It was too much. I couldn’t do this. Icouldn’tfucking do this. People kept talking, aromas wafted in through the window, my muscles burned, and I could barely think. The intense need to see Zoltilvoxfyn overwhelmed me.
I gripped my head, claws pricking and sending blood dripping down my cheeks. “Make it stop!” I screamed, writhing on the floor. “Make it stop!” This voice wasn’t my own. I hated it. I hated it all. I screamed a wordless shriek.
Something pricked my arm and everything dimmed to a distant murmur that was more manageable. Tinlorray leaned over me, her long hair brushing my cheek, which made me flinch.
“Please,” I begged. “I need Zoltilvoxfyn. Please.”
Her brow furrowed. “It’ll be alright, Yolkeltod.”
“I’m not Yolkeltod. My name is Caleb. Caleb Smith.” My name was a garbled growl that the drakcol vocal cords struggled to make.
Tinlorray’s eyes went wide.
“Please. Tell Zoltilvoxfyn I’m here. I didn’t fade. I’m here.” Darkness started to crowd my vision. “Sunshine,” I breathed before everything vanished.
“You have to understand,” I said for the millionth time, “I’m not Yolkeltod. My name is Caleb Smith. I was a ghost from Earth, and somehow got stuck in this body.”
Doctors Maklownil and Dak sat in front of me on metal stools. It had been… I didn’t even know how long. Keeping track of the time was difficult, but I thought it had been a couple of weeks since I’d woken up. I’d been moved from the airy room I’d first woken up in to a locked ward almost instantly. I was getting treatments for the atrophied muscles to stimulate growth in this borrowed body. The wings and the tail, I had no idea what to do with. Also, I wasn’t used to being so tall or broad. Yolkeltod’s body towered over people compared to my old one.
“Yolkeltod, we understand this has been a trying time, but clearly, you’re not a human spirit,” Dr. Dak said, pushing her chin-length hair behind her tapered ear adorned with several bronze studs. She was new. A therapist.
Maklownil, Yolkeltod’s original medical doctor, watched me, a bony hand on his chin. He was more pensive than usual. “You say you spent time with Prince Zoltilvoxfyn?”
Dak glared at him, grass-green tail flicking. She hated him indulging me.
“Yes,” I snapped, then flinched from my voice. It was so deep. I wasn’t used to it, and every time I spoke I cringed. This wasn’tmyvoice; it belonged to a stranger. “Tell him I’m here. He’ll come for me. Zoltilvoxfyn will always come for me.”
He gave me a kind smile, but I knew what lay behind that look—disbelief. No one would tell Fyn I was here. I’d begged Tinlorray, multiple times, to help me. She always said she was. She didn’t believe I wasn’t her brother, though I didn’t act the same as Yolkeltod had nor could I answer her questions about his life.
Deep within me was an intense longing. I had no words for it. The need to see Fyn was overwhelming. At times, I thought I would go mad from the itch that never vanished.
I had to get out. I had to see him. He wasmine. Allmine.
I blinked at the claiming thought. I’d become more aggressive, and odd instincts, like to growl or spread my wings, reared up at the weirdest times. I had no idea what to do with them, besides hope they’d disappear. But this need for Zoltilvoxfyn wouldn’t fade. He was mine, and I wouldn’t let anyone separate us.
My wings flared, spanning the cell, and my tail lashed. Both of the doctors pulled back. My wings refused to curl up, and my tail wouldn't stop slashing; all the while, a rumble started to form in my chest that refused to be silenced. I couldn’t get this damn body to respond.
How the hell did drakcol do this?
“Ineedhim,” I snarled. “He’s mine!”
“You touched the Crystal in your dream, correct?” Dak asked, smoothing her black pants while her tail wiggled rapidly.
I’d told her this, both of them this, hundreds of times. “Yes.”
“Perhaps you believe in your addled state that you are Prince Zoltilvoxfyn’s mate.”
“I am his mate,” I yelled, standing, though my knees threatened to give out. My tail slapped the bed’s leg, and I hissed from the sting. The damn thing was beyond sensitive, and every time it moved, it sent fire up my spine. “No one will take him from me.”
Her claws clicked on the tablet as she made more notes.
Maklownil tapped his finger on his chin.
Neither of them said anything of value for the rest of the session; all they did was ask the same damn questions while my all-consuming desire for Zoltilvoxfyn raged inside of me. Alongside it was worry. Fyn had to be freaking out. I had to get back to him. Now.
Chapter 40
Please believe me.
