Chapter 8 Winter
~Winter~
Everything was going to be okay.
I was okay.
Last night had just been an anomaly. I pulled at my gray hoodie, adjusting the hood that didn’t need adjusting.
Yeah, last night had just been an aftershock from the kidnapping and Nihilumbra being used to restrain me. The tremoring had ceased. That unbearable emptiness and awful void-like sensation had abated. As soon as I’d fed from Zayn, all of that nastiness had faded away.
It had made me… fine again.
Everything within me was copacetic.
I was stable.
Absolutely solid.
Well, aside from some mildly aggravating intrusive memories of the many things Ruxnoth had conveyed to me yesterday.
“You’ll experience comfort, adoration, acceptance, and deep belonging. Eternally, Winter. There is a world that wants you, and that is mine.”
I blinked it away, like I’d been doing for the last couple of hours.
After feeding from Zayn, I’d dosed off briefly, then awoken to find him in a deep sleep.
In one of his tangled states, something that occurred when he was distressed.
He’d had his legs on the sofa, but his head on the floor, his body basically twisted up.
So I’d gathered him to me, careful not to wake him.
I’d wrapped the spell around me that I’d cast over the room to insulate any sound, scent, magic, blood, from anyone beyond the two of us, then I’d put him back to bed in the guestroom, nestling him between Vax and Evira.
They hadn’t been able to register the movement or my presence due to my spell being in effect.
I’d then even retrieved Nuvri, who Evira had so sweetly put in my bed as a clear act of comfort, and tucked him in beside her, so when the three of them woke up, it would signify that I was well.
I assumed they’d dart straight to my bedroom then panic when they didn’t find me in there otherwise.
I’d been too wired to go back to sleep. And not in a good way.
Mostly because of the intrusive memories and some flashes of Ruxnoth warming me.
I’d spent the rest of the night walking the house enveloped in my spell, thinking and strategizing, preparing myself for the mountain of questions and difficult decisions that would descend on me once everyone woke.
That time was fast approaching.
Day had broken.
The house would be coming to life any moment, everyone waking up.
I knew Father had his class to teach at Wraeven Academy today, and he set his alarm for six a.m. on those days to arrive at seven-thirty to prepare in advance for the class.
Pops had a day off from Vyrn Hollow Shifter Habitat.
Mom wasn’t in the Dark Fae Realm today, instead due to head to Crossborn for her other role there, and that was something that didn’t need to happen until early afternoon.
Dad would be in later at Requital too, because whenever Pops had a day off, they all pushed their schedules back so they could enjoy time together.
A rarity except in the evenings given their busy schedules, so they carved out time this way, so they could always connect without going too long without doing so.
Although, because of what had happened with the kidnapping, now that time was going to be compromised and fucking ruined.
Because of me. My issues.
Once again.
I ground my teeth as I put the oatmeal box I’d grabbed from one of the light-gray stone cupboards onto the white marble kitchen island. I pulled out a saucepan from one of the drawers beneath, then strode over to the sleek purple metallic stove.
I instinctively reached for the knob to turn on one of the burners, only to pull up short when I saw none of them were there, replaced by their alternate form of magical touchpads.
Sometimes when Dad or Father cooked and did so the quicker, magical way, instead of the mundane way, they forgot to switch it back.
It was something that Pops got agitated with because he didn’t have the means to fix it.
I grunted and put the saucepan down on the kitchen island, because I didn’t want to reset the knobs or use magic right now. It was why I’d intended to cook my oatmeal the mundane way in the first place. Having to fix this defeated the purpose of that.
“Hungry, baby boy?”
My head snapped up at the sound of Mom’s voice. I smiled as I saw her standing there in the doorway.
Her bright amethyst eyes just like mine popped in her favorite purple jeans paired with a black wrap top that spoke to her edgy side, that bold and unapologetic powerful personality.
Her kickass side as Zayn had referred to it when he’d stayed here and been rather taken with her.
His own mom, Klyra, was the complete opposite, being reserved and restrained.
“Morning, Mom,” I greeted, holding out my hand to let her know it was okay, that I didn’t need her to keep her distance over by the door, like I could see her straining to do.
She was across the room in the next moment and throwing her arms around me.
“I’m okay,” I breathed into her wavy ombre hair. “Perfectly fine. I’m so sorry it all created such a scare.”
She eased back, holding onto my forearms as she took me in, so much love and concern pouring forth. The first part I always adored about her, about my whole family. But the latter… it had caused a great deal of grief and pain.
And not just for me.
Ruxnoth’s words slammed into me, making me wince as the brutality of them dug far too deep.
“You remaining on this plane is not only unsustainable because of public sentiment toward what you are, but it will bring about the downfall of Sylas, the rest of your family by extension, and even those three you have made the worrying decision to attach yourself to.”
I blinked back to the immediate moment.
“Winter?” Mom spoke, stroking my cheek comfortingly.
I stepped back and forced a smile. “Like I said, I’m well. I just regret the terror and upset the situation caused all of you.”
“No. Don’t. That doesn’t matter. What happened to you does, that you’re safe and well now does. Don’t take that on, no apologies for something you had no control over. There’s no shame to be had. None of this is your fault. Absolutely none of it. Do you understand me, baby boy?”
“Yeah,” I said, managing to sound convincing.
That may have been true beforehand. It hadn’t been my fault. Them having to go to extreme and often dangerous and exhausting lengths to protect me hadn’t been on me.
But after what Ruxnoth had told me, and him laying out an alternative, there finally being a way for me not to be a burden to my family, now it was actually on me.
Voicing that, though, wouldn’t go over well.
They would likely put it down to me being indoctrinated by Ruxnoth. Maybe even brainwashed.
Especially when they had to know by now from Ketheron that Ruxnoth had infected me at one point.
Keth would have had to tell them in order to explain me being taken, who Ruxnoth was, all of that.
Which also meant they had to know about my necromantic power glitching—something I’d kept from them. Worst of all, kept from Dad.
I really wasn’t relishing having that conversation with him.
Mom stared at me for a moment, and I tried not to visibly tense, worrying that she wasn’t buying my easy acceptance of what she’d said.
But then relief coursed through me as her purple magic sparked and she conjured a bowl of oatmeal for me on the kitchen island.
“There you go,” she said gently. She walked to it and called her shadows forth, and I smiled as she used them like she used to in order to get the lumpiness out of the oatmeal and make it the smooth, almost soup-like way that I preferred it.
“Thank you, Mom.”
“Of course. Eat up.”
I obliged and took a seat on one of the stools, picking up the ornate spoon she’d pulled with her magic from the kitchen drawer, the silver ones with the black roses swirling around the handles. Well, faux silver. We couldn’t have actual silver in the house because Pops was part wolf.
As I started eating, finding myself more hungry than I’d realized, and basically shoveling it into my mouth, spoonful after spoonful, I watched her walk to the oven and sweep her magic over it, calling forth the knobs.
“Your dad has gotten a lot better with it. He was just distracted last night when he made dinner with Cassius.”
I smiled and continued eating.
She leaned against the oven instead of coming over to me like she normally would have. She was very touchy-feely with me, just like Pops was, so this was odd. It seemed like she was forcing herself to give me space now that she’d been able to get her hug in earlier.
They must have thought I’d been subjected to some physical abuse from Ruxnoth.
I mean, yeah, he had touched me.
But it hadn’t been… wrong.
In fact, it had actually helped me.
He had helped me.
It had been kind and… wanted. Relished, even. Not in a harmful way nor a sexual way. And I could tell that wasn’t how he’d intended it. It hadn’t been disturbing or despicable like that.
I smiled out at Mom. “Fine, remember?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m seeing.”
Seeing, but not quite believing?
“Thank you for your shadows. They helped.”
“Good, baby boy.” Her lips quirked. “And Maximus? You know Ketheron will want to know. And… Nuvri is the name of Evira’s plush polar bear cub, right?”
I chuckled. “That’s right. They both did an incredible job. Comfort and cuteness overload without a doubt.”
“High praise, tiny god!” Ketheron’s voice sounded suddenly, as he burst into the kitchen.
He knew what it was like to have been feared because of what he was, too.
But that had faded over time. The fact he no longer always wore those thick sweats anymore, and was clad in navy jeans and a white tee now, which had become his usual sort of wear, him no longer so self-conscious about the shimmering golden cracks all over his skin that signified his Polygenus Entity makeup was a definitive sign of that.