by T Shadow
“It was n-nothing to concern yourself w-with Remington,” speaking to myself, I add, “not that you would h-have anyway.”
A sigh escapes Remi, and it sets the tone for the rest of this impromptu meeting. “We met the other day, he was waking up feeling weird at night and I explained why.”
Turning to the Zachariah fellow, she starts addressing him instead. “Did you know it was four, seemingly heterosexual men staying in the suite?”
“Seemingly heterosexual?” Landon’s voice ricochets off the walls— outraged at the prospect of being anything else but a heterosexual male and Zachariah’s stammering “no” is hidden beneath Landon’s predatory outrage.
“Right, okay, that’s settled then. I’m sure that now he knows he won’t do it again.” Crouching down to his height in a motherly fashion she presses her finger to his nose, almost like those memes showing a ‘booping’ motion.
“You won’t do it again will you, Zachy?” He shakes his head again, curling further into the armchair like it would protect him from the big, bad… well, human, right? Remi is a human after all.
“Mika, bring in the bastard will you?” Her shout doesn’t rival Landon’s. Considering hers is light and airy whereas his is all growls and spittle, but it does bounce off the walls like a bouncy ball on a rampage. As if summoned by the devil himself, that self-righteous fox barrels it’s way in the suite without a second thought, jumping up onto the chair that Zachy occupies, he curls into his side like he’s seeking warmth or comfort. The tigress, however, slinks into the room quickly, placing herself down on the other end of the chaise lounge that Remington occupies and it’s then, and only then, that Finnegan finally puts his book down.
“Wait, are you… the visitor that Landon mentioned?” Thank fuck that Finn is asking the question we were all wondering, and the one that makes sense. We’re all waiting for her answer, but she lifts her hand in a flicking gesture and if by magic, makes the door to shut without physical touch. Jerking back in my seat at the audible slam, I look at the woman who helped me only days ago.
The thrilling conclusion stuns not only me, but all of us. We were all so wrong about her being human. Maybe she’s a witch with really good perfume— considering she’s been able to hide her scent so well. Witches smell like rot and decay because of the stain on their souls from all the dark magic they conjure, and that’s kinda hard to cover up with a normal store bought perfume.
“Well… yes. I highly doubt I would pop by for a visit for no reason, especially since I’ve had the fortune of experiencing Landon’s version of a friendly welcome.”
Ah yes, we all remember that outburst. Landon shifts his head away, looking like he’s extremely interested in the carpet all of a sudden, rather than the trench coat clad woman. But that doesn’t deter her from continuing.
“I’m assuming that Landon let a little slip of why I’m here. Because you boys have not exactly been forthcoming with the reason for your visit.”
She looks at Remington pointedly and her brow lifts, her eyes narrow at him and he in turn, graces her with the same look whilst Landon, Finnegan and I silently study the exchange between the two.
Now, I call Remington ‘Alpha’ because, well, that’s his over-inflated personality, but that also makes him an asshole by default. But that doesn’t mean that anyone would be able to hold a staring competition with another alpha, unless they were… an alpha themselves. But a female alpha? Something doesn’t sit right here, and I can’t wrap my brain around it. Just as I go to question her heritage, Remington ends the stare off by looking away. I’d relish in the moment where Remington bowed before someone else, a female, no less, but unfortunately for me, she chooses to affix her gentle gaze on me instead. Before I have the chance to address her, which I would because, whoever asks me for anything anyway? I feel the familiar feeling of the change, my head feels as if it’s in a vice and my bones come close to breaking, the pain is second to the idea that it’s not me who will answer her, but Rokanis.
“Beast, I’m guessing that you are Rokanis.”
My voice comes out cracked and broken, but still slimy and reptilian, “Yesss.”
“Wonderful. I am Remi. Now, before I ask everyone else, which I will because I’m nosey as fuck, I want to know, why are you here?”
I can feel his hesitation to answer the question— his silence builds in my head like an oncoming migraine. It takes all of my mental capabilities to force an answer out of him, but it’s not the one I expected.
“Are you asssssking why I am here, or why Leeeland is here?”
Confusion colours her features, pulling her eyebrows together and causing a little line between her eyes, and a small crinkle on her nose. It would be cute if we weren’t in the situation we’re in, you know, the one where she’s delving into our personal lives.
“I suppose why Leland is here first, and then, the reason for your thunder being here,” I’m slightly confused at the statement, but before I can think about it she speaks again, seriously this time, “You are your own entity, correct?”
Nodding my head, Rokanis speaks again with his serpent-like tongue. “Leeeland is here because he couldn’t ssstay at that placeee.” Short and brief, I let out the breath I held in, hoping that he’s finished, but unfortunately for me, again, my mouth opens again and that traitorous bastard carries on.
"Leeeeland is not what he seeems. Though he is the youngeeest of eleven, he is deeeemed as nothing more than common trasssh. His brotheeers and ssssisters despissse him." I feel something wet on my cheek, small enough to be a tear, but it trails down until it reaches the underneath of my chin before dropping onto the collar of my t-shirt with enough weight to feel like a bullet from a gun. "If he had ssstayed, I'm sssure he would have perissshed, if not by someone elssse's hand, then hisss own."
What's that feeling you get when all of your feelings are stripped bare for everyone to see? It's exposure, vulnerability, it's that loss of control that carves a hole in your soul and lays all of your secrets bare. I try to argue against what Rokanis has blabbed, but he's still in charge, and I have taken an unwilling back-seat.
The tension in the room is replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread. Landon looks at me as if I've grown two heads, Finnegan gazes at me as if I'm a tot who has scraped both of my knees, and Remington, well… he stares at me in shock, as if I've killed the cat. I don’t know what is worse, being gawked at because someone might have killed you… or pitied because you might’ve killed yourself.
“I am here becaussse Leland isss, obvioussly. Sseparate entity I may be, but a sseparate physssical being I am not.”
In my utter desperation to gain control, either to voice my own feelings or to shut his big fat mouth, I force Rokanis back into the passenger seat for the remainder of this shit show of a ride. I need to explain my feelings, with my own words and without pity. But the problem is, no one tells you it's that hard, no one tells you it's difficult, and no one in the world tells you how you’re meant to feel. From this abrupt revelation? I feel like I’m dying on the inside.
How do you talk to three people you’ve spent months on the road with, a woman, tigress, incubus and a bloody fox that hardly know you, about your issues— when you shouldn’t have to?
I’d like to say I’m thankful for my life, obviously, but right now, I’m thankful for the red and white fox who unexpectedly jumps onto my lap, curling up in one of those fox balls before cooing. I had reservations about this hissing, spitting fox before, but when he makes his own decisions— taking them out of my own hands— I have to accept it. Remi herself makes her way over to us, but as if she seems unsure, she lays her hand on my shoulder and rests the other in my hair as she plays with it. Surprisingly, the action is hypnotically calming. Hypnotically calming in a way that I feel… safe enough to divulge my secrets. Or at least safe to divulge in some of the less abrasive ones.
“My brothers and sisters loathe me.” I snort, “Y-you know, like the Grinch? Hate, hate, hate,
l-loooathe entirely." I laugh at my own damn joke, but everyone else just stares. It's not a secret that there's an obscene amount of competition between Lord Draconis' children, but after the fifth child? The rest are forgotten about.
"O-obviously Luciano is the most competitive, considering he was born first." The hand on my shoulder grips slightly, with Remi confirming, "obviously," before allowing me to continue, her other hand still scratching my hair.
"Then there's Janico, Esemeda, Callinx and Yves. But after the first five, the rest of the children aren't paid much attention to. Then there's Guldive, Foshi, Gyros, Aana and Llofté and those five are thick as thieves… but then that leaves me."
Any confidence I had is slowly being siphoned away from me— almost as if I’m deflating, like a balloon with a hole the size of a pin prick. The weight of Remi’s hands start to feel like I’m participating in a deadlift, the crushing enormity of steel breaking my bones until I resemble nothing but a jellified meat-sack.
Believing that anyone could feel confident after reiterating the worst parts of their childhood is few and far between. If Rokanis didn’t open his big mouth, the people in this room would have been none the wiser, complacent with not knowing about someone’s shitty and downright disgusting upbringing.
Personally, I feel like my anger should be directed towards Rokanis, my beastly other half, or at least to Remi, the woman who walked into my life in an air of mystery whilst perched on a cloud of sadness and sarcasm. But no, who do I, of all people, blame for my childhood? Not my brothers or sisters, maybe my parents… No, I blame myself. Always put last by everyone else, alienated within an inch of my life, I blame the person I am, for not fighting hard enough for what I want.
But I wanted nothing at that house of horrors. I wanted nothing down those dark halls, secret passageways and hidden cubby holes. The bite of the whip hurt less than the bitter rejection I received from any and every person in that godforsaken place. In theory, no one even knows that I exist, so… that pretty much says everything.
“Leland, do you want to take a moment?” It sounds like a question, but the nudge on my shoulder implies that it’s a suggestion instead. Remi did just make me spill one of my darkest secrets, so maybe I should feel a little more freaked out than I am at the moment. Can someone realistically feel relieved yet pained at the same time? I imagine it’s like drowning, being weighed down with rocks but still being comforted by the gentle lull of the sea.
One of the other rooms in the suite seems like a good idea for a great escape right now, but if I leave, I’ll undoubtedly be left out of the all important conversation. I can’t have that, I came here to be involved, so I’ll immerse myself into this shit show until I’ve dug a hole that even I can’t get out of.
Slowly turning in my chair to face her, I mutter, “n-no, it’s okay. I’m m-more interested as to why y-you’re here.” As she looks down at me, her ginger hair frames her face like a wall of fire, and as she gets closer to me, it feels as if those thick, straight locks are impenetrable— hiding us from the rest of the eyes in the room. My gaze is ensnared by hers, and I couldn’t possibly look anywhere else.
Comfortable in our picturesque moment, I notice her eyes change— they go from light green, like fresh grass bathed in sunlight to completely white, her irises changing to the palest blue that I’ve ever seen - even the clearest of oceans couldn’t compete with this unusual colour.
I’m shocked by what I see, but with a smirk and a wink Remi is back to her usual sarcastic, snarky self. The smirk makes them think she’s hiding something, but the wink makes it seem as though this is a secret only we share, except I know that’s not true. Landon knows something about her. Maybe, this is why she’s here, to tell us about herself... the mysterious woman who smells enticing and delectable, but hides it, and herself, from the world?
Expecting a big flourish and willing information from Remi is like taking blood from a stone; nigh on impossible and very highly unlikely to happen. I doubt that the lady would reveal her secrets as quick as a tart’s knickers goes up and down.
“I don’t think you should compare Remi to the common whore’s drawers, Leland.”
That’s not what I meant, and you know it.
“Say it don’t spray it, stutter-mouth.”
For fucks sake, you overgrown lizard. If you’re not spilling my secrets you’re mocking my speech!
“I only mock it so that you’ve already heard it before. You can’t be surprised by an insult if you’ve already heard it.”
I don’t get your logic, Rokanis.
“You don’t get many things, Leland. Like women. You definitely don’t get women.”
What the fuck do you mean, I don’t get women?
“When was the last time you felt the warmth of a woman? Oh, yeah, right… Never.”
Rokanis I swear to fucking God if you mention that I’m a virgin to everyone I will find a way to murder you.
“If I die, you die.”
“Plus, you love me, right?”
“You’d never hurt your old bestie Rokanis, would you?”
“Leland..?”
You know, if I die, I'd at least have peace and quiet on tap.
“You don’t mean that.”
Just fucking watch me Rokanis, I’ll do it.
“You haven’t the balls!”
I’ve tried before, I’ll try again. You know, if you don’t succeed, try, try again.
Instead of replying, Rokanis groans. I guess that’s the end of that conversation then.
Thankfully my internal argument with Rokanis didn’t deter the conversation. It felt like it went on for a few minutes, maybe ten, but it was really only sixty seconds that I argued with the overgrown lizard. Remi is still behind me and everyone is looking at her expectantly, even Zachariah and the fox. What was his name again?
“Leland, you’ve already survived the inquisition today, so I won’t ask you anymore questions. However, who should go next?” I feel her behind me, though I wouldn’t describe her presence as looming… it’s rather comforting, like a newborn being swaddled tightly in a blanket. The feeling envelops me and as I feel myself getting lost in the sensation, I feel her hand rest gently on my shoulder again.
It strikes me then that she asked me a question rather than voicing a thought aloud. It seems innocent enough, so I do what any person in my situation would do, and just… pick one of the other guys.
“Landon.”
She tuts at me. I don’t know what it is about tutting… It feels almost as if she’s gently mocking me, rather than scornfully, though it’s difficult to know the difference.
“You can’t pick Landon,” bending down, she puts her lips close to my ear, whispering, “he knows all the good secrets.” Her breathy voice in that moment sends all the blood in my body south. If I wasn’t sitting at this desk, I’m sure she would have loudly announced to the group that her purr and her succulent lips gave me an instant hard on. I wouldn’t deny it, because even when she was acting weird, she was still fucking hot. If this was one of Finn’s die hard romance novels where they do all the kinky weird shit, I’d fully expect her to hold me down by the throat and fuck me, unforgivingly, into oblivion.
And I’d fucking enjoy it.
I’d expect whips and chains galore, only because there’s a glint in that woman’s eyes that spells trouble with a capital T. Her winks, one that she’s giving me now like we share yet another secret, promise that there is more to her than meets the eye, and me, well I’m more than happy to strip back the layers to find out what makes her tick.
“Finn?”
That earns me a smile, it’s heartfelt, warm and most of all, friendly. I haven’t experienced one of those in a while.
“What a good idea, now, what is Finn’s beast’s name again?” I go to reply to her question, but I’m stopped as she places her finger against my lips. They’re as soft and as delicate as I thought they would be— but the only thing that marrs her skin is an abundance of
tiny little scars.
“His name is Oshi.” Thankfully Finn manages to answer her undirected question before she calls on someone else to do so.
“Right, well, I guess we’re speaking to Oshi next then!” She sounds more excited than she did a second ago… why is talking to the dragons more exciting than talking to us?
“Why don’t you ask me what you want? Why do you need to ask Oshi?”
The friendly smile I saw a second ago turns into a sinister smirk for a fraction of a second— almost as if someone else’s emotions are coming through, or easier yet, Remi is masking her own facial expressions. No one seemed to have noticed the change but me, but as I scan the faces around me to double check I’m not hallucinating, I see Mika staring at me with her head tilted.
What does she know, that we don't?
“Now see! That’s such a funny question! Why do you think I’d possibly need to ask the beast a question rather than yourself hmmm?”
I thought her smile was sinister, but that would resemble someone crazy, out of their mind. Possibly off their nut on drugs, but not this woman. I regret that I misinterpreted that smirk, basing it purely on my own memory of sinister siblings, but no, that smirk is anything but sinister. It’s predatory, and not just any type of predatory— not a creature looking for a nibble or a meal to line their belly for the night. No, this is a smile for a predator who plays with their food before they eat it. “Go on, answer me. I know you want tooo!” Her sing-song voice is less than comforting.
Our collective silence is disturbed a second in by Zachy, who hides his face behind his hands only to peek through his fingers as Mika looks between us all before drawing her hood over her head as her eyes change from their mismatched colours to a more vibrant version of themselves, and the fox, well… he’s still sleeping.
As no one seems to want to answer her, Remi moves on from her smiling— which to be honest, freaks us all out— to pacing the length of the living room of the suite, except it’s not methodical, it’s somewhat disjointed.
