Chapter Eighteen Lyra
Bloody hell!
Ruth leapt back from the windowsill and fluttered over to my makeup table, her small body visually shivering. Immediately, I dropped the blush brush I was holding and picked her up, cuddling her close to my chest.
“What’s wrong, wee one?” I asked, stroking a finger down the soft fur on her back.
An owl just flew at the window.
“Really?” I craned my head to look out the window.
Really. I saw my life flash before my eyes.
“I never thought about it, but I guess you still have some predators, don’t you? Do you have any defense mechanisms? What should I know so I can help you?” I stood up and walked across the room, curious about the owl.
Frankly, I was happy to have anything to take my mind off Rab.
Off his kiss, which was both the same and foreign, memories of what had been blended with what could be.
It was the type of kiss where time stopped, you forgot your own name, and all you could do was feel. I’d dated my fair share of men since Rab, always keeping things light, and I certainly enjoyed a wee make-out session and a cuddle.
But this hit different.
It always would, my heart seemed to whisper to me, and I pushed thoughts of Rab out of my mind as I peered out the window to see an owl sitting on a branch of the tree just outside my window, tilting its head at us.
“Is it magickal?” I asked Ruth. I couldn’t tell, but its eyes looked intelligent.
No. Which makes it even scarier.
“What about your sword?” I asked, turning away so the owl wouldn’t get any ideas about flying at the window.
I could hold off one owl, but more than one would be a problem. I’d have to alert all magickals within range.
“What does that do?” I asked, curious. I hadn’t heard of this.
Most magickals will help others in need. If they’re one of the good ones.
“Hmm.” I put Ruth down on the other side of my makeup table, away from the window, and picked up my phone to text Sloane. “I’m just going to let Sloane know that we’ll need to be on alert to make sure you’re protected. And to let Blue know.”
Ruth snorted.
“Och, I know he seems harmless, but don’t forget he can shoot fire. He’d protect you. I’m sure of it.”
He’s a good lad, Ruth acknowledged. She picked up a gold tube of mascara and twirled it over her head like it was a weapon before handing it over to me. You’re upset today. I can feel it.
“I don’t know if ‘upset’ is quite the word for it.” I leaned forward toward the mirror and uncapped the mascara. “I’m embarrassed. About the mess I made on the show. And other… things. I’m… sad. I’m shaken. I’m confused. I’m all the things.”
And in love.
I slammed the mascara wand back into the tube and glared at my wee fluttermouse. She’d stood up on her back two feet, and her front arms were perched on her lavender hips like she was some sort of little diva.
“I am not in love.”
If you’re all the things, wouldn’t “in love” be one of them? Ruth studied a nail she’d painted a screaming hot pink.
“So could being ‘on the hunt for a less annoying familiar.’ One who doesn’t make assumptions at six in the morning,” I said.
Is it an assumption? Ruth crossed her arms over her chest and raised her nose at me in challenge.
“Have I mentioned how annoying you are?” I asked.
I was not in love with Rabbie. I had once been in love with him, but a lot had changed, for both of us, since that time.
He was different. I was different. “It’s…
complicated, Ruth. You can’t love the idea of someone, no matter how much your heart wants you to. ”
But what if your heart is right?
“Because to find that out, I’d need to take a chance on him again. And he doesn’t want that. And I don’t want that.”
Coward. Ruth sniffed.
“Coward? He hurt me.” I jabbed my mascara wand in Ruth’s direction.
The people you love will always hurt you.
Being in love doesn’t stop you from causing one another pain.
It’s the ones who hold on, who work through those hurts, that last. They know that demanding perfection of one another is an impossible ask.
That’s real love. A little bit of grace can go a long way, Lyra.
She sounded like a teeny-tiny wizened oracle, and I narrowed my eyes at her.
“How come you’re so smart?”
I’ve lived many lives, Lyra. And I’m small, which makes me a constant observer of others, since I’m usually overlooked. If you’re someone who sticks to the corners of the room, you see everything. And I’ve seen a lot of people make idiotic choices through misplaced pride.
“This is some deep life advice before I’ve even had my coffee,” I said, leaning forward to swipe mascara across my lashes. “Much more intelligent than the sayings on the side of the tea bags.”
Live, laugh, love. Ruth twirled and pretended to curtsy.
“There it is.” I laughed and capped my mascara.
Smile and the world smiles with you.
“Do I really want the world smiling at me? Wouldn’t it be creepy if every single person I saw walking around downtown was smiling? At the same time?”
Ruth bared her teeth at me, her attempt at a smile, and I shuddered.
“No offense, but I prefer the sword.”
That’s fine. Being approachable is not a metric I aspire to have.
“I could learn something from you.” I sighed as I pulled one side of my hair back in a bejeweled hair comb and left the rest to tumble down my back.
Men approach you because you’re beautiful. You smile at them because you’re nice, but they misinterpret friendliness as an invitation. That is their problem, not yours. You can try scowling more, if you wish to dissuade them. But I prefer a more direct approach. Ruth brandished her sword.
I pursed my lips and scowled into the mirror, trying to look dangerous.
Ruth sighed. You even look cute doing that.
“I want people to see more than just a pretty face when they look at me.” I winced.
Rab’s words to his parents still stung, all these years later.
At that point in my life, his was the only opinion I’d really trusted.
In a chaotic household, where my parents fought, Sloane was sullen and removed, and Nova was still a child, I’d leaned on Rab to be my true north.
Beauty is a tool. Use it when necessary. Think of it this way—your beauty may be what gets people to stop and watch you, but your talent is what will keep people around.
“While I appreciate that, tiny oracle, that doesn’t really help when I can’t even harness my bloody magick.
” I stood and reached for my dress. Today I was going emerald green, with a deep square-cut neckline, flouncy little sleeves, and a skirt that hugged my body.
It was important to me to showcase my body, in all of its strength and softness, so that those watching would see real people represented on-screen.
Once I’d regained my confidence after the breakup with Rab, I’d made a promise to myself that I would never dress unimaginatively or hide my body just because I was plus-sized.
And I’d stuck to it. The reality was, people could see what size my body was; I wasn’t fooling anyone.
So why should I dress in boring colors if everybody could already see what I looked like?
I had been told on more than one occasion that my confidence was what had drawn men to me. Not that I was dressing for a man’s attention, but when I liked what I was wearing, I felt good about myself, and that, in turn, seemed to make me approachable.
A trait that, apparently, my wee familiar spat on.
Are you sure I can’t help during filming? Ruth asked, fluttering across the room to perch on the edge of the bed.
“You can’t.” I frowned at her. “They still have a strict no-familiars rule, otherwise, I’d have you there in a heartbeat.”
That’s too bad. The only suggestion I can give you? Ruth reached for the dragon necklace on my bedside table and then flew it over to me, the rose dangling from her arms. Use this.
“How?” I asked, taking the necklace from her and clipping it around my neck. As before, the delicate charm warmed beneath my fingers and then settled gently against my skin.
Ask it to help you channel your magick. Or to calm you. Either way, dragon scales are immensely powerful, and you’re beyond lucky to have this necklace to wear. Plus, it was given with love. Use it. At best, it might dull some of the chaotic nature of your magick right now.
“Thanks, Ruth. I’ll do that. I do feel… something inexplicable when I wear it.” I cupped the charm in my hand, and it buzzed happily over my palm. “It’s like it’s happy to be here with me.”
Of course it is. It was designed for you. And now it is home. There’s nothing in the rules about not using the tools at your disposal, right?
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Well, this is a tool. Use it.
Emboldened, I saluted my wee familiar, and she saluted me back, with her sword in hand, and I winced as the sword came dangerously close to the ends of my hair.
“Careful, there, Xena.”
Ah, the iconic princess warrior. I like that.
“Shall I make you a wee crown?”
Obviously. Ruth gave me a look as though she was annoyed I hadn’t already thought to do so.
“One crown, coming up. I’ll get Broca on it. She’ll have you dripping in sparkles by the end of the day.”
I’ll stay here to direct. I don’t want to go out with the owls, even though I do enjoy some violence to perk up my morning.
“Easy, killer. No need to get stabby before coffee.”
Isn’t that the stabbiest time for humans?
“Ah, well, yes, I suppose it is.” I laughed. She had me there.
You look beautiful, Lyra. But beyond that, you look fierce. Now all you have to do is get over yourself and tell Rab you love him.
I stopped in my doorway where I’d been about to go downstairs and turned to glare at Ruth, who was currently standing at the window, her sword raised at the owl.
“I will do no such thing. And I’d appreciate if you’d keep that sentiment to yourself.”
Stupid humans. Always in their own way.
“And please stop tormenting the owl.”
He started it.