Thelittlegardenwasa simple wonder in a small alley, one that was carefully tended, with no doubt in my mind, by the baker himself. Colorful small birds, vibrant butterflies, and shimmering pixies flitted about the glowing floral vines that created a shady canopy over the stone tables and chairs beneath. Little petals fell enchantingly around us as Emon led me to the quaint spot.
Stepping in front of me, he cupped my face, peering deep into my eyes. “Has it fully passed? Is there anything you need?”
I tipped my face into him and nodded. “Yes. It has passed.” I pulled his hands gently away from my face and walked past him, allowing my shadows to drape around me as I did. Surprisingly, their comfort this time was not quite the same as being cocooned in Emon’s embrace.
There was a long pause then he spoke, his voice a soft timber at my back. “For me. They come at night. Sometimes I wake fromthese night terrors so fucking vivid it’s like I’m still there and I cannot escape. I have a hard time knowing what's real and what isn’t and when I finally pull out of it, it takes me hours to recover…to find some semblance of peace in it all.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “There are some things that not even an ancient master healer can cure.”
I was quiet, remembering the image of Emon thrashing in his sleep in the Balsam plains. The pain etched on his face while trapped in the nightmare. It was the first time where I realized Emon’s soul was just as scarred as mine.
“Mine started after Morta….” I confessed. “Sometimes it’s just a look of fear, a scream, a smell, or simply just too many fae surrounding me like yesterday in the breakfast room.”
“And today, just now?”
“The baker Drey…” I waved my hand towards the building. “He fears me. I can see the terror in his eyes when he looks at me. It’s not his fault, he is a gentle soul, but when they trigger, I am so terrified that I will recreate Morta in those moments that I spin out of control even more. That’s why isolation was the easiest way. At least then…I wasn’t around anyone I could hurt ever again.”
“The cabin. That’s why you spent so much time there.” His soft words were like a caress on the back of my neck.
I pulled the shadows closer around me despite the heat. “Did you know that the cabin was created by the goddess herself, a halfway house for fae who needed solace to heal?”
“Did you? Did you heal, little umbra?”
I shook my head and turned to face him with honesty. “I don’t know if I ever will.”
“Alright lovebirds.” Penina called out, stomping through the doorway. “You two can finish your serious as shit conversation later. I’m starving!”
Emon chuckled. “You’re always starving and always eating. I have no idea how you stay so small.”
“Calisthenics.” She winked at me and chucked a white pastry bag at my face.
I caught it with a snicker, choosing the shady side of the stone table across from her. “Cherry with cream cheese?” I peeked in the bag.
Penina snickered. “Of course. I stayed away from the chocolate spiced croissants. Didn’t want you to have a different type of meltdown.” She teased.
Emon’s brow raised when he sat next to Penina, forcing her to shift over so that he could sit directly in front of me. His knee brushed against mine underneath the table.
Four days ago I wanted to kill this shifter for touching me. Now I was starting to worry I couldn’t live in a world without him.
Goddess, who was I now?
What was I now?
The hero or the monster, the vigilante or the avenger?
Broken or more powerful than ever?
The lines blurred so much that it was a wonder I could even distinguish them before now.
“Am I supposed to take the hint that spiced chocolate is your new favorite flavor?” Emon queried seriously, looking at the two of us with a narrowed gaze.
Penina choked on her pastry.
Mortified, I looked at the gagging shifter. “Where is Xi?”
Penina’s brown eyes glittered and she pulled out a hot tea from her bag, taking a long sip. “Oh right!” She cleared her throat and then took another bite, before talking through another mouthful of butter and sugar and dough. “Tyr sent a messenger. Something about a scouting mission she was needed for.”
I frowned. “Xi has to be the worst scout in Faerie…he should know that.”
She shrugged. “That's exactly what we both said.” Still talking through the mouthful of pastry, she added. “Who knows with Tyr…he's notorious for saying one thing and then meaning something completely different—all part of the training, he says.”
