63. Zair
Zair
Sisterly Love and Other Forms of Psychological Warfare
It was not just a few bruises.
Both bones in her left forearm were completely broken. Snapped. Her shoulder yanked from the socket. The bruises on her face bled together. I couldn’t even tell how many times she’d been hit.
And her abdomen was somehow, impossibly worse. One broken rib. Three cracked. Internal bleeding from the force and sheer number of blows.
How in gods’ name did she haul Benson like that?
She gave me her magic to heal him. Her strength.
All while she had one foot in the grave.
The nurse tears into me for a solid ten minutes for not healing her. Benson jumps in, says he was with her the whole time and didn’t even realize how bad it was. But none of it touches the guilt gnawing at me. Some mate I am. I didn’t even check her.
I’m ready to scream at her the second she wakes up. But Benson beats me to it.
“Thea!” he nearly shouts. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me your arm was broken?”
Thea glances down at her now-healed arm and gives him a small, sheepish smile.
“If you say ‘what broken arm,’ I swear I’ll kill you myself!” he roars. Guess he’s feeling better. He buries her in a hug.
“That would kinda defeat the purpose of healing me,” she jokes, and hugs him back. “I’m glad you’re better.”
“You saved my life, I don’t kill you. We’re even,” Benson reasons. Thea’s laugh is light and my heart flutters. They’re okay. And suddenly I don’t feel like I’m suffocating anymore. Benson sinks onto his cot. Yelling at her must have worn him out.
Thea stands and stretches. I let myself admire her.
The ominous clicking of heels echoes down the tiled hallway.
Thea moves fast, curling beside Benson on the bed. His arms wrap around her as she rests her head on his shoulder.
The door swings open. Anita strides in, her expression a carefully crafted mask of concern. But it doesn’t fool me. Not with the way her eyes gleam, like she’s trying too hard to smother her satisfaction.
“Oh my god, Thea! Are you okay?” she exclaims, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. It grates on me. The way she wields concern like a weapon, every word sharpened to cut just right.
Thea doesn’t rise to it.
“I’m fine, Anita,” she replies flatly, her attention still focused on Benson.
Her hand drifts over his stomach. I know it’s just for show, but it still twists something inside me.
Anita falters for a heartbeat, her smile twitching.
“The school called my mom about the whole kidnapping situation,” she says, her eyes cutting toward Benson with thinly veiled disdain. “We were really concerned, you know? Told her how dangerous it was. Goblins. You have no business being involved in something like that.”
Thea barely seems to register her. Her hand runs through Benson’s green hair, casual and slow, like Anita’s not even worth looking at. Then she leans in and whispers something in his ear.
Benson grins and makes a playful biting motion. Thea giggles.
It’s honestly nauseating. But Anita is seething.
“Thea!” she whines. “Why would you get entangled with goblins? I hear you have all these favors. Does that mean you slept with all of them?”
“Are you serious right now?” Benson finally acknowledges her. “Do you know absolutely nothing about goblin culture?”
“The only thing I need to know is that you’re trouble,” Anita snaps.
“You’re a smuggler, and you dragged her into your mess,” she hisses, turning to Thea.
“You don’t get it, do you? He’s never going to care about you the way I do.
A goblin can’t love you the way I could.
I’m your family. Not him. I’ve always been here for you.
I understand you. Why would you choose him over me? Don’t you love me?”
She looks so heartbroken I almost believe her.
“I don’t need you to save me from him, Anita,” Thea tells her dispassionately. “These goblins didn’t treat me any worse than witches have.”
Anita’s lips press into a thin line.
“You weren’t taken by witches!” she snaps, her voice rising. “You were taken by ugly chainborns who held you captive. Thank god your magic is weak, or you’d be in worse shape from that cuff Varik put on you.”
Thea’s head tilts slightly, her eyes narrowing.
“Varik told us he was hired by a witch to try and scare me straight,” Thea says, her eyes watching Anita like a hawk. “But we haven’t told anyone his name.”
Like a mouse sensing the trap spring, Anita freezes; cornered, exposed. Her usual self-assured demeanor shatters as Ollin stands and begins to stalk toward her.
“I—I—Mom must have told me,” Anita stammers, her voice rising an octave, cracking under the weight of scrutiny. “The cops must have told her.”
Thea’s calm, unyielding gaze remains locked on Anita. “We didn’t tell Ollin yet,” Thea says, before turning to him. “Did we tell you the goblin’s name?”
Ollin steps closer, each movement deliberate, his authority filling the room.
“No, you didn’t,” he replies evenly. “How do you know his name, young lady?”
“I—I don’t know. I—” Her words stutter out, eyes darting around the room, looking for any escape. She decides to run for it, spinning on her heel and tearing from the room.
Ollin walks over and helps Thea to her feet.
“Was that your assumption?”
“She’s a little predictable,” Thea jokes. “Goblin kidnapping wasn’t on the bingo card, but I’ll allow it.”
Ollin snorts despite himself. “She has a file of complaints at the office but her mother always intervenes. Do you think…”
“Not even a chance,” Thea replies smoothly. “It was probably Vivien’s idea.”
What’ve I mated into? Complicated family dynamics are one thing, but this? Who hires someone to kidnap their own sister because they think she’s dating a goblin? What’ll they do when they find out that Thea has mated a damn banshee!
The nurse steps forward, her soft footsteps grounding the moment. She examines Thea and Benson.
“Young lady, you don’t seem to be suffering any ill effects from the cuffs. Benson said they had them on you the same amount of time?”
Thea hesitates, like she’s scrambling for a lie that will work.
“I’m not a very powerful witch. The cuff didn’t bother me too much.” That’s what she chooses? The nurse seems to accept her explanation without question, offering a slight nod.
“Well, be thankful for that. You two just need to rest, and you should be fine in a day or two.”
“Let’s stay together tonight,” I suggest. I don’t think I can handle her out of my sight right now.
“I already arranged a guest house for you guys,” Ollin tells us.
I can see that whatever instinct he has to protect her isn’t about to let her out of his sight either.
I should be jealous. But, the more eyes on her, the better.
Mavrik appears from nowhere, emerging with an unsettling ease.
He must have melted into the shadows when Anita showed up.
“Okay. But can we stop by my dorm to grab a change of clothes?” Thea asks.
“Just borrow something of ours,” I say quickly. “I want to check your room out in the daylight before you do, make sure it’s safe.”
Ollin nods in agreement.
“That’s a good call. We’ll go through her room together in the morning.”
Ollin leads us across the campus to a small guest house nestled among the trees. It’s cozy, with a single queen-sized bed and a modest living area. He steps inside, scanning the space with a trained eye before turning back to us.
“I’m going to go grab you some food. When my mom heard what happened, she cooked,” he says, looking a little embarrassed. “My sister is going to bring it.”
“Thank you, Ollin, that’s very kind, tell your mother thank you as well,” Thea tells him earnestly. He colors slightly and quickly leaves.
Benson and I claim the couch as Mavrik sinks into the recliner. Within minutes, his breathing evens out, and I wonder if he slept at all last night.
The minutes stretch on as Thea methodically checks every corner of the cabin.
“She did that in the storage room too. Does she do it in every new place?” Benson asks me.
“She didn’t in my dorm.”
“Maybe you’re not as interesting as an empty cell,” he tells me, and I hit his shoulder.”Hey! I’m injured.”
That reminds me.
“How the hell did she hide a fucking broken arm from you?” I whisper-yell, and he leans in so Thea won’t hear.
“One of the goblins said she didn’t even react. No matter how many times he hit her, she kept getting up and smiling at him.” I don’t know if it’s better or worse that she didn’t show pain.
I think back to her first day in combat; she did the same thing. Fuck.
“Did the cuffs affect her?” I ask, trying to make some sense of everything.
“Yes, but…” he trails off when she passes close. “She said she’d worn them before, and you eventually get used to the pain.”
I turn to watch her; I know I don’t know everything, but I thought we were close enough for her to open up about some of this. Then again, I’ve kept a lot of secrets too. Maybe I have to start opening up, to show her I trust her.
“How long do you think it’ll take before she notices?”
I look at him, confused.
“Notices what?”
He smiles playfully.
“Notices you’re in love with her.”
I blink, caught off guard, before I scoff, my cheeks burning. “Shut up.”
“Hey, I’m just saying.” Benson grins wider. “You’re not exactly being subtle.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but before I can reply, the sound of the door opening catches my attention. Dylan walks in, the bag of clothes rustling in his hand.
“I grabbed you some clothes,” he announces. Thea hurries over and grabs the bag.
“Thanks, Dylan.” She heads to the bathroom without further comment, the bag held tightly in her hands.
Benson leans toward me as soon as she disappears behind the door, his voice low.
“Bet you five bucks she comes out looking like a feed sack.”
“You’re awful.” I shake my head.
“What can I say? I’ve got a gift. So charming, I’m worth kidnapping over it.”
I snort, rolling my eyes as Dylan settles into the chair opposite me.
“I think that there’s a lot wrong in that family,” I tell them. They both nod their heads in agreement. Benson seems to be debating something before he finally speaks.
“Zair, I don’t know if she’s the right girl for you. Are you sure about her?”
“Yes.” I bristle at the implication.
“What if she’s already attached to someone else?” I feel the heat rise in my chest.
“I’m giving her space, but I’ll wait. This isn’t temporary,” I say firmly.
Benson seems like he wants to argue more, but before he can, the bathroom door creaks open. Thea steps out, wearing my soccer jersey. The fabric hangs loosely on her, the number three emblazoned on her chest. It’s too big for her, the hem brushing her thighs. She isn’t wearing any pants.
For fuck’s sake.
“Guess I owe you five bucks,” Benson tells me. I can’t look away.
“You look way sexier in that than Zair ever has,” Dylan chimes in.
Thea rolls her eyes.
“Thanks, I think.”
She sinks down on the floor. I look around the room, trying to find something to keep us entertained and notice a pile of games.
“Dylan, grab a board game,” I tell him. “Let’s do something while we wait for the food.”
Dylan spends a few minutes rummaging through the pile and offering games.
“Scrabble,” Thea calls out.
Benson raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“I like it,” I reply with a shrug. “It’s a classic.”
Benson looks between Thea and me, a challenge lighting up in his eyes.
“So, are we playing to win or just for fun?”
“I’m in it to win it,” I reply immediately, sinking down next to Thea. “You?”
“Same,” Thea says, her smile a little too sharp. “You better be ready.”
Benson laughs, then leans in to whisper in my ear. “She’s going to destroy us, isn’t she?”
“A hundred percent,” I tell him. “All together, I doubt we can beat her.”
As we start playing, the game takes on a competitive edge.
We all banter back and forth. My ‘APPLE’, Benson’s ‘HORSE’, and then Dylan’s ‘PIE’ are completely obliterated by Thea when she changes Benson’s word to ‘HORSEPOWER’ while landing a double word!
We’re so screwed. She’s way ahead, more than double anyone else’s points, when she suddenly gets a wicked smile on her face.
“Zair, remember when you told me to remind you never to play Scrabble with me?” she asks, her tone as innocent as ever. Then she places ‘VEXING’ on the board and watches me, waiting for my reaction.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I laugh as I realize why she’s so triumphant. “Did you seriously remember that in case we ever played Scrabble?”
“Yup,” she says, still grinning.
The game continues in the same rhythm until Ollin returns with a woman, who he introduces as his sister Cat, and a whole lot of food.
Thea attempts to wake up Mavrik but he waves her off. She sits down and falls into conversation with Cat.
“I’m sorry, I have to ask,” Thea says. “I always thought Ollin was a cat shifter, are you a cat shifter named Cat?” Thea grimaces but Cat just laughs.
“My real name is Ehecatl. Since most Americans can’t say it, someone shortened it to Cat and it stuck. But yes, we’re cat shifters,” she explains.
“That’s a cool name. What does it mean?” Thea asks her with enthusiasm. I don’t think there’s anything Thea loves more than learning, except maybe a perfectly sharpened pencil to write it down.
We all gorge ourselves on some of the best mole? I have ever eaten and talk about everything: except what happened. When the sun sets Ollin and Cat say goodbye and we all look around, realizing there aren’t nearly enough sleeping places.
One bed, one couch, and four people.
“I call the couch!” Dylan declares, his huge werewolf body taking over the couch as he shoves me off. His head lands with a thud in Thea’s lap, and I watch as she sighs in resignation.
“You’re a damn wolf!” Thea argues, pushing against his chest. “Shift and sleep on the floor.”
“Never,” he yawns.
Thea sighs, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. As she does, her shirt rides up, exposing more of her thighs. I should avert my eyes, but I don’t. My heart hammering in my chest.
“I’m fine sharing the bed. I slept with B the last two nights anyway, and since Zair’s had access to my magic, I don’t think we could be more intimate.”
She’s right. Giving me access to her magic is the most intimate act for witches. But still not enough. I’m greedy, I want it all.
“That works,” Benson says, claiming one side as Thea slides into the middle.
I take a breath, trying to steady myself.
I’ve already changed into sweatpants, so I pull off my shirt and slide under the covers.
I want so badly to reach out and touch her, to pull her closer.
But I hold back, nails digging into my palms, the pull of my mate bond gnawing at me.
I can’t force this on her. If I did, she’d throw it in my face, and I’m not ready for that.
“Goodnight, boys,” Thea says sleepily, her voice soft and content.
“Goodnight,” we all reply and are asleep within minutes.