heated pool with a strained smile. It hadn’t been three hours since being out of close proximity to the Kinetic Princess before the whispers of my affliction began to call. It started with an itch beneath the skin, a restless yearning for oblivion. At first, I panicked, but I did my best to enjoy the company of my friends as they celebrated my return to the Hollow.
Princess Gray chose to stay in her room, which was on the opposite end of the vast lodge. I couldn’t blame her for it. She had a lot to process, and socializing had never really been her thing—much less with people she’d been raised to kill at all costs. It would take her time to deconstruct her father’s programming about the world and herself. She especially needed to come to terms with the many hard truths she’d just faced.
My eyes landed on an Elemental man on the opposite side of the pool. His eyes were haunted, but a lightness spread in my chest at the sight of the slave I’d freed from the scorse the night I’d fought in the cage. A small smile pulled at the edges of my mouth, knowing Dash had followed through and helped guide him home.
Onyx’s loud laughter rang out as he jumped out of the hot tub and began scaling the backside of the lodge to the roof. He was already drunk and determined to prove himself with River’s dare.
“Triple backflip! Off the roof! And into the pool! Watch me, River. One of these days you’ll stop betting against me,” he said with a grunt as he pulled himself upright on the edge of the roof, turning his back to us.
As much as I wanted to stick around and watch Onyx eat shit, I needed to get the fuck out of here. The claws of madness brought on the echoes of that dreaded cackle. I didn’t need to be around the others for that. Just as Onyx counted to three, I bolted out of the hot tub while all eyes were on him, making a quick escape back inside the lodge. I sought out the bar that had once been a vacated basement, grabbed two bottles of rum, then rushed to my room, where I strove for solace in my violin.
My bow glided across the strings of my violin in seamless, sharp strokes. I didn’t have to think. The notes were second nature to me, allowing me to fall into the melody and get lost in the haunting and riveting tune that mirrored my emotions.
I downed several shots of rum in fast succession, hoping to get ahead of the impending decline of my mental state. By the time I was halfway through the first song, my panic morphed into hopelessness that transferred into the music.
I’d foolishly tricked myself into thinking I’d escaped the darkness that ravaged me. I’d dealt with it for years now, but after healing when I arrived at the Hollow, it seemed to settle, allowing me to build real relationships and trust with those around me for the first time in my life. But in recent months, the affliction decided that enough was enough and began to expedite my fall into madness. It wanted me wholly in its grasp, and it was tired of waiting around.
Then came Gray, and her nearness seemed to lock the entity away, freeing me from my internal suffering. I didn’t realize I needed to remain in close proximity to her as I had when we had been traveling. Like a dumbass, I’d hoped that just having her here at the Hollow and on the premises would be enough to keep the affliction at bay. However, on my first night back and on the opposite side of the lodge as her, the darkness crept back into my periphery, offering taunts of my impending downfall.
It would be easy to go to Gray’s room with any excuse to be near her, but I refused. This wasn’t her battle nor her responsibility, so I rejected the idea of thrusting this burden onto her shoulders on top of everything else. No, I’d find a way to handle my shit. At least until we stopped Forest—ideally with his death.
High notes soared with an ever-present quiver that sounded as if it were seconds away from breaking apart altogether. It paralleled my high moments during my mania, living off the thirst for violence. And just when it seemed the notes would falter and give way, they dropped to the lowest of lows, flowing into the minor notes that captured the sense of my depressive state that trailed closely behind my unhinged madness.
A distant knock sounded at my door, but I didn’t dare pull myself from the music’s embrace. My despair poured into the room with a forlorn heart, exposing my pain for all to see if they looked close enough. I wouldn’t hide that. Not that I would offer it up unprompted, but my room was my safe space, and I wasn’t apologetic for my very mortal emotions—regardless of the fact I was a leader.
The knock sounded again, this time harder than the last. Without missing a note, I unlocked the door with my element, allowing whoever was on the other side entrance. In my peripheral, the door opened slowly as if whoever entered approached with caution.
I expected to see dark hair flecked with stars. Instead of Onyx, I was greeted by Kodiak’s hulking frame. I glanced at him, not stopping the song until it fell from its crescendo to its finish. I rested the violin and bow in my lap, already feeling the itch return. I ignored it and offered a forced smile to my friend. My head swam for a moment from the rum, so I closed my eyes for a moment to adjust.
“Kodiak,” I greeted in a tone chippier than I felt. “To what do I owe you, my friend?”
Kodiak’s size made my expansive suite feel cramped. All muscle and height, he was huge. But his heart was just as big as his brain. Out of all of us, he was the softest and most caring.
“Just came by to check on you,” Kodiak said, his voice a deep timber. “Did something happen in the pool?”
I waved him off with false assurance. He always was one to note the small things in others. “No, nothing at all. Just craved the quietude and my violin after that shitty mission. Nothing to worry about.”
Kodiak noted the bottle of rum that was a quarter low with a head dip. “Mind if I get a shot? Despite the fact it’s not vodka,” he asked with a wry grin.
I poured us each a shot, handing one to him. “To your safe return. Good to have you back, Prince.” We tapped our glasses and downed them, the warmth spreading across my chest like a blanket.
I cleared my throat. “Tell me why you’re really here, Kodiak. Did Orion send you? Or Onyx?”
Kodiak frowned, looking perplexed. “No,” he responded. “I don’t know what bothers you; that is your business. But I figured you didn’t need to suffer alone.” He wore a genuine expression of empathy, his eyes matching the warmth of his deep bronze skin beneath the gold layer. “I’m just here as your friend.”
I wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol consumption or the fact that I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to share these moments with those closest to me in this way, but my throat tightened, and tears threatened to fill my eyes. I clenched my jaw to fight it. “Thank you,” I whispered, dropping my head.
Kodiak rested a hand on my shoulder, offering his support. “So, the princess…” he hedged, prompting me to elaborate.
My shoulders shook from my chuckle. “What do you think of her?”
My friend removed his hand. Moving the desk chair in front of my bed, he took a seat. “She’s…interesting. But I believe she’ll be a great asset and, one day, a strong leader.”
Relief flooded my chest at his approval because, at some point, she’d be the sole leader of my people. It was important she had their support, considering she fled from a kingdom of those who sought her demise. “I think she will, too.”
“I’ve looked forward to the day we had both of you here since I was a child. Many of us have. Our stolen heirs. Finally home. I just hate the damage that’s been done in the meantime.”
I nodded. “As do I. But your support means the world. She’ll need your kindness to get acclimated so we can build a foundation of trust between her and our people.”
Kodiak smiled, the dark beard lining his jaw highlighting his white teeth. “It’ll be my honor.” Scrunching his face, he reached for the bottle of rum, but his distaste didn’t hinder him from pouring another shot. “I don’t know how you drink this,” he muttered as he threw back the light amber liquid, then shook his head.
“Vodka might as well be rubbing alcohol,” I said, wincing.
“You never tasted the kind that came from my lineage. It was refined and smooth. What I’d do to get my hands on it again,” he said wistfully. After a second, he nodded to the violin still perched in my lap. “Don’t let me stop you. I can sit, drink, and enjoy your music.”
I ran my fingertips over the neck of my instrument, appreciating the smooth texture that always helped ground me. With a nod, I picked it and the bow back up, beginning another mournful melody. This one represented my acceptance of the losses I was doomed to suffer after finally finding true acceptance and love.