22. MOON!
MOON!
Ryn
I’m starting to doubt if I’ll ever shake the feeling that I’m holding my breath, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Despite how amazing everything has been with Seth, and it has been amazing, I still feel so unsettled.
It’s been two weeks, and I’ve heard absolutely nothing from Darro. I didn’t really expect him to have enough consideration to keep me in the loop, but not knowing anything about his progress—or even if there has been any progress, is driving me insane.
I’m pretty sure Seth has been using sex as a distractionary technique, and I can’t say that I mind all that much.
But eventually, the quiet seeps in and infiltrates my mind, fueling my anxiety with increasingly nightmarish scenarios.
Even with Seth practically living with me at this point—he can’t be with me all the time, and the insidious doubts that ride in on the coattails of those quiet moments manage to find me, and hold me down with a near-paralyzing fear.
My version of a sleep paralysis demon, except I don’t have to be sleeping for it to find me.
My phone chimes and I jump, clutching my necklace where it’s warming against my skin in a telltale sign that my psychopomp is checking in from afar.
I rub a hand over my face and gently stroke the necklace in reassurance before pulling my phone out from between my thigh and the lounger I’ve been pretending to read in for the past hour.
Seth: I can feel you brooding from here, babe. My PO is going to think I’m constipated. Seriously, look!
I laugh at the adorable picture of his ridiculous face scrunched up in a pucker like he’s just marathon sucked on lemons, and type back a quick response.
Ryn: Just tell him the edible lemon meringue panties you licked off of me before leaving home were heavy on the lemon.
Seth: Preeeeetty sure he’d ding me on the “no soul harvesting while on probation” thing, mate or not. Soul-bonding with you technically violated my parole.
I groan inwardly and pinch the bridge of my nose. Fuck. I know he’s joking, but also, what if they actually do hold that against him? Oh gods. My anxiety flares, and my heart races as the room spins.
Just as quickly, shadows shoot out of the necklace, wrapping around me and squeezing with just enough proprioceptive input to trick my nervous system into cooperation, and I sag into their hold.
Working on my breathing, I wait until the spinning stops and my heart rate evens out before whispering, “moon.”
At the use of my safe-word, Seth’s shadows slowly release me and absorb back into my necklace. Tears fill my eyes as I pick up my phone, knowing he’ll have messaged me again.
Seth: Fuck, I’m sorry, love. I shouldn’t have joked about it. Seriously, Hellas can be a prick, but he’s not a heartless prick. Mates are super fucking rare for us. There’s zero chance I’ll get reprimanded in any real way because I was stupidly fucking lucky enough to soul-bond with you.
My stomach flutters, but for the first time all day, not with nerves.
Most of my life has felt like either punishment or retribution.
With Seth, for the first time, life feels like maybe I can just be ‘Ryn’, without having to let where I come from or what I am influence my life more than my own desires as a person.
I like to give off unapologetic vibes, but the truth is, before Seth, my entire existence felt like a forced apology.
I was ashamed of so many things—for being born Unseelie, and a necromancer.
For disappointing my family, despite having no genuine affection for them.
For taking up space in the places where ‘good’ paranormals exist. Hell, even for actually following my ambitions with the Lazarus project, because a part of me felt like maybe people thought it was all just performative.
I’ve certainly felt like an imposter every step of the way, feigning confidence when I had no clue if all of my theories would have merit in real-life application.
Wouldn’t that have made the naysayers right, at least partially?
Ugh! I hate getting stuck in my own head.
Damn that Unseelie twat for ‘benching’ me.
It’s his fault. I can’t settle my mind when I have no goal to work toward, no scope of the situation, or even a rough timeline for when it might be over.
No wonder my anxiety has amped up—I’m a doer stuck doing nothing.
The only constant right now is Seth. I don’t know what I’d do without the steadfastness and stability of our bond serving as the lynchpin for my sanity.
Ryn: I love you, Seth. Thank you. I’m okay, just restless.
Gods, it feels good to say that and mean it. Because for the first time in possibly my entire life, I am one-hundred percent unapologetic about something—choosing Seth.
I smile as my phone dings with a text, stroking my necklace as I glance down to see what silly response he’s decided to send back this time. Except the message flashing across my notifications isn’t from Seth. And all of those warm, fuzzy feelings? They shrivel up and die.
Saskia: You took something from me, sister. Something of value, twice now. Unfortunately, you don’t have anything of value to steal in return, so your little friends will have to suffice. Come to your lab alone, or they die, and I’ll make damn sure you can’t raise them.
I can feel the blood drain from my face as I reread the message and stare at the picture of Sam and Eilidh strapped down to procedure tables in the lab.
FUCK! Panic threatens to choke me, but I carefully suck in a breath and work to control my breathing. Double-checking the time, I realize I only have maybe an hour before Seth will be back from his weekly check-in.
With trembling fingers, I unclasp my necklace and carefully store it in my pocket.
I should leave it behind, but I can’t bring myself to be quite that stupid.
Showing up alone is stupid enough, and if it wasn’t for Seth’s probation, I would probably have tried to sneak him with me—but I refuse to risk his freedom for my safety.
There’s got to be another way. There has to.
Think, Ryn. When an idea finally comes to me, I groan and fist my hands into my hair, pulling slightly, letting the dull ache mollify me. I don’t have time to be choosy.
My hands shake as I bite my lip and press call to a number I never thought I would voluntarily dial.
My pocket is pulsing with heat, and I slide my hand inside to lightly stroke my necklace, hoping to reassure Seth on the other side. I know by now my racing pulse and spiking anxiety must have alerted him that something isn’t right, but I can’t have him interfering right now.
I can feel sweat beading on my brow, but it’s too late to change my plan.
Besides, I’m fairly confident this is the best course of action.
Mostly. Swallowing down my nerves and glancing anxiously toward the corridor that leads to my lab, I check my phone one last time.
I scroll past the numerous texts from Seth and wince.
Seth: Is everything okay?
Seth: Ryn, I swear to gods I’m not trying to be controlling, but you’re making me really nervous. The vibes you’re giving off mixed with the fact that you just took off the necklace are low-key freaking me out.
Seth: Baby, please…
Seth: Something is wrong. I can feel it. If you don’t answer me in the next five minutes, I’m coming to you.
Ryn: No, Seth. I need you to listen to me, okay?
Seth: …
Ryn: When I take the necklace out of my pocket, put up a shield.
Seth: You’re joking, right?
Seth: Right?!
Ryn: Just trust me?
I don’t have time to wait for his reply because a door opens around the corner from me, down the corridor that houses my lab. And then a petulant sigh filters out.
“It’s rude to keep people waiting, you know.
” Saskia’s bored voice echoes through the space, and I square my shoulders as I push off the wall I’d been leaning against. Rounding the corner, I keep my eyes locked on my sister, my nerves only slightly lessened upon seeing her standing alone near the lab door.
At least she’s also alone, and it’s not a full-on ambush—so far.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to be enthusiastic about walking into a blackmail situation with hostages?
Silly me, what was I thinking?” My voice comes out lower than I intend, but I still manage to sound confident and maybe even a little cocky.
That’s pretty much the standard for Unseelie interaction.
Saskia laughs without humor and walks silently through the open lab doors behind her.
I cautiously follow her lead, subtly casting my eyes around for any sign of the nasty little hobgoblins Seth said she has working for her.
Alone, they wouldn’t be worth worrying over, but even low-level threats are dangerous when you’re outnumbered.
I let my eyes linger on where Sam and Eilidh lie strapped to procedure tables for a moment, checking they’re otherwise alright, before I resume eye contact with a smug-looking Saskia.
Arching my brow, I shrug, “I’m here. What do you want?”
She tsks, the picture of carefully concealed rage—except for the whiteness around her knuckles and sparks flying in her eyes.
“It’s a bit late for that question, don’t you think, sister?” She chuckles darkly and walks toward me, her steps unhurried in a way that makes me uneasy. “I knew you were a traitor. I didn’t realize you were an opportunistic whore.”
“That’s rich, coming from the girl screwing the Unseelie prince.”
“Not anymore.” She stops right in front of me, and I have to fight the urge to retreat a step. “Thanks to you.”
That throws me off, and my brow furrows with genuine confusion. “Saskia, I tried to warn you that Darro wanted the soul stone project to stop. You had to know—”