We rise, still holding each other’s hands like our lives depend on it. Aidon and Riven help us up.
I dare to glance down at the now-still body of my friend.
Night has already fallen.
Bane approaches and bows to me, then to Jestin, before gently scooping Nulok from the ground. Riven supports his head. Jestin touches him. We all do.
We want to help. In any way.
“I’m sorry I failed you,” Bane murmurs, averting his gaze.
“You didn’t.” Jestin only nods.
I failed us. If not for me, we wouldn’t be here. But I won’t make this moment about me. Not when the male I love is barely holding himself together.
Bane turns to his general, his arms cradling Nulok with reverence.
Riven steps closer, voice low. “After you finish in Santorili, check on Chief.”
Bane only nods, his face heavy with unspoken words.
Then he ascends, wings slowly unfurling, catching the night wind. The sound, the heavy, rhythmic beat of his wings, will haunt my nightmares for ages.
“I have no words to soothe your pain, but know that I am here if you need me,” Riven says to us. “Please, the Forest Witch provides accommodation for the night. Tomorrow, we still need to address the forest. Let’s eat something. I know it’s cruel, and that you have no time to grieve, but the living must come first.”
I don’t want to eat, yet I let Riven guide me into the cave where I woke up. The hideout has enough rooms for all of us, so everyone can have some space, plus a bath and a small dining area stocked with goods.
I cannot stomach anything, my body carrying me forward while my mind drifts in a haze.
Jestin… he disappears into one of the bedroom caves and stays there for hours.
And I fidget on the stool, my knees cuddled to my chest the whole time.
???
I’ve decided to give him the ultimate comfort, an ultimate gift from a female to her male. No, not a child.
Head.
I know he lost his friend, but what else can I do for him? Being with him, holding him, hugging him, it will never be enough. I’ve tried every form of comfort known to Fae-kind. The best?
Oblivion.
I tried to form a portal to bring him some wine, but my power rests now. So if I can’t drown him in liquor, I am going to give him a different kind ofoblivion.
Before my grief, I didn’t have much experience, only Dante, a few guards and the incubus that stole my virginity.
But since I became the queen of slumps and disappointment, I’ve learned how to take a dick, even if the lessons sometimes ended with me vomiting on the very same organs.
I know gross.
I crack open the door slightly. He lies in the near-darkness, a single wax candle giving faint light, its flame almost burnt down. I stroll inside, putting an extra effort into looking good. I even let my hair loose, so he can later grab it and pull hard. But when his bloodshot eyes flick to me, I realise I need to be less obvious.
“Jestin, I want to help,” I say, my voice low.
“I’m sorry, Sels. I just… need some time.” His broken tone only doubles my determination to pull him out of his head, even for a moment.
I climb onto his knees and he holds me tight. I let him - for a while. But when I shift to move down, planning to press against his trousers, he flinches and holds me tighter.
