“Seth, that’s amazing. Congratulations. Wow.” He blinks owlishly and then awkwardly sticks out his hand for a handshake. I glance down at it and frown, but take it, wrapping my hand firmly around his before yanking on him and pulling him over the counter into a bear hug.
Oliver squeaks and stiffens up for a second before he snorts and returns the hug, grumbling good-humoredly about how it’s unsanitary to manhandle people over the service counter.
As we pull apart, I rub the back of my neck and ask, “Do you have a minute to come over and say hi? She’s uh, she hasn’t met any of my friends yet. And technically I’ve only met her evil sister in passing, so…” I squint as I realize how similar Ryn and I are in that way—both work-focused loners, despite longing for connection. Well, before this past year, anyway. I’ve finally given myself permission to let people in. Ryn is still working on that part, but I’d say giving her soul to me is a hell of a start.
Oliver looks a little shell-shocked, but also a little misty-eyed, and I watch that watery sheen dubiously, once again hoping he doesn’t start crying. I feel like I’ve been pretty obvious about considering him a friend before now, but maybe hearing it out loud somehow triggered his squishy-squonk sensitive side. I’m all for displays of emotion, as long as they don’t involve tears that make my clothes look like a teenager's jizz-sock.
“I,” Oliver clears his throat and tries again, “I’d love to.”
“Hell yeah!” I glance over toward Ryn and smile fondly at the sour look on her face. I can tell through our bond that she’s not actually in a bad mood, just caffeine-deficient and peckish. “For safety reasons, we’re gonna wanna bring a large vanilla chai latte with us.” I glance at the display counter and add, “and probably one of those crème brûlée danishes, too.”
Oliver looks toward Ryn and his eyes widen comically before he cringes slightly, nodding as he agrees, “Good thinking. You want your usual?”
I shrug and nod as Ollie makes his way behind the counter (the boring, non-counter-jumping way).
“You go ahead on over with your girl, I’m gonna take care of the order and grab Charlotte from the back to tend the counter. I’ll be over in a few.” Oliver smiles nervously over at Ryn before he ducks into the back, and I snicker. To be fair to Ollie, Ryn can be pretty intimidating.
Our eyes meet as I make my way back over to her, and I melt as hers soften. Gods, I hope I never get used to these feelings. Everything about the way she makes me feel is so vivacious—the total oppositeof the monotonous tedium I feared would define my life. Instead, I’m the lucky bastard who gets to be defined by her—by our love and the life we create together. That vacuum of time will now be filled with motes of us, and I’ve never felt more full.
“Did you—”
“Yes, love. Your caffeine and munchies are on their way.” I take the seat next to her, but quickly scoot my chair closer so I can drape my arm around her shoulders while we wait.
She doesn’t say anything else, just leans into me and lets her head rest against my chin. Smiling to myself, I nuzzle into her hair and kiss the top of her head. I can feel my contentment mirrored back at me through our bond, and that giddy feeling I only get around her threatens to choke me. Luckily, I’m partial to a bit of light choking.
22
MOON!
Ryn
I’m starting to doubt if I’ll ever shake the feeling that I’m holding my breath, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Despite how amazing everything has been with Seth, and it has been amazing, I still feel so unsettled.
It’s been two weeks, and I’ve heard absolutely nothing from Darro. I didn’t really expect him to have enough consideration to keep me in the loop, but not knowing anything about his progress—or even if there has been any progress, is driving me insane.
I’m pretty sure Seth has been using sex as a distractionary technique, and I can’t say that I mind all that much. But eventually, the quiet seeps in and infiltrates my mind, fueling my anxiety with increasingly nightmarish scenarios. Even with Seth practically living with me at this point—he can’t be with me all the time, and the insidious doubts that ride in on the coattails of those quiet moments manage to find me, and hold me down with a near-paralyzing fear. Myversion of a sleep paralysis demon, except I don’t have to be sleeping for it to find me.
My phone chimes and I jump, clutching my necklace where it’s warming against my skin in a telltale sign that my psychopomp is checking in from afar. I rub a hand over my face and gently stroke the necklace in reassurance before pulling my phone out from between my thigh and the lounger I’ve been pretending to read in for the past hour.
Seth: I can feel you brooding from here, babe. My PO is going to think I’m constipated. Seriously, look!
I laugh at the adorable picture of his ridiculous face scrunched up in a pucker like he’s just marathon sucked on lemons, and type back a quick response.
Ryn: Just tell him the edible lemon meringue panties you licked off of me before leaving home were heavy on the lemon.
Seth: Preeeeetty sure he’d ding me on the “no soul harvesting while on probation” thing, mate or not. Soul-bonding with you technically violated my parole.
I groan inwardly and pinch the bridge of my nose. Fuck. Iknowhe’s joking, but also, what if they actuallydohold that against him? Oh gods. My anxiety flares, and my heart races as the room spins.
Just as quickly, shadows shoot out of the necklace, wrapping around me and squeezing with just enough proprioceptive input to trick my nervous system into cooperation, and I sag into their hold.Working on my breathing, I wait until the spinning stops and my heart rate evens out before whispering, “moon.”
At the use of my safe-word, Seth’s shadows slowly release me and absorb back into my necklace. Tears fill my eyes as I pick up my phone, knowing he’ll have messaged me again.
Seth: Fuck, I’m sorry, love. I shouldn’t have joked about it. Seriously, Hellas can be a prick, but he’s not a heartless prick. Mates are super fucking rare for us. There’s zero chance I’ll get reprimanded in any real way because I was stupidly fucking lucky enough to soul-bond with you.
My stomach flutters, but for the first time all day, not with nerves. Most of my life has felt like either punishment or retribution. With Seth, for the first time, life feels like maybe I can just be ‘Ryn’, without having to let where I come from or what Iaminfluence my life more than my own desires as a person.
I like to give off unapologetic vibes, but the truth is, before Seth, my entire existence felt like a forced apology. I was ashamed ofsomany things—for being born Unseelie, and a necromancer. For disappointing my family, despite having no genuine affection for them. For taking up space in the places where ‘good’ paranormals exist. Hell, even for actually following my ambitions with the Lazarus project, because a part of me felt like maybe people thought it was all just performative. I’ve certainly felt like an imposter every step of the way, feigning confidence when I had no clue if all of my theories would have merit in real-life application. Wouldn’t that have made the naysayers right, at least partially?
