Given my thoughts now and what I’ve done, I’m not sure how right or wrong you are about that anymore, Starlight.
PART THREE
Garnet
POMEGRANATE STONE
Garnet comes in many different forms, making it an amazing stone of beautiful abundance. Gleaming with a dark red luster, there are multiple styles of garnet, each with its own healing properties.
Garnet comes with a thousand stories to its name. The Latin word for “pomegranate” is “Granatum,” and one glance at these bright red stones harkens to how these jewels got their name from the story of Persephone, Hades, and the red fruit that forged the rise and fall of the seasons. Because of the tale, Garnet has become a stone of courage and a symbol of positive thinking. It was said to have been the only light on Noah’s Ark, marking it as a hope of an olive branch waiting at the end of a great struggle. This stone is a talisman for travelers looking to find their wayin the world. Garnet is a stone of commitment for those seeking a helping hand with relationships. It is adept at clearing out negative energies and keeping you safe and steady on your feet. Garnet is less likely to slip into traps of self-doubt, jealousy, and all those traits that can get in the way of forging a close-knit bond with your loved one. The rich colors and warming glow make it a highly uplifting stone, so you cannot help but feel supported and nurtured by its deep healing properties. For times when you may feel the need to be balanced out, you can keep the stone close by as it ensures that your self-esteem is high enough to make healthy choices and that you approach life from a positive point of view. When you are lost with a feeling of crisis, Garnet talks you down from the existential and emotional ledge. It kicks off your survival instinct, ensuring you are at your best and equipped to handle everything, no matter what trouble is brewing. This crystal is ever ready to illuminate the way, inviting you to always feel the glow of your inner warmth.
Butterfly Weed
BYRD
Adoor slammed hard enough to rattle my bones under my skin.
“Wakey, wakey, Byrdie-pie!” Lilah sang out, her voice too high and loud for the size of wherever we were and for my skull, which pounded to its own rhythm like it had a heartbeat.
Waking up to this living nightmare every time was definitely my least favorite part. I didn’t dream, and my sleep was far from restful. Yet, I wasn’t in pain when I was unconscious. If I were awake, the pain I felt from everything was already there. It hurt in a way I couldn’t ignore, but it was familiar and present enough that I could at least adapt to it. When I woke up to it, though, it all flooded back like someone had restarted me. Not only did it return in a drowning tide, but it was always worse than it was before. Breathing felt like I had swallowed razor blades. My mouth tasted like rust and continued to get sharper and fouler as time went on. The burning and acidic stinging of my wounds had flared out to be all over my skin, making lifting a finger or readjusting a living hell. My headaches now throbbed so badly that I felt I was going blind when I first stirred each time. I was so ashen, my scales as dry as my throat. Despite feeling how much lighter I was from weight loss, there was a weight in mybody that made it feel disconnected from me. Moving felt like I was treading through wet sand. It felt impossible.
Everythingfelt impossible.
Even before I attempted to open my eyes, I could sense that we had moved locations again. The smell hit me first. Mildew, thick and musty, the kind that clung to everything it came in contact with, overpowered the sour stench of old sweat, cigarette smoke, and whatever air freshener had died ages ago trying to cover it all up. When I did finally pry my eyes open, I had to squint against a flickering ceiling light that made everything look sickly and grim. We were clearly in some old motel, a place that had been festering for quite some time. The ceiling was stained with water damage, the brown splotches shaped like rotting continents above me. The motel room was small, with barely enough room for two double beds, a shared nightstand, and a dresser with a TV sitting on top of it that was playing some reruns of some reality show. The walls were that hideous motel beige, made worse by the peeling floral wallpaper that had given up the will to live sometime last century. The old faded curtains were drawn without any light filtering in at the edges. It must be nighttime. The radiator struggled to push heat into the room, despite its dial being turned all the way to hot. Cold lingered, just enough to nip at my toes. Wherever we were, there was likely still snow outside. At least, it was still cold. I didn’t hear any cars outside the door or windows. There were no voices or movement from the hallway. So, we were likely either in a secluded part of the motel far from the road, or the motel itself was in the middle of nowhere.
Great. Love that for me.
I was sitting up in a bed, with my wrists tied on either side of me to the headboard and my ankles tied together in front of me. My wings and tail were still bound, too, with bands of Lilah’s blood magic. The mattress was lumpy, and the sheets on topwere thin, so the springs poked into my thighs like angry little reminders that comfort was for other people, but not me. Not that I would have found any solace here anyway. I could only imagine how rough and gritty the sheets were, like no one had bothered to wash them since the last guest, or maybe even the one before that. I tried to still my shiver of disgust.
On the bed next to mine sat Cooper. He had changed his clothes since we were in the cabin, now wearing jeans and a long-sleeve shirt with boots. Solemn yet calculated as ever, he was cleaning his gun meticulously. A kit of tools was open in front of him, and he methodically grabbed each utensil and cleaned each part of the gun. I wasn’t sure how he was able to do it with the tendrils of dark red magic still swirling around it, but he seemed to manage with steady, practiced movements. He didn’t look at me or say a word to acknowledge my presence. It was like I wasn’t even there.
I didn’t even bother clearing my throat. There was no point with how raw and dry it was already. “Wow, you guys put me in a bed this time. What did I do to be so spoiled?”
Lilah smiled widely like the Cheshire Cat, showing off her too-white, too-straight teeth. I think her madness could give him a run for his money. “Someone has jokes today. I do love it when you are in a good mood. Coopie and I figured you could use a little change.”
My eyes glanced over at Cooper, wiping the barrel of his gun, before returning my gaze to Lilah. “One, I doubt he cared. But two, that is aterriblenickname.”
“Oh, and pumpkin and Starlight are so great?”
“Well, objectively, yeah. Especially since they don’t rhyme withpoopie. I mean, unless you were going for calling him shit. Then, I would agree with you.”
I heard the gun clip click into place next to me. I ignored it, deciding not to give him the attention he wanted.Two can play that game, Shithead.
Lilah rounded the bed to sit right next to me on it. The bed creaked loudly under her weight. Smile still present on her face, she said, “Did you know it’s been almost two weeks, ladybug? Isn’t that wild?”
Two weeks?! My eyes widened. How had it beenthatlong? I mean, I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised. Given how I didn’t know where we were or what time it was when I would wake up, it was no wonder that time had flown.
But still.
“Aren’t you getting tired of these games, girlie-pop?”
“Aren’t you?” I met her eyes unflinchingly.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to tell me what I want?”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just let me go? I can literally do this all day. It’s not like I have somewhere I’m supposed to be.”
Lilah leveled me with a hard look. “You know, I don’t think you are taking things seriously, Byrdie-pie. I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation that you are in. You have lost a lot of blood, baby girl. You are a shifter, so that has kept you alive so far, but even that has its limitations. You aren’t getting any stronger. Without your mate and your dragon, you won’t last much longer. You have maybe a day or two. Maybe 72 hours at the most before you succumb to your injuries and my magic. Honestly, it’s a wonder you have lasted this long. Regardless, if you don’t give up your parents’ enchantment, you’re going to die, Byrdie.”
