It’s a heavy burden to place on the shoulders of one woman.
“These are allthe provisions we have for the evening,” Zephyr says as he enters the tent after going to the food storage to scavenge for something. I declined, of course, but that only seemed to piss my mate off more. So I didn’t attempt to stop him when he stalked out earlier. I’ve learned it’s best to let Zephyr do what he wants when he’s in a mood like this.
Zephyr holds a half loaf of bread and two canteens of water. He tosses me one and hesitates slightly before offering the other to Evangeline. She looks at him and then the canteen, taking it from him. Their dynamic is strange, but it’s clear there is tension on both sides. Perhaps this could be a good thing. Zephyr might learn to love her. No matter how much he insists he won’t.
The bread he divides up is hard as a rock and stale, but still edible. Kind of. I take a bite, and it feels like I’m chewing on stone. What I would do for warm soup right now.
Evangeline regards the piece of bread like we’ve offered her soiled goods. That’s not too far from the truth. She brings it to her nose and sniffs, scrunching up her face before placing it down on the ground next to her cot. “I’m not hungry,” she lies easily.
“You won’t find much else to eat out here. I suggest you not be picky.” To prove his point, Zephyr takes a bite out of his bread, wincing slightly as he chews.
“Then I’ll just eat when we return to your castle,” shesays, as if that’s a real possibility. Maybe three months ago, but now our supplies are running low. At best, we have a month of food left to nourish our kingdom, but I’ve heard tales of fights breaking out over rations.
Zephyr just grunts, not bothering to entertain her any longer. Which is fine. He’s not the most welcoming, and the last thing I have time for is petty arguments he’ll start if he keeps speaking to Evangeline like she’s the enemy.
Finnick takes matters into his own hands as he dives for Evangeline’s discarded bread and chucks it right at Zephyr’s head. It makes contact, hitting him square in the forehead before falling to the floor with a dull thud.
The room is quiet.
Until both Evangeline and Finnick break out in uncontrollable giggles. Despite myself, I can’t help but smirk. Evangeline’s laughter is infectious. Zephyr shoots me a reproachful glare, but there’s no true malice behind it. At least I don’t think so. He’s hard to gauge right now.
“You’re really souring the mood, Mr. Grumpy,” Finnick says once he’s controlled his laughter. “I hope that stale bread hurt.”
“Only my pride,” he mumbles, picking up the fallen bread. He dusts off the dirt before placing it back in the basket for later. No food can go to waste, even stale bread.
A heavy silence falls over the room, thick with dread and unanswered questions. It presses down on everyone like a storm about to break. Evangeline clutches the worn blanket tighter around her shoulders, shrinking into herself, her eyes wide with unease. Shelooks fragile—out of place and out of time. Probably because she is.
“Why am I here?” she whispers, her voice barely audible, as if speaking the words aloud might solidify the nightmare around her. The question hangs in the air like smoke, dangerous and inescapable. “I made this deal to leave Grym Hollow, just like my parents always dreamed for me. We wanted to cook around the world. Try different cuisines. That’s…that’s the deal I thought I made. For an adventure, not…this.”
It appears Ender wasn’t forthcoming with my human.
She speaks of her parents in the past tense and with longing. It’s clear they are no longer with us. This human—Evangeline—is completely alone. Is that what Ender preys on? The women who have nothing else? Feel so desperate, they have no choice but to take his bargain and ask no questions?
She will never be alone again, not with us as her family. It’s a promise I intend to keep until my last breath. Evangeline is here now, just as I asked. I need her to save my kingdom, as humans have done for the other kings before me. And in return, I will make certain she is never left to face this world on her own.
“You’re here because we are to be married. I need you, Evangeline. My kingdom is at war.” There’s no point in sugarcoating it. She’s seen it with her own eyes. This is her life, and no matter how much she wishes it wasn’t, she can’t go back.
Still, she looks confused. Her gaze moves between Zephyr and me, taking note of our close proximity, thefamiliarity that comes when you give another your whole heart. “I don’t understand,” she says at last. “You’re already married.”
My brows draw together. “And?”
“And,” she blushes as she fidgets with her hands, “just that! You’re married. To each other. I’m not breaking up a marriage.”
Zephyr snorts, and I elbow him in the side. I need him to not be a dick for just a moment while I try to explain our way of life to the human. It’s clear that, where she came from, monogamy was the standard. “I don’t plan to unbind myself from Zephyr. He’s my husband. It’s not uncommon to be bound and mated to several people.”
Evangeline’s eyes widen. “You mean…like polyamory? Ender mentioned that… I guess I didn’t fully comprehend what that meant.”
“Precisely.” I nod.
“So, I would be married to both of you?” I can’t help but notice the way her gaze drifts to Zephyr. Is that longing in her expression?
Before I can answer, Zephyr beats me to it. “You will be married to Niko and Niko alone. Niko and I’ve discussed this. I have no plans to marry you, Evangeline.”
His voice is gentle, but the weight of his words lands like a blow. Evangeline flinches, visibly recoiling from the sting of his rejection. This subject has always been a fault line between Zephyr and me. I want to share Evangeline with him, to forge something unbreakable between the three of us—a mating bond. But Zephyr refuses, steadfast and unmoving in his decision.
I know his past haunts him, that it colors everything he sees. But we are not his parents. Their mistakes are not ours to repeat. I’ve told him this again and again, but the words never seem to reach him.
Still, each time I push, I feel him withdraw just a little more, like he’s building a wall I may never be able to climb. And that’s what I fear most: one day, he’ll stop letting me in.
