by A. M. Hodges
I seem to be the only one who notices. His form begins to waiver again and soon his Fae form is back in front of us.
"I think, we need to discuss this at a later time," Jeb's voice booms, shaking me out of my trance, "Reyna has been through a lot today. She needs to rest, to cope," he instructs, "We will go to the mansion and send for you when she is ready."
"Home. I want to go home," I interject. He doesn't argue. He simply nods his head and holds out his hand.
The three males escort me to the house, on guard with hackles raised the entire walk. It’s so tense that it’s almost suffocating. I don't say a word the entire trip. My mind is still reeling with the information I've learned today. Honestly, there are a lot more things from today to lament over, but this is what I am choosing to focus on. Anything else and I just might shatter.
We walk up my driveway and I hug Lucah before kissing Jeb goodbye. Miles remains in his place by the front door. I have a feeling even the two warrior males themselves won't be able to move him.
"It's okay," I whisper to Jeb, "he has been my best friend for most of my life. He protected me tonight, he revealed himself to you even when he didn't have to. He could have used his glamour. He won't hurt me, I promise. I'm just as deadly as you now, remember," I give him a half smile.
He looks to Miles at the door and then back to me before grabbing my face in his hands and kissing me again, this time far more urgently, like he would die without my lips on his. After he releases me, he turns and leaves with Lucah.
I walk to the door and look at Miles, "Shall we?"
I sprawl out on the chaise, feeling the weight of today sinking into my bones. Miles stands awkwardly in the entryway.
Marcus. You have to start calling him Marcus.
There is one thing from today that is sticking in my mind,
"Your wyvern. The scales," I only partially ask my question.
"My mother," he begins, "is a rare shifter. The king was also a shifter, but he died shortly after the war. My biological father, is Pixie."
My brows wrinkle in confusion.
"I don't understand what that has to do with your scales."
He takes a deep breath and shakes out his hair, dropping his last bit of glamour. As it shakes, I watch its color transform to look exactly like mine.
"What I'm saying, is that our father is still alive. You’re my biological sister."
I jump up from the chaise, "Sister?" I blurt.
He nods gravely, "Why do you think that it was so important to protect you, that they sent a six-year-old boy. A prince no less."
I shake my head, "No. NO! My father is dead. He died in the war, I read the history," I stammer.
"He was gravely injured in battle, but he is very much alive. He was found on the battlefield and taken as a hostage. My mother was tending to the wounded in our camp. She was not a queen who sat on a throne while her people died for her. But she wasn't a warrior either and never wanted to be. So, she spent her life becoming a healer. She spent days tending to our father, working tirelessly. She didn't sleep or eat except for the short naps she took at his bedside.”
“When our father opened his eyes for the first time, the mating bond snapped into place, and they fell in love soon after. She nursed him back to health and listened to stories of Malatia and his childhood. He listened to her past and the devastation that came from The Splicing. Together they came up with a plan to end the war. They wanted to ensure your sacrifice meant something. The treaty was drafted and months later, I was born. I am actually a year younger than you," he softly concludes, "I am your little brother."
The world seems to shift and I immediately plop down on the chaise behind me. I don't know what to think or feel. Not only do I have a twin, but I also have a little brother and my father is alive. All these years I've felt abandoned and alone, but I've had my true family here the whole time. My knee begins to bounce, and I stare at my clasped hands in my lap. I have no words for Miles right now. I'm angry and happy and devastated all at the same time, but if I speak all that will come out is an indistinguishable scream.
I look up at him. I try to speak but only a strangled cry escapes from my lips. He rushes over to me and pulls me into a rib crushing hug, soothing me as I begin to cry. I don't know at what point I started, but I am rocking back in forth. This is it, the complete meltdown that I’ve known was impending from the beginning of all this.
My head feels like it is going to explode from the inside, my heart is beating so hard and rapidly I am sure it is going to crash through my chest. There is snot disgustingly running down my face and tears pouring as I scream through my sobs. I feel my lungs constricting and I can't breathe. I'm suffocating.
"Rey. Shhhh. Rey calm down you are hyper ventilating," he smooths down my hair, "you need to slow your breathing down. Look at me. Deep breath in and let it out. Very good, keep doing it."
I spend ten minutes like this, breathing deeply in and out, until I finally feel the weight start to lift from my chest. My eye lids grow heavy, my head suddenly weighing too much for my body to support.
"You're my little brother," I whimper.
"WHAT!" Jeb roars down the bond.
It is the last thing I hear before I pass out.
∞∞∞
Jeb
I crash through Reyna's front door, Lucah frantically trying to keep up and stumbling in behind me. She is passed out on the chaise, Marcus sitting beside her. He jumps up when he sees me, hands raised in surrender.
"Stop, let me explain," he stammers, "I didn't know you were mates. I wanted Reyna to know first. This didn't concern you."
"She is my mate," I emphasize the last word,
"EVERYTHING that has to do with her concerns me. Especially when it's you. Do you know what she has been through today? What was already going through her head and eating at her? No, you don't. You have no fucking idea Marcus. This could have waited. She needed to deal with today's events, with the fact that she took someone's life today for the first time."
"S-she didn't say anything," he stammers again.
"Of course, she didn't say anything, she didn't fucking need to. She is my mate. I know her. I know her heart because it beats with mine in my own chest. This is crushing her! Being sent here so young, you don't know what it's like to take a life. You never experienced battle. I have. I know that pain, that guilt. She didn't need this right now!" I roar as I charge for him.
He stumbles back to evade me, but I am faster. I grab him by the throat and throw him across the living room, sending him crashing into Jackson's old recliner. Before he can stand, I am on him again, pounding my fist into his face, feeling the satisfying crunch of his bones. I can hear Lucah yelling but it mostly sounds like white noise. Both of Marcus's eyes are already beginning to swell and there is blood pouring from his mouth and nose, but I can't stop.
That feeling, the feeling that she sent down the bond before she passed out, mixed with the horrendous panic attack he forced her into is drilled into my skull and sawing at my heart. He would pay making her feel like that.
"JEB. Listen to me! She is waking up you have to stop!"
Lucah yells trying to pull me from Marcus.
"Jeb? What's going on?" Reyna’s voice breaks through my rage.
I release Marcus and rush over to her, kneeling in front of her now sitting up body.
"I'm here my love, you're okay. Everything is going to be okay."
Lucah is next to Marcus pulling him up and inspecting his already healing face.
"What did you do to him?" she gasps in a mixture of shock and horror.
"What I deserved," Marcus grumbles from his place by the window, "don't worry about me," he grinds out with a pained smile,
"I heal fast."
He even attempts to wink.
She cuts her eyes at me and it is the first time in my life that I cower like a damn kicked puppy. This woman. She has the power to bring an army to their knees, me included. Dangerous is what she
is, deliciously dangerous. I have bowed to no one in my entire life, but I will bow to her. Hell, I would probably crawl across flaming hot coals and shards of glass if she asked me too. She has me wrapped around her delicate little finger and she doesn't even know it. I know in that moment, there is something I need to do.
"I think it's best if everyone calls in quits for today. For a few days. Both of you need to leave. I'll deal with you later," I glare at Marcus, "Lucah, go back to the mansion. I'm going to be staying with Reyna for a few days." I don't miss the slight widening of her eyes at that last part.
Marcus looks like he wants to argue but Lucah discreetly shakes his head and pulls him out the door. I look at the beautiful woman sitting in front of me. So strong, yet so broken. She amazes me.
"Come on," I hold out my hand, "you smell like ass. Let's get you in the shower."
She glares at me playfully and takes my hand as I lead her up the stairs. I enter the bathroom to turn on the shower for her and lay out some fresh towels. When I walk back into her room, she is sitting on her bed staring at her hands.
"Krasivaya-"
"I killed someone," her voice cracks.
"Krasivaya, you had no choice. Listen," I sit down next to her, "I wish I could tell you that was the first and last time that you will have to do that. But it isn't. This is war. Remember what I told you. If it comes down to you or them, always choose you. I will always choose you."
"Survive," she whispers, nodding her head like she is mentally trying to convince herself. When she finally takes a deep breath and looks up at me, I know that I have my girl back.
I kiss her head, wrapping my arms around her, "Now, let's get you in the shower. Because tonight, I plan on worshipping every inch of you until the pain is gone, and there is nothing but pleasure left in those beautiful golden eyes."
She smirks and I feel her heartbeat quicken, "I guess you should shower with me then.”
She strips off her shirt as she saunters away and grins at me over her shoulder while undoing her bra. Holding it by a strap between her fingertips, she winks as she lets it fall to the floor. I bite my lip as I watch her wiggle her pants passed her ass before she bends over and slowly pushes them down her legs. She crooks her finger at me as she steps out of them and disappears into the bathroom. I swear to the seven fucking Hells she is going to be the death of me.
Chapter 20
Reyna
The next day is spent relaxing at the house with Jeb. We don't speak much, enjoying a lazy, comfortable silence. This is exactly what I needed. No long-lost siblings, no paternal revelations. No talk of war or Fae or magic. It’s like I am the old Reyna again. Well, except for the enormous, emerald haired Pixie sitting in Jackson's recliner.
I miss my old man so much. Days like these, the ache in my chest is so intense that it feels like my heart is being cleaved in two. On a day like today, we would have junk food piled high on the coffee table as we sat and watched our favorite movie series, quoting every line.
He would laugh at my weak impersonation of Jack Sparrow and scold me for not pausing the TV when he had to make a trip to the bathroom or to get more snacks, even though he has already seen the movies hundreds of times. I wonder what he is doing right now; if he is recovering easily and if he misses me as much as I miss him.
I am saving Pirates of the Caribbean for tonight. I have introduced Jeb to the world of Gilmore Girls for the day. He truly likes it, even though he won't admit it. He can't fool me into thinking that he is only watching it for my benefit. I hear his telltale snickers coming from the other side of the room, see the shock and curiosity on his face when Rory does something stupid. Luke seems to be his favorite character which doesn't surprise me.
I am lounging on the chase with my Luke's coffee mug and wearing my "I read like a Gilmore" t-shirt. When he first made the connection between my attire and the show, he got a cheesy grin on his face and looked at me like I was a teacup puppy. Adorable.
That's what he called me.
Normally, adorable isn't what I am going for, but I don’t mind him seeing this side of me. The side that isn't all snarky comments, brave faces, and provocative outfits. It's the side that is me in my core. The side that is vulnerable. I’ve never shared this part of me with anyone else, only Jackson, but this is the part of me that I love the most. When I am truly myself. It keeps me humble and real.
I catch him staring at me sometimes, his features soft and considering. He looks at me like I am a thousand-piece puzzle waiting to be put together so that he can see the final beautiful picture, his awe growing with every piece snapped into place. I love that.
After binge watching two seasons, we sit in the floor and I teach him how to play Monopoly. We talk about our childhoods. I learn about his brother and sister, surprised to find out that he is a triplet. He speaks about his brother, Josiah, with love and the usual brotherly irritation. He speaks of his sister, Josephine, with so much pride that it's like she put the stars in the sky and harnessed the moon.
He told me about the band that they formed together before war neared and their training began. They still play occasionally, though I can tell it isn't as much as he would like. I can feel the deep, unyielding love that he has for them radiating from him as he tells me their stories.
We talk about books and he insists that I make him a list of my favorites so that he can read them. My heart does a little flip at the thought, and I waste no time filling up a sheet of paper. It is unbelievably hard to narrow down my "favorites". I love them all, so I write down all the ones that I own, designating my collection his personal library.
I tell him of the adventures I've had and the lives I've lived through my books. I explain to him the very real heartbreak I feel each time a story ends, and the emotional hangover that sometimes lasts for days after. He looks at me with nothing but understanding.
We talk until the sun sinks low behind the trees. Deciding that I need more nutrients than the junk we have been snacking on all day, he makes a call to the local diner and orders carry out for both of us before slipping out to pick it up. I clean up the living room and set up a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor before getting the TV set up for our movie marathon.
He walks through the front door as I round the corner from the bathroom, equipped with a mouthwatering smorgasbord of food. Multiple bags are in each of his hands.
"I got one of everything," he says bashfully.
"Perfect," I say with a reassuring smile before leading him to my make-shift bed in the living room floor. I retrieve plates and silverware from the kitchen and he tediously lay out and organizes the food on the coffee table. When I walk back in, it honestly looks like a buffet.
We load up our plates and I sit cross-legged in the middle of the pile. As I hit play, Jeb relaxes against the coffee table with his plate.
He laughs at my weak impersonation of Jack Sparrow and orders me to pause it when he needs a bathroom break, threatening me against continuing without him. Perfect. He is utterly perfect.
My heart swells with infinite love for this male, the gaping hole in my chest slowly beginning to fill. We make it through the first two movies before he pauses the TV, looking at me with a thoughtful, serene look in his eyes.
"Dance with me," he gently commands before standing and offering me his hand.
I reach up and grasp it and he pulls me into a loving embrace. There is no music, only the gentle thump of our hearts in sync and his low voice singing 'Can't Help Falling in Love.' I didn't put it on his playlist, nor did he mine, but he sings it perfectly without the ques from the instrumental.
This is the memory that I will go to when I think of Jeb. This night, this moment here with him, is the one that I will carry in my heart and cherish. Always.
∞∞∞
I awake the next morning curled into Jeb's naked chest, completely captivated in his warm embrace. My bliss lasts only moments before I remember what day it is, Christmas Eve. My first of many without Jacks
on.
My chest aches. It takes me a moment to remember what woke me. Wait, there it is again, that incessant knocking on the front door. I peal myself from Jeb, trying my best not to wake him, before rolling over and pulling on his over-sized t-shirt and going to answer the door.
I open it to find Lucah and Miles, both with mega-watt smiles plastered on their faces. Lucah is standing on the porch, surrounded by wrapped presents and bags upon bags of Christmas decorations for both inside and outside of the house. Miles is standing at the bottom of the stairs supporting a freshly cut Christmas Tree. For once, I don't even try to hold back the tears pooling in my eyes, letting them fall freely down my face.
Lucah's smile turns sympathetic as he sees my tears, "We couldn't let you miss out on Christmas, Jackson would kill us," he says with a wink.
I feel Jeb approach behind me, dressed in nothing but his grey sweatpants that were discarded on my chaise last night. I turn around to see the proud smile on his face, not even the tiniest bit of shock marring his features.
"You did this didn't you," I state between sniffles, not even bothering to form it as a question.
His only answer is a light kiss planted on my forehead as he pulls me into his side.
"Thank you," I whisper as I cling to him.
“You’re welcome,” he pops me lightly on the butt, “Now go put some pants on.”
