by J. J. Dean
"You don't know what you're talking about. Now, if you'll excuse me," I tell them both, putting my mind on the task at hand, clattering and banging around in the kitchen in hopes they’ll leave me to my thoughts for a little while.
I hear Spencer leave, no doubt heading upstairs. Nix stays behind, much to my exhaustion. "Ezra, you can talk to me, man. I don't see a problem here that you're not creating. You like her, and if what I saw through the window is anything to go by, she likes you too. You already feel the mating bond between the two of you, so what's the deal?"
At the end of my tether, I sigh heavily and turn to face him fully. "The deal is that I'm not what she needs. That much is glaringly obvious. If I was, I'd be able to bond with her the way she's tethered to us. But I can't and won't ever be able to. If I was meant for her, just as the three of you seem to be, I’d have some kind of bond to her too. Demons don't mate, though. So you can understand why I'm miserable when the first woman I've ever truly wanted can't be mine in any sense of the word. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have dinner to prepare."
"Ez-" he starts, but I'm done with sharing my feelings. I didn't even mean to give him that much, but it's too late to take it back now.
"Nix, please drop it. I don't want to talk about it. It'll pass."
The room goes quiet for a moment until I hear him sigh. I can feel his disappointment as though it were my own, but I don't acknowledge it. I have enough of my own disappointment to deal with. I don't need the shifter's added on top of it. His footsteps leave the room a moment later, leaving me alone in the kitchen to think about these feelings I have for the fae and whether they will ever actually pass, or if I'm going to be left to suffer with them for whoever knows how long.
Only time will tell, I guess.
Chapter 20
Novia
Zayn and I stop at his room to gather some books that might help in understanding my abilities and how I have them at all.
"There's a book I'd like you to read at some point. Maybe that will give you some answers I'm not able to provide," Zayn comments as he walks towards the shelves lined with more books than I've ever seen in one place before.
I watch him pick out several books, stacking them in his arms as he animatedly talks about their contents, but I'm not really paying much attention to so much of what he's saying. Instead, I'm focusing on the way his voice sounds as smooth as satin, how it relaxes me instantly. I focus on the way he moves across the room, not overly confident but enough so that I know he finds no reason to act any differently than being himself. I watch the way his shirt pulls across his back when he reaches a book on a higher shelf with rapt attention, and the way the toned muscles in his arms bunch up as he carries the stack he's now holding towards me. Normally, Zayn wears button-down shirts or long-sleeved shirts that hide the defined muscles, but the t-shirt he wears today makes them stand out enough that I can't seem to take my eyes off him.
"Novia? Are you okay?" he asks, a small smile pulling up his mouth, though he does try his best to suppress it.
It takes me a minute to realise why he's trying to hide a smile, but when I do, I feel a blush coursing up to my cheeks, and I quickly avert my eyes. I will remember he's a mind reading vampire and learn to cap my thoughts constantly one of these days.
With an awkward head bob that's supposed to be a nod, I tell him, "Yep. Great. I'm fine."
He nods, but the small smile grows. I roll my eyes and head out of his room with my cheeks flaming. Zayn follows close behind me, balancing the stack of books easily as we make our way down the end of the hallway and up the stairs that lead to my room.
Just as we reach the top, and my eyes take a look around, I pause. Since waking up, I haven't really paid much attention to my room, so this is the first time my eyes have raked over its entirety since we left to go shopping.
The whole room is decorated to perfection. My bed has the duvet set Spencer and I decided on. Decorative cushions lie on the floor to the right side of the bed ready to be put back in place, and a white, distressed rocking chair on the left that Spencer occupied before. There are photo frames filled with black and white pictures of dahlias, camellias and irises on the walls with beautiful white fairy lights strung around them. White bookshelves have been built and placed in different parts of the room, along with a bedside table, a vintage distressed vanity, and a television stand where the stupidly large TV Ezra ordered now sits hooked up to all the gadgets a person could need. A grey fluffy rug lies on the floor, and grey and white layered chiffon curtains hang over the large windows. How I didn't notice all of this before is a mystery to me, but it's stunning. It's everything I could have ever wanted and more.
"Your closet is stocked, too. Ezra and I hung and put all of your clothes away. You should check it out when you have a spare minute," Zayn says from behind me.
Realising I've stopped on the stairs while Zayn holds a stack of books in his arms, I move into the room and give him space to place the books down on the bed. I walk closer to the black and white photos, lifting my hand to brush gently over the glass that's protecting the photos underneath.
"Do you like them?" Zayn asks from behind me. Where I'd normally jump at someone sneaking up on me, I find myself relaxing and smiling at the beautiful photographs.
"I love them. Is that where you and Nix disappeared to?"
"That would be the reason. I went searching for the pictures, lights, and curtains, while Nix took on the furniture. All four of us decorated while you recovered," Zayn explains, coming to stand next to me.
I turn my head to face him and say, "You all did an amazing job. The room is beautiful."
He gives me a smile that has my heart somersaulting under my rib cage, and I force myself to look away. I turn and walk to the middle of the room, taking in the effort they've all put into making the space mine. My chest warms, knowing they've done all they can to make me feel at home.
"Go inspect the closet before we dive into the research," Zayn says, walking behind me and coaxing me along toward the door that I know hides the closet. I laugh at Zayn's gentle nudging in attempt to move me faster, but I do as I'm told.
When I open the closet door and get a first glance at the inside, my mouth drops open in shock. I know for certain that I did not have that many clothes before being shot and falling unconscious. I also know I didn't have that many pairs of heels and boots. Every railing is filled with clothes: shirts, dresses, jackets, you name it.
My head swivels towards Zayn and I know my eyes are as wide as the damn moon. He throws his hands up in a placating gesture and quickly says, "I'm not to blame for most of that. Spencer and I are only to blame for what you already knew you had. The rest... well, that was Ezra coping with you being unconscious and unresponsive for almost a week."
My eyebrows scrunch in confusion. There are so many things I want to question about that sentence, but I blurt the first questions that come to me. "Ezra's coping mechanism is to shop for clothes? And did he have to buy so much? He must have bought at least three stores worth of clothes."
I walk further into the room, brushing my hand over the beautiful dresses that line one wall, and move on to the shirts ranging in all kinds of colours and materials. As I'm moving towards the large dresser, Zayn answers. "He was rather distraught when you wouldn't wake up after the second day, so Spencer gave him a task to focus on while you recovered. He might have gone a little overboard, but he wanted to do something even if it seemed trivial."
Despite the amount of clothing in this room, that little bit of information has my heart melting into a puddle. He couldn't do anything while I recovered, so he bought me clothes to make up for it. I'd laugh if it wasn't strangely adorable. I can absolutely forgive the obnoxious amount of clothing in this room for the reasoning behind it.
I look into the dresser and find silk nightgowns aplenty. The first drawer is filled to the brim with various pastel coloured gowns, with the second and third overfilled with black, white, dark purples and r
eds gowns, with the odd deep teal colour thrown in there. The drawers beneath those are full of comfy looking pyjamas, baggy sleep shirts, and other night wear.
Blinking rapidly, I move to a different section of the room and find a stunning collection of lavish dressing gowns that I never would have worn before I was taken. Looking at them now and feeling the silk glide through my fingers has me thinking these items of clothing will no doubt be my favourite.
When I open a drawer that contains nothing but underwear, I promptly slam it shut with flaming cheeks. "I see he was very thorough in his shopping."
Zayn outright laughs, and my embarrassment almost flees with the sound of his smooth chuckles. "He bought you everything you'd ever need. We all told him he was going overboard, but he wouldn’t hear any of it. At least you won't be short of any sort of clothing anytime soon."
I snort and mutter, "You could say that again."
Shaking my head at the absurdity of my new closet, I turn and walk out of the room, Zayn backing away from the door to let me pass. Before I take a seat on the bed, Nix's head pops up over the banister to the stairs. As soon as his eyes meet mine, a grin forms on his face. "Mind some extra company?"
I roll my eyes with a smile and tell him, "You're more than welcome to join. We're only reading through books to figure out what could have caused my extra abilities."
He cringes, though he tries to hide it. I can't help the laugh that escapes me, and I tell him, "Or you could just hang out in here with us. You can have the TV while Zayn and I tackle the books."
Nix sends me a bigger grin and walks further into my room. He drops to the bed, brushing a hand over mine as he walks by me. Not knowing where the remote is, I tell him to find them himself while I pick up the first book and climb onto the bed, sitting cross-legged next to a sprawled out Nix. Zayn picks up a book and settles into the rocking chair.
A couple of pages into the book I'm reading - on Naturals and mostly about things I already knew - Spencer joins us in my room. He doesn't make a big deal of it, just picks up a book, magics in a dark grey bean bag with a flick of his wrist and a spark of yellow, and settles in to read with us.
The room is quiet save for the action movie Nix has put on. At some point during our reading session, Nix moved and is now acting as my cushion, his stomach supporting my back while the rest of his body curves around mine. I don't know when he moved, or how we got into this position, but we both seem to be comfortable, and I like it too much to move.
It's twenty minutes later, and no answers found when Ezra comes upstairs holding two bowls of spaghetti and meatballs. " It's all dished and ready to go, but, as you can see, I only possess two hands. You shits can get your own food."
I muffle my snickering with my hand when Nix curses and Spencer calls Ezra a giant ass, and catch the smirk Ezra wears before handing me my bowl. He steals Zayn's seat while the three leave the room.
"What are you guys doing up here?" Ezra asks, tucking into his food after asking the question.
I nudge the pile of books with my foot, drawing his attention to them. "We're researching. Zayn mentioned having books on Naturals that he thought might help us figure out why I’m different, so we're looking through them. Nix is watching some action movie on Netflix because it seems like he's allergic to reading."
Ezra snorts and almost chokes on the mouthful of food he's just taken. "Yeah, research isn't Nix's strongest suit."
I shrug. "It doesn't bother me. He's keeping the rest of us company while we search, and I like having the company. I've gone too long without normal, you know? Just having you guys nearby means a lot to me."
Ezra goes quiet, and it's only a few mouthfuls of food later that I realise he's stopped eating entirely and is watching me. "What? Is there sauce on my face?"
He shakes his head and blinks, diverting his eyes to his bowl. "Uh, no. You're fine."
Not a minute later, the others join us. Zayn takes up position at the end of the bed since his seat’s been stolen, but we all settle quickly. For the next hour, we all lounge around watching the remainder of the movie while eating good food.
As soon as the movie ends, Zayn says, "Alright, shall we continue our search for answers?"
I nod quickly, bending over Nix to place my bowl on top of his on the nightstand before dropping back into my seat. I snatch up the book I'd been working through before dinner and say, "Sure. Let's get reading."
I don't get an answer, so I lift my head from the book and look at the guys. As soon as my eyes lift to meet theirs, they all look away and dive into their books, or movie in Nix's case. Ezra stays with us to search through the stack of books on the bed, and we quickly fall into silence while we look for answers to the mystery that is me.
When the first book I read doesn't provide any answers, I move onto the next. I pick up an old looking book, the cover and spine worn and slightly tattered on the edges. Flicking the page open, a shiver runs down my spine. Nix brushes a hand over my back, maybe without realising he's doing it, but I'm grateful for the warmth it provides when I suddenly grow cold.
I flick through the pages, my hand growing colder with every page I turn, until I feel compelled to stop at one particular page. I read over the words carefully:
'And so a new story begins. The prophesied will return, a being born of life and death, who lives with the earth and spirits. With the return of the blessed being will bring the hope for supernaturals of all kinds, for the last fae will hold the only chance of survival. Our only chance at salvation.'
The page is blank after that. I turn the page and find nothing but blank spaces where words should be. That's unusual.
I flick through the pages, skimming over everything about the history of Naturals before I reach the part where the words just...stop. What the hell? What kind of book is this? Why does Zayn own a book that isn't even finished? And what does that last page mean? The prophesied, born of life and death? Lives with earth and spirits? The words don't make sense to me, but they ring with something familiar. Something I feel like I should be understanding, but the more I try, the more confused I grow.
Shaking my head, I close the book and settle against Nix, who's found his way wrapped around me again. Quietly, he asks, "Everything okay, babe? Found something?"
"Uh, I don't know. I don't think so. It's probably nothing."
"Want to tell me what it was?" he probes, brushing my hair so it drapes over my shoulder. I shake my head slightly at myself, thinking on the words in the book. They seem so familiar to me, but I know I've never read them before in my life. It's the first time I've seen them, yet I feel as though I've known every single word from that paragraph for years.
I pick the book up and flick to the page I was reading. Nix reads the page over my shoulder, resting his chin in the dip of my collarbone. I move my head just to watch his expression as he reads, but nothing akin to recognition sparks in his blue eyes. I turn my head and read over the words again. The feeling that I know these words grows stronger the more I read them.
I climb off the bed and begin pacing the room. I don't pay attention to anything around me; instead, I recite the words just above a whisper as I walk back and forth. "A new story... return of the prophesied… life and death, earth and spirit... hope and chance of survival-"
Cutting myself off, my head snaps up, and I stare at the photos on the wall. Born of life and death. Just how literal is that sentence? Because I suppose you could say I was born of life and death. Mom passed away giving birth to me. She'd died before I was delivered. Could... could this be about...
Facing Zayn with enlarged eyes, I ask, "Please tell me you were listening in on all of that."
He nods, his eyes widened with awe but distant.
"Heard what? Fill us in here, guys," Nix says, sitting up on the bed while he pulls the book onto his lap to read again.
Zayn snaps out of his thoughts and makes his way to the bed, reading over the page with the shifter. "Of course. How didn't I put that toget
her as soon as you told us about your mother?"
He stands and walks over to me, cupping my face gently in his hands. His eyes bore into mine, the intensity of his gaze enough for me to need to hold on to his arms for stability. "Born of life and death; your birth. Prophesied returning; you returned from your capture. The last fae; that's you, Novia. It doesn't make sense right now, but that entire paragraph is pointing towards you. How didn't I see this sooner?"
My mind is reeling. If it is about me, what does it all mean? Prophesied for what? Hope and salvation? I don't understand. None of it makes sense, and yet... it feels like Zayn is right. Like there's something deep within me urging me to accept the words on the paper, what Zayn has voiced out loud.
I take a seat on the bed facing Nix and Zayn. My eyes drop to the book, and I reach for it slowly, needing to read over the paragraph one more time. When my hand touches the book, I'm once again shocked when a cold sensation runs down my spine, and I begin to shiver as though the temperature in the room has suddenly dropped.
I place the book in my lap, getting colder and colder, but something is suddenly drawing me to the words on the paper. It doesn't feel like I'm in control, but subconsciously, I know this is what I should be doing.
I take a deep breath, and when I release it, the air leaves me in a fog of condensation. My body grows even colder, my breathing grows slower and deeper, while my heart slows steadily.
Looking down at the book, I raise my hand and hover it over the writing on the page.
"Novia, I can barely hear your heart. What's going on?" Nix asks, worry growing in his voice.
I vaguely hear Zayn hush him because my focus is on the book. Like a magnet drawing my hand closer to the page, I drop my trembling fingers to the ink on the paper. My hand grows ice cold, the feeling trailing up my arm quickly. My veins feel like they’ve turned to ice, and my heart slows until it's barely beating.
