“I killed my origin.”
My heart stops. “You…what?”
Slow, he repeats himself, “I killed my origin, Tor. He died of fright—ofme. His pure fear of being unable to help people killed him, and that pure fear…was me. The stark realization is what led me to evolve, right on top of his dead body.”
My stomach twists, sickened at the very thought that my kind friend would have been subjected tothatin his first moment of true awareness.
Ever gentle, he proceeds, “When we first met, you seldom showed a kind emotion. You had filled the hollow in you with anger and malice. The malice is how Cael found you. The fear that started to grow after you’d developed something like carefor us is why I fought to hold on for so long. We left because it hit a point where it felt like we were just enabling you.”
Mouth filled with ash, I say, “You left because Caelknewthere was something wrong with me that couldn’t be fixed. You left because you sided with him, and he gave up on me.” It hurts to swallow. “And you were right to. You both were right about me. If it’sall my fault, I’m dangerous because Ichooseto be, and as recently as a few weeks ago, I turned a spider to stone. I didn’t think I’d meant to, but clearly I’m unreliable even inside my own skull. If I’m upset, my anger poisons everything.”
“Or, you still believed at that point that you couldn’t help it, so you didn’t. Things change.You’vechanged. If you believe now that it’s a choice, I still believe in your ability to choose it.”
My stomach turns to stone. “What if I resent you for leaving me? What if the love I think I have for you isn’t enough? What if I’m angry still, and a stray resentful thought activates my power? What if I can never perfectly control myself? What if I lose everyone—again—and I have no one to blame—again—except…myself?”
“Then I guess you lose everyone again and have no one else to blame.” Pollux releases my arms and tosses my blindfold at me. “I still care about you, Tor. I never stopped. But you’ve got to know how I feel about self-made problems.” His tone darkens. “Either become the solution…or quit whining.” He extends his hand. “Now, are we doing this? Or are you too—” he cusses, “—scared?”
As it turns out.
I’m too darn scared.
?
Still Castor
Lying awake in my own cage, shielded by thick drapes, magic, and bars, I turn the afternoon over in my mind. Polluxwas willing to risk his life for me. Pollux put his trust in a past moment between us—one I don’t even remember. Pollux believed in me, believed that if I opened my eyes to him, he’d be fine.
If I’m honest, it freaked me out.
What right does he have to still care about me that much?
After everything I’ve done… After everything I’ve put him through…
Wincing, I manifest my blindfold, settle it in place, and unwork the charms on my cage door so I can leave. Stepping silently from the many layers of fabric covering my bed, I listen to the soft breaths of my soulmate and her pixie. I let the key to her cage form between my fingers, then I deliver it quietly to her pillow before I exit our chambers.
This is going to hurt.
I know it’s going to hurt.
But I probably deserve the pain.
Traversing through trods, I make my way to the moth prince’s palace and slip through the halls until I reach his grand wall of books that opens to his secret study. It’s late. He shouldn’t still be awake in there. But I can feel him beyond the enchantments and spells meant to conceal this place. I can follow the twine of his magic to the correct book that works like a key for the door.
Tipping it forward, I listen for the latch and try not to feel like a human child being sent to their principal’s office.
I am hereby choice, because apparently I need to take accountability for my own choices.
And that starts with taking accountability for the pieces of my past I can reach.
Even if this piece is the one I have loathed the most.
With a fortifying breath, I trudge inside.
Immediately upon recognizing my lame shuffle into his study, Cael stands from his desk and spreads his wings. Magic vibrates off him, a warning. “Castor,” he states, tone immovable, belief in me long since dried up.
I dip my chin as I close the great big door behind me and lean against it. “Hey.”
A thread of unsettle works its way into the air.
