Page 36 of Corvus and the Broken God

After how badly I had been treated by people who I had worked under for years, my hurt feelings toward my Monster seemed insignificant. He didn’t want me to get any ideas he couldn’t live up to. I could respect that, even if it didn’t feel great. I wanted to get back to where we were before that lunch. Hopefully, he did too. I would just need to figure out how to get my thoughts in order—to stop wanting things I couldn’t have.

After spending the rest of the day replacing the rotting boards on the old porch, I flew back, my muscles tired but in the best way. I landed on the roof and tested our bond. It told me he was in his room like always, so I flew in through an open window and transformed in the den. Naked, I walked to my room, not even pausing to do more than glance at his closed door.

Clothed and starving from a day’s worth of hard work, I headed to the kitchen. Another stew bubbled away on the stove. I hadn’t seen him prepare it but wouldn’t assume he had made it just for me. I grabbed a bowl and spoon and served myself a hearty portion. It tasted a little gamey but was otherwise delicious, with perfectly cooked carrots and potatoes and some spice or herb I couldn’t quite place. No, I wouldn’t move to the cabin. It was nice to have him here, even if I never saw him. But I could keep my pulse on the world from there and use the repairs to clear my head.

I washed and dried my bowl and spoon, put them back in their spots on the main shelf, and poured myself a glass of cold mountain water from the tap. When I walked back to my room, planning on spending the evening reading up on Mayan history, I noticed his door was open. I took a few steps and stopped. Was this an invitation?

I leaned in to take a look and then knocked lightly. There was no answer, but the door opened under my soft touch. I looked around, half expecting to get yelled at for walking too loudly. Not that he had ever yelled at me before. The room was empty, and the French doors leading to the inner courtyard stood wide open. I stepped hesitantly across the room, drawn to this private space I had yet to discover.

He was probably out flying, except my inner tug told me he was closer than that. I followed it outside. A narrow path led to the left, winding through the thick wood. The trees and undergrowth thinned out, opening into a clearing. Tucked between the trees was a pool of water, bubbling gently like the one in the cavern beneath the house. Plumes of mist rose from the water's warm surface into the cool evening air.

On the far edge of the pool, lounging against its sloped stone edge, was my Monster. His body was half-submerged, half-reclined, head thrown back against the ledge behind him. He gazed up at the stars. Feeling my eyes on him, he lifted his head.

We stared at each other for a long moment, and neither spoke. Was I imposing? Had I misinterpreted the open door as an invitation? Had he left it open by accident? Or had the wind blown it open?

Join me, Corvus. He put his head back and shut his eyes.

I didn’t think or hesitate, pulling my dress over my head. Clothed only in my bra and panties, I stepped in. Warm water lapped at my ankles, and I waded deeper. He didn’t look at me until I was almost submerged, but the pull between us tugged harder now. He wanted me there with him. And there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

I gave in to its lure, heading toward him.

Then I remembered how he cut me off at the diner. I veered to the side and looked for a place to sit not too close to him. The granite edges of the pool had been worn down over centuries. They were rounded and smooth. I moved closer, my toe hitting the hard stone. Bending down, I felt my way in the dark water. A natural ledge ran along the edge. I pulled and twisted my body up onto it. The waterline sat just below my breasts, my skin pebbling in the cool night air. The water was hot enough that the cool air felt refreshing.

I looked over at my Monster. He hadn’t moved, still reclined, and I copied his position. The clear night sky opened above us, velvet black, frosted with sparkling diamonds. We were far from the nearest city, and I hadn’t seen so many stars since leaving home.

I breathed in and out, simply existing.

Your thoughts are quieter than usual.

He was right. Working with my hands all day was the best way to soothe my frantic mind. And now that we had reconciled, I was content.

I waved my hands back and forth in the warm water. A few bubbles made their way to the surface, popping silently. The night was quiet; no birds, bats, or insects interrupted our peace with their song.

Do you enjoy the work you are doing on the house?

Yes. Very much.

He sat perfectly still, his body like the stone behind him. I turned slightly to study his chiseled form.

Are the horns difficult to carry? They look heavy.

He tilted his head toward me, showing off the thick, ropy muscles on his neck. Wow.

I leaned back and fixed my attention on the sky, clearing my brain of extraneous thoughts. It was nice, just sharing space, with no emotional exchanges. Maybe we were finally learning how to co-exist.

She was nothing like you.

Who? I didn’t bother looking over. There was no need when he could sense my eagerness for his answer.

“The woman who had your room previously.” His voice broke through the silence of the night, ringing out loud and deep.

I turned my head. He had my full attention.

“Why did she leave?”

He was quiet for a few moments, considering his response.

“I had withdrawn more and more from the world’s stage until I had lost all interest in the machinations of man. She is a butterfly, someone unlike you, who believes in and craves the adoration of others.”