Chapter 5 Watching #2
His expression softened. "I know. I can see it on your face." He sat on the edge of the bed beside the packed bag. "Tell me about the thread thing again. How does it feel?"
I pressed my hand to my chest, right over where the connection seemed strongest. "Like... a tether. A warm line connecting us. When he's close, it's this contented hum, like everything is exactly as it should be. When he's far away, like now, it's a gentle pull, tugging me in his direction."
"That's some serious woo-woo shit," Ziggy observed. "The Moirai really came through for you, huh?"
"changing your mind about seeing them?"
"Nope," Ziggy declared confidently.
I laughed, turning back to my laptop. "Let me just finish this email, then I need to change before my meeting."
Ziggy flopped back on my bed dramatically. "Fine, be responsible. I'll just lie here and imagine your demon daddy ripping more of your clothes off."
"Please don't call him that to his face," I begged, though the mental image made me snicker despite myself.
"No promises."
My phone buzzed on the desk beside my laptop, the screen lighting up with a notification.
I reached for it absentmindedly, assuming it was either a client following up before our meeting or Magnur checking in.
My fingers were already swiping to unlock the screen when I registered that the number was unknown.
My stomach tightened instinctively, but I told myself it could be anything, a delivery confirmation, a telemarketer, a wrong number.
A photo filled my screen—Magnur and me outside my building that morning, locked in an embrace.
The angle was slightly off-center, as if taken hastily from a parked car or a hiding spot across the street.
Below the image, a message in stark black text: "You really replaced me with a monster? You think he's better than me? He won't protect you."
Trevor.
My blood turned to ice water in my veins, my fingers going numb around the phone.
The device suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, the image burning into my retinas.
He'd been here. Outside my building. Watching.
Taking pictures. How long had he been following me?
Had he been the presence I'd sensed in the hallway?
"Jade?" Ziggy's voice sounded far away. "Hey, what's wrong?"
My hands started to tremble, the phone vibrating slightly with the force of my shaking. Ziggy was at my side instantly, gently prying the device from my unresisting fingers.
"What the—" he began, then stopped as he saw the image and text. His expression transformed from confusion to fury in the span of a heartbeat. All the playful energy drained from him, replaced by a cold, focused anger I rarely saw.
"That motherfucker," he breathed. "This is from Trevor?"
I nodded jerkily, finally finding my voice. "New number. Again."
He looked at me, then back at the phone, his jaw working as he processed what he was seeing.
"Jade." Setting the phone down on the desk he took both my hands in his, forcing me to look at him.
"This is escalating. You know that, right?
This isn't just annoying texts anymore. He's physically stalking you. "
I'd been telling myself for months that Trevor would eventually get bored, move on but here was evidence that he was only getting more obsessive and invasive.
"You need to tell Magnur," Ziggy continued, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Today. Now."
"I know."
Ziggy handed my phone back to me, watching as I blocked the new number and took screenshots of the message and photo for evidence.
"Good," he said, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "For being here."
"Always." He squeezed my shoulder, then straightened up, visibly shifting gears. "Now, let me tell you about my hookup last night."
I recognized what he was doing, changing the subject to pull me out of the dark place my mind was heading. It was a technique we'd perfected over years of friendship. I let him do it, grateful for the lifeline.
"So," he began, returning to his spot on the bed, "I met this satyr at The Cauldron, you know, that new place on 7th that serves those color-changing cocktails?"
I nodded, forcing myself to focus on his words rather than the sick feeling in my stomach.
"Anyway, he was hot. Like, objectively gorgeous. Curly hair, bedroom eyes, legs for days—well, the top halves of his legs, anyway." He winked. "So we're flirting, right? And he invites me back to his place. I'm thinking, score! But then we get there, and turns out he lives with his entire herd."
"His what?" Despite everything, I found my attention caught by the absurdity.
"His herd! Like, twelve other satyrs all crammed into this loft apartment.
Apparently they're super communal." His hands flew as he told the story.
"So I'm standing there in the living room, surrounded by all these half-goat men, and my date says, 'Oh, by the way, we share everything. ' And I mean everything."
My eyes widened. "No."
"Yes!" Ziggy nodded enthusiastically. "Turns out I had accidentally agreed to some kind of satyr orgy situation. Which, under different circumstances, might have been intriguing, but—"
"But you were expecting a one-on-one situation," I finished for him, feeling the corner of my mouth twitch.
"Exactly! So there I am, trying to figure out how to politely decline a twelve-satyr gangbang, when one of them offers me something to drink. I'm thinking it's just like, water or whatever, so I say sure."
"Oh no."
"Oh yes. It was NOT water. It was some kind of fermented... I don't even know what. Tasted like feet and fire. So I spit that shit out."
A snort of laughter escaped me before I could stop it.
"Turns out," he continued, "that's like a huge insult in satyr culture. Like, the equivalent of slapping someone's grandmother. So now I've got eleven offended satyrs and one very embarrassed date."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"The only reasonable thing, I pretended to get a phone call about a family emergency and bolted. Then I blocked his number and took three showers when I got home. I swear I can still smell goat."
I laughed hard until tears leaked down my face and my stomach hurt. Ziggy grinned at me, mission accomplished.
"There she is," he said softly. "My best girl."
I wiped at my eyes. "You're ridiculous."
"And you love me for it." He hopped off the bed and moved to my closet. "Now, let's get you out of that shirt and into something for your client meeting, and I have a lunch date that hopefully doesn't involve hooves."
I let him pull me to my feet, grateful for the distraction, I changed quickly and dropped my bag by the door so I'd be ready to go as soon as Magnur returned.
I had just finished my meeting when another knock sounded at my door.
I didn't need to check the peephole to know who it was.
The thread between us hummed with proximity, pulling taut like a string connecting my sternum directly to the demon on the other side of the door.
Ziggy darted to the door and pressed his eye to the peephole. He turned back to me with an exaggerated "oh fuck" expression, fanning himself silently.
"That is a whole lot of man," he whispered, eyes wide. "You weren't exaggerating."
"Told you," I whispered back, smoothing my skirt nervously.
I moved toward the door and there stood Magnur, filling the entire doorframe like some beautiful, suited colossus.
His eyes found mine immediately over Ziggy's head, softening from their usual intensity to something warm and private.
The thread between us vibrated with pleasure at the proximity, making my breath catch.
"Hi," I said, stupidly.
"Hello," he replied, his voice that same deep rumble that made my insides turn to jelly.
Ziggy looked between us, clearly enjoying the obvious electricity. "Well!" he announced, far too loudly. "I'm Ziggy, best friend, emotional support, and general pain in the ass." He extended his hand to Magnur, who engulfed it in his without hesitation.
"Magnur," he replied, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Oh, the pleasure is all mine, believe me." Ziggy's grin was positively wolfish as he gave Magnur a blatant once-over. "Jade has told me so much about you. Well, your more... impressive qualities, anyway."
I closed my eyes briefly, mortified. "Ziggy..."
"What?" He feigned innocence. "I just meant your height. And your muscles. And your penthouse. What did you think I meant?"
Magnur chuckled. "I'm sure I can guess."
Ziggy winked at me, then grabbed his messenger bag from the couch. "Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds to it. Take care of my girl, yeah?" His tone remained light, but I caught the genuine concern beneath the teasing.
"I intend to," Magnur said.
Ziggy seemed satisfied with this. He squeezed past Magnur but not before shooting me a thumbs up.
Then the door closed behind him, and suddenly Magnur and I were alone in my apartment.
The thread between us pulsed with contentment at our reunion, but beneath it, I felt the weight of what I needed to tell him pressing down on me like a stone.
"You look troubled," Magnur observed, his eyes tracking over my face with careful attention.
I took a deep breath, gesturing toward my small living room. "Can you sit?" I asked. "There's something I need to tell you."
A flicker of concern crossed his features, but he nodded, moving to my couch and lowering himself onto it. I perched on the edge of the coffee table across from him, our knees almost touching in the limited space.
"Before we go any further," I began, my heart hammering against my ribs, "there's something about my past you should know. Something that might affect...us."
His expression remained open, though I noticed his hands flatten against his thighs, as if preparing himself for whatever blow might come.
"I was in a relationship," I continued, forcing myself to maintain eye contact.
"For three years. With a man named Trevor.
It ended badly, It started like most toxic relationships do, wonderfully.
He was attentive, seemingly supportive, always telling me how lucky he was to have found me.
" I laughed, the sound hollow even to my own ears.
"Then it changed. Slowly, so slowly I barely noticed at first."
My fingers twisted together in my lap as the familiar shame crept up my spine, shame that I hadn't seen it coming, that I'd allowed it to happen, that I'd stayed as long as I did.
"When I finally left, he didn't take it well.
Started calling constantly, showing up at my workplace, sending gifts I never asked for.
I changed my number, moved apartments, got a restraining order.
" I took a deep breath. "But he keeps finding ways to contact me. New phone numbers, email addresses."
I reached for my phone, unlocking it to show him the screenshot I'd saved earlier. "This came today. After you dropped me off."
"He was here," Magnur said, his voice dangerously soft. "This morning."
It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. "Yes. He must have been watching when you dropped me off."
"Has he threatened you directly? Physical harm?"
I shook my head. "Not explicitly. It's always... implied. Vague enough that police can't do much." I gestured at the phone. "But this is escalating. The photo, calling you a monster..."
"I am a monster," Magnur said quietly. "But I suspect his definition and mine differ significantly."
I reached out, laying my hand on his knee. "I wanted you to know. Before this goes any further between us. I didn't want to hide it or pretend everything's fine when clearly it isn't."
His hand covered mine, warmth enveloping my fingers. "Thank you for trusting me with this."
When he looked up from our joined hands, the expression on his face made my breath catch.
His eyes had darkened to a crimson so deep it was nearly black, glowing with an internal light that seemed to pulse with his heartbeat.
His features remained perfectly composed, but the energy radiating from him had shifted into something ancient and predatory.
"I have a... complicated relationship with those who attempt to control others," he said. "Those who use fear to manipulate. Those who believe they own another person's will."
"I would never harm someone simply for being your former partner," he continued. "But a man who stalks you, who tries to intimidate you, who refuses to respect your boundaries and choices? That is different."
"I don't want you to do anything... illegal," I said carefully.
A smile touched his lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Of course not. I'm simply making you aware of where I stand on this matter."
His hand tightened slightly over mine, a gentle pressure that was somehow more reassuring than any words could have been. The thread between us pulsed with shared understanding, shared anger.
"No one will hurt you while I'm here," he said.
I believed him. God help me, I believed him completely.
"Thank you for telling me," he said, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. "This changes nothing about what I want with you. Except perhaps to make me more certain."
"More certain of what?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"That fate knew exactly what it was doing," he replied, "when it tied my thread to yours."