.
I simply gave everyone a faint smile and told them I would be in my room for a little while, and they gave me space.
I sit on my bed and pull out a notebook and a pen. Thinking about what Dr. Greenwater mentioned, I take the first leap in trying to journal some of my thoughts and feelings.