Chapter 15
Anja
My whole body tenses at the sound of footsteps, only to relax when I realise I recognise them.
Have I spent so much time around Cethin that I'm able to differentiate the sound of his shoes, or is it something to do with the mate bond that means I know he's there?
I've been researching so I can assure him that there's nothing to worry about the next time he's concerned that we're going too far.
But nothing I've found has told me what I'm able to do with the bond, it's all focused on how important it is to those who feel it.
The flap of wings announces Thistle's appearance, and she comes to sit on the back of the bench beside me.
"I thought you were supposed to be my familiar?" I ask her.
"I think she was being," Cethin responds.
"How so?"
"I think she was worried and wanted to bring me to you."
"Oh." I turn to the raven and smile, though I don't know if she can understand the gesture. "Thanks."
Thistle flaps her wings, which I have to assume means she's heard me.
"Can I sit?" Cethin asks.
"Of course." I don't even have to think about my answer. "I'm sorry for running away, I wasn't really thinking things through."
"That's okay. I'm just lucky Thistle decided to show me the way or I could have spent hours searching the grounds for you."
"I'm surprised you didn't just follow me," I respond as I pick at the hem of my shirt.
"I was getting this for you." He pulls the book about banshees from his bag and hands it to me.
"Are you supposed to have this?"
"Yes, I checked it out properly, I didn't steal it, if that's what you're insinuating." He sits on the bench and leans back.
"I was going to go with borrow without permission."
He snorts. "Well, I borrowed with permission. It's a library after all."
I turn the book over in my hands, trying to process exactly what I'm thinking. "Thank you. I appreciate it."
"I'm here for you, Anja. For whatever you need."
I can think of a dozen flirty things to say to that, but I know this isn't really the time or the place for them. Instead, I let out a sigh. "I'm a banshee."
"You might not be, it's just a theory."
I snort. "It's not a theory." I flip to the page with the drawing of the woman from my dreams. "She looks like me."
He shuffles closer and puts an arm around me.
Thistle hops over to the other side, but doesn't seem to engage with us much. It's nice to have her here though, it's support I never realised I wanted or needed.
"It could be a coincidence that she looks like you." He doesn't believe the words, I can hear it in his voice.
"It isn't. You know when you just feel things?"
"Like you being my mate?"
I nod. "Yeah, like that. I guess I just feel like this is the truth. This woman has been in all of my dreams, and there has to be a reason for that."
"Does it say much about who visits the dreams of banshees?" he asks.
"How should I know? You're the one that spent time with the book, not me," I point out, hoping he has so I can skip to the parts of the book I need.
"I didn't have time to read all of it," he responds. "But I did see a section about awakening banshee powers."
I flip to the front and scan the table of contents for the right page. I find it and scan the neatly printed text within. "When a bean sídhe comes of age, they are often visited by a powerful ancestor in their dreams." I shut the book and lean into him. "I guess that answers that."
"Mmm."
"I don't even know what to do with the information. I'm a banshee." Each time I say it, I become more certain that it's right. It's both terrifying and reassuring at the same time.
"You don't have to do anything with it," he says.
"That's not true. I have these powers." I look at my hands as if expecting them to change and become magical, but I guess that's not how it works.
"That doesn't mean anything, you're more than what you are," he says. "Do you think I'm evil?"
"What? No, of course not. Why would I think you're evil?" I look at him, horrified that he'd think I was capable of thinking that.
He shrugs. "I come from a line of warlocks so twisted that their bodies warped and became this." He gestures to himself.
"I like the way you look."
"I'm glad to hear it. But that doesn't change anything I'm saying."
"But you're not evil," I point out. "You're sweet, and funny, and kind."
"With cute ears," he teases, giving them a wiggle.
Despite the seriousness of the conversation, I let out a laugh. "Yes, with cute ears." I sigh and look down at my hands.
"So if you can accept that I'm not evil because of what I am, why can't you accept that you're more than your magic? Banshees aren't even malicious, all they do is foretell death, they don't cause it."
"I don't know, because it feels like my whole life I've been building to finding out what I am, and it's strange to think that it's so..." I trail off, not really knowing what I'm trying to say.
"You're just forgetting all the other things you are," he points out. "You're beautiful, smart, determined, sexy, funny, and adorable." Every word he says rings true within me.
I nod and look out over the academy grounds. "I guess it's not right to judge my magic on the preconceived notions I have of it."
"That too. There's going to be so much that you can do with them that you don't even know about yet."
"Is it weird that I'm at Rosewood without understanding any of my magic?"
"We're all at Rosewood to learn," he points out. "Some of us know more about doing our thing when we come here, but it doesn't change the fact there's a lot we don't know."
"I guess that's true." And I did hope I'd be able to work out what I was by coming here. That's a goal accomplished, even if it isn't the answer I really wanted.
"I'll help you in whatever way I can," he says.
"I think I need to talk to the woman in my dreams again."
"Okay, we can do that. Though we might need to make a stronger potion this time," he says.
"Do you know how?"
He nods. "I do. We can try later, if you want? Or would you prefer to get some sleep?"
I snort. "I'm not going to be able to anyway. But if you'd rather have a rest..."
"As opposed to spending time with you? I'd be a fool for sleeping."
"I'll be unconscious for most of it," I point out.
"And not for the rest," he counters. "And if it means that you can get a greater understanding of what you are and how your powers work, then it's fine by me."
I shift on the bench and lean in so I can kiss him, wanting him to know just how appreciative I am of his support. He cups my cheek in his hand and kisses me back softly, but even that's enough to remind me of the need swimming around within me, desperate to be sated by something only he can give.
Perhaps tonight can hold the answer to more than one thing for us.