Chapter 16
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule sixteen: Trust your doctor (even if he’s psychotic).
So maybe telling my insane ex to kidnap my modern histories professor was the dick move of the century. But it bought me a little more time.
Time I’m desperate to use.
A week.
I have a week until the ceremony.
On edge, I mentally mutter my daily affirmation.
I am so unbelievably fucked.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t soothe my nerves.
Leon is pressed up against me as we sit together on a small, upholstered couch. He’s barely said a word all morning.
Considering the man loves nothing more than to put me on mute and mansplain our future, I’m pretty sure he’s annoyed. I’m not sure if that’s because today is our first couples therapy session, or because he’s missing Council meetings.
I’m not in much better spirits. The gray haze that settled over me has only intensified. Nothing dramatically traumatizing has happened since yesterday.
I think it’s been subtly building for days. Every interaction where I’ve been forced to submit and play nice with Leon has slowly pushed me under.
Maybe that’s been Leon’s plan all along. Why bother using a leash to force me into submission when he can carve me into something that fits him instead? A numbing cold spreads through me at the thought, and I try to stop dissociating.
I refuse to stop trying. Being broken doesn’t mean I’m useless. I’ve had years of experience to attest to that.
Of course, being forced back to Leon’s side is certainly making it difficult to try much of anything.
I’ve been internally groaning since he pulled me away from Nymara.
If I can just go back to being under her watch, then maybe I’ll be able to explore more of the castle.
But no matter how many times I’ve tried to suggest it, Leon has refused to back off.
I need help, and that’s precisely what I’m hoping to get today.
My palms are sweating, and I hide them in the folds of my dress.
Ironically, I’m not at all concerned about what we’ll discuss in therapy.
That could be because we won’t even get to therapy if Dr. Parnard reveals that he knows me.
Or it’s because of the reason I’m latching onto: I’ve grown as a person.
I mean, sure, I’ve grown less stable, but grown, nonetheless.
The doorknob turns, shaking me from my thoughts. A moment later, an insolent Dr. Parnard is shoved inside by a guard. His hair is disheveled, and he’s wearing one of his many tweed blazers with elbow patches.
“I’m telling you, I’m not a therapist!” He yells at the door, even as it’s slammed in his face.
I don’t waste a second. Springing up from my seat, I dash for him and grab his hand for a vigorous handshake. I’m in his face before he’s even fully turned. “Dr. Parnard! I’m so pleased we could arrange for you to visit!”
His eyes widen in recognition, and I press forward, “I’ve been pulled into this world and am having so many difficulties,” I emphasize the word, “I knew only a professional couples therapist, such as yourself, would be able to help me navigate this situation.”
He frowns, and I give him my best ‘please play along’ look.
When he still doesn’t say anything, I realize I’m not above begging. “Please say you’ll help. I’m getting married in a week, and I find myself struggling to come to terms with what is being asked of me. I’m desperate for your particular brand of counsel.”
Dr. Parnard clears his throat. He’s still frowning when he adjusts his tie, but he gives me a sharp nod. “Of course.”
“Vivian, sit back down. I appreciate your excitement, but you mustn’t bother standing for commoners,” Leon orders.
I grit my teeth but plaster on a demure smile as I pad back over to my spot beside him.
Leon tracks my movement and seems satisfied when I don’t show any sign of pushback. He turns back to Dr. Parnard. “Now, would you care to tell me what you meant about not being a therapist?” Suspicion oozes from his tone.
Dr. Parnard slowly makes his way over to the chair in front of us. He takes in my panic, and his own expression immediately becomes the picture of calm, haughty professionalism.
“Gladly. While these sessions aren’t about me, I don’t mind being a bit candid.” He crosses one leg over the other, appearing completely at ease. “I retired from active counselling a few years ago, when I took on a position as a professor at a college.”
“What college?” Leon asks, tension lining his face.
I jump in. “He teaches at my college, that’s how I heard of him. The students talk about him all the time.”
I’m not even lying. We do talk a lot about Dr. Parnard. Mostly, we complain about what a psychopath he is for his teaching hours – but that’s probably irrelevant.
Leon runs his tongue over his teeth and finally nods. “Very well. You may counsel us. Do begin.”
Dr. Parnard sits back with one leg still crossed at the knee. “I’d like to start by gaining a bit of context. How, exactly, do you two know each other?”
“She’s the reincarnation of the love of my life, and now she’s returned to take her place as my destined mate,” Leon answers, already sounding impatient.
At the lost expression on Dr. Parnard’s face, I give him a few more details.
I make sure to emphasize how Leon abandoned me to die in Atlantis, and the magical Keeper bond that was controlling my free will.
By the time I finish telling him about being blackmailed to return here and the magical leash they’re using, his face has paled considerably.
Dr. Parnard opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, pausing for a moment before trying to speak again.
He’s speechless.
I wish Conner, Isaac, and Sarah could see this. They’ll never believe me if I get a chance to tell them.
“And what exactly are your goals for therapy?” Dr. Parnard clarifies.
Leon gives an annoyed sigh. “She’s struggling to come to terms with our destiny. We are to be married in seven days, and she needs to accept her fate.”
“Seven–” Dr. Parnard starts, incredulous.
“I’ve been holding a lot of anger against Leon, and I haven’t been able to take the time to properly process it all.
I’ve asked Leon not to be intimate with me until I’ve had a chance to do so.
That way, we can rebuild our relationship on a more solid foundation,” I note, hoping Dr. Parnard will read between the lines to see exactly how fucked up this situation is.
He gets a shade paler.
Nailed it.
Leon gives me a sharp look. “I’ve given you plenty of time, Vivian.
There really isn’t anything left to process.
I’ve told you I won’t leave you again, I’ve made time for you, and I’ve given you space.
I’ve given you everything. You need to stop dragging up the past and start showing me some gratitude. ”
My eyes widen with concern, even though I’m seething inside. “Leon, this is couples therapy. You should be addressing Dr. Parnard. That’s how it works,” I whisper, even though the good doctor can hear every word.
His hands fist over his knees, and I recognize the familiar twitch in his left eye.
“You’re quite right, Vivian, was it? Now, if I understand you both correctly, Leon, you’re upset that Vivian isn’t prepared to marry you in a few days, and Vivian, you are having difficulty forgiving Leon for betraying you?
Have I captured the general idea?” Dr. Parnard jumps in, sounding fascinated.
“I didn’t betray–” Leon starts.
“This is a safe space. I will not tolerate defensive behavior in my sessions,” Dr. Parnard interrupts in the same tone he uses to admonish students.
I try not to outwardly cheer at the way Leon’s face reddens.
“Now, first and foremost, I believe you should return Vivian to her home, and, if she feels so inclined, you may court her there, at her convenience. She should feel comfortable in this relationship.”
Leon’s knuckles are turning white from how hard he’s fisting them. “Impossible. This marriage has far-reaching consequences, beyond the scope that either of you can even begin to understand. It is happening, whether she feels ready or not,” he snaps. “Now, tell us something useful.”
Dr. Parnard leans forward, his fingers steepled together. “Interesting, and how do you feel about marrying Vivian?”
“I’m ecstatic. She is my destined mate. I’ve waited for her for centuries. This is supposed to be some of the happiest days of our lives. And yet she is being difficult.” He sounds anything but happy, and I don’t miss the blatant accusation.
“That must be very frustrating,” Dr. Parnard notes in understanding.
“Exceedingly,” Leon all but growls.
“And Vivian, how do you feel about Leon?” Dr. Parnard asks.
“Unsafe,” I answer emphatically. I know the word will trigger Leon’s temper, but I need to show how volatile this man is, so Dr. Parnard can clue in that I need space, ASAP.
“You’re being dramatic,” Leon snaps, rolling his eyes.
“He literally snapped my neck and murdered me, like, less than two weeks ago,” I say to Dr. Parnard, remembering that little detail.
“It wasn’t even permanent!” Leon roars.
“You didn’t ask permission first,” I mutter.
“I don’t need permission! You are mine! Every part of you belongs to me!” Leon is growing exceedingly agitated, but keeps his hands to himself.
“This is a good example of what we’ve been struggling with,” I explain to my professor with a sigh.
“This is highly concerning indeed,” Dr. Parnard notes. He clears his throat, as if collecting his thoughts before continuing, “It seems there are vast issues in your communication, particularly with regards to feelings.”
I nod, as if I’m hanging on to his every word.
“Now, Vivian, since you seem to be the one struggling to accept the relationship, what do you believe will help you accept your impending marriage?” Dr. Parnard’s shrewd gaze meets mine.