I open one eye, watching our other mates for a moment before starting the hard part. The lounger is still murmuring under his breath, doing what he can to help me. It makes my lips curve up when I realize that when I’m connected to her magick, I can see their auras, hear some of their thoughts, feel their fear, and touch their hearts without trying. Every little nuance of them is curling out to me like tendrils of smoke, and as I touch them, I tap into the stream of energy or emotion.
Interestingly, I see one snaking out of the bed by the fireplace where Aradia’s snoozing away.
That’s how her Beast speaks with the tiger.
My eyes dart to the window, and I see movement from the garden. This must be what she sees every day, all day long. All of nature, everyone she meets… reaching out to her magick and connecting her into their universe.
Talk about overload.
She must have the strongest shields this side of the bloody universe.
Christ, that’s what the bloody doors are for!
That atrium is her soul flame, and everything around it is a door to parts of her, from powers to memories. It’s her mind palace—that explains everything.
Shaking my head, I go back to generating heat to my fingertips like she does, hoping to start by healing the wound from the inside out. The minx is drinking fiercely now, and that can only help. I knit together strands and cells and pieces, coating the work with a blanket of her magick. As every bit joins and pinksup inside, I slog my way through, remembering she wants the scar as a reminder.
I hate that, and I hate that the stoat does it too.
Both of them need to let us heal them, love them, and let go of the past. I sigh, realizing that I need to do the same, so I send love and forgiveness to both of my mates along their connections. I can’t get angry at my primary for allowing my powerful, stubborn wife to do something that she couldn’t have stopped or predicted if she’d wanted to. My acceptance seems to cause a surge of energy to flow through us all, making even my mates reel a bit.
Jesus, that’s potent.
It looks like they agree because they seem to try not to lose focus as they deal with it.
~You’re doing so well, baby. It’s almost there. I feel you learning. ~
She’s not kidding about that, but I’m relieved to hear her voice again. I’ve drained my wife and taken her soul so far into mine they melded, and yet I didn’t have a clue how deeply she feels all of her surroundings day to day, minute to minute.
I’ll not forget.
I lay my palm on her chest after I heal the last of her wounds and look over at my mates. I send them both another apology—Talia, for overreacting and Rafe, for not seeing everything in him I see now. I let go of their power and allow my connection to my wife to lessen to a normal level.
“There you go, heart of mine. All better now.”
Her eyes open, and the smile she gives us warms me from head to toe. “Thank you, baby. Thank all of you. You were wonderful.” She reaches her hand out, and I take it, squeezing it.
It doesn’t last, though, because as she reaches out to her newest mate, her brow furrows. Talia slipped away while I focused on my wife and mate, headed out to make herself some scars of her own.
Damn it.
”What-what did I do wrong? I wanted to thank her. I wanted...”
My wife’s eyes well with fat tears, and I curse silently at my primary for upsetting her so soon after the healing. I know what she needs and why, but she always thinks about what’s good for everyone. “Shh, love, don’t cry. I’m sure it’s all right.”
The newly-healed minx’s eyes dart from me to her primary as we both try to contact or infiltrate Talia’s mind, finding out what’s going on, where she’s going, what to do to fix this. I sigh as I find the info rather than asking for it as the long hair’s doing.
“Shit. Talia still blames herself, pushing you to hurt yourself for her. You almost died because of her, and she’s having a mighty hard time living with that, love. She couldn’t heal you. She’s in pain and wants to scar herself because of this. She’s looking to hurt herself; it’s not pretty.”
“I tried telling her it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know it was bad. I don’t want her to do that. I keep saying things and no one listens!”
“I can’t feel her anymore, so I can’t find her,” I say, rubbing my hand over my face.
Damn that bloody place she goes to hell.
“I can,” my wife whispers. “I know where she is, so use my head to get us there.”
I look at her, then at Rafe, who shrugs. “She’s been there. I used her magick there; it’s like a homing beacon.”
