Baz
I was a frayed rope, its fibers slowly unraveling. Like a cord wrapped around my soul, compressing around it, though it barely seemed to hold itself together. Calloused from all the hurt I’d caused, I felt like my grip on life was slowly slipping away.
Mammon. That’s what the beast had called himself. A cruel and wicked oppressor that had taken away my ability to think on my own, trapping me in a prison of my own thoughts and emotions. I could feel his presence, although he was never actually in the room with me; it was only his words creeping into the depths of my subconscious and eating away at me like an insect burrowing through wood. He made sure I knew there was no escape - all I could do was tremble as he dangled the key just outside of the prison walls, taunting me. Wanting me to come out and play.
But I didn’t.
It’s a kind of anguish that I’d truly never experienced before, watching from the darkest recesses of my mind as he—myself—slowly licked and savored the blood dripping from Drea’s breasts. The guilt and shame were overwhelming, tormenting me every time I noticed her enjoying my tongue against her skin. This was not who I wanted to be and yet here I was; standing by, feeling helpless to intervene, as he does what he wishes with her body. Despite my best efforts to slip into the deeper echoes of my mind to escape this horror, he wouldn’t let me. He had his claws in my mind, keeping me from disappearing completely.
Forcing me to watch this disgusting display.
Because it’s fun for him to torment me.
I wondered if this was how he’d felt while I’d suppressed his desires for years. Perhaps this was his payback.
The hold on my physical body didn’t falter, either. Mammon flicked his tongue over the curve of her collarbone, lapping up her blood like a dog. And I knew I was completely useless against him because I had no control over how my body reacted.
He was attracted to her, and the tightness against my pants proved it. She hummed in our ear, a sensual sound that had us opening our mouth in ecstasy.
Drea dug her nails into the skin on our back, and the slight tingle of pain had us panting.
“I only wish to serve you,” we said, pulling her closer. We nipped at her ear. “Let me please you.”
The goddess laughed cruelly, shoving us back with a palm against our bare chest. “As much as I would love to enjoy myself, I am far too busy.”
We pouted our lips, and Drea ran a finger over it. “Stop that, beastie.”
Our teeth snapped at her finger, but she was quick. She jumped back, snapping her fingers. Metal bracelets crackle on our wrists, yanking us back against the cold, damp wall.
“Naughty,” she cooed, but her voice was like ice. “Be a good little beastie, and I’ll bring you back a bone to gnaw on.”
We were her pet. Nothing more than those vicious hell hounds she’s so fond of. But we didn’t mind. Her attention—her blood—is enough to satiate our lust.
For now.
But we are greedy.
Forever hungry.
Never full.
But a single drop of the dark magick pumping through her veins was worth more than draining an entire feyrie of theirs. We felt the tingle of it coursing through our bloodstream like a fine wine. It elevated us to a new world. With it, we could do anything. Be anyone.
And we shifted, cracking every bone in our body and contorted into a small, framed girl with raven hair. The metal cuffs just slid right off then, and we cocked our head at the beautiful goddess.
“I want to play,” we said. Wanted to toy with the human woman.
She nodded. “Fine, but don’t kill her. I still need her alive.” Her fingers snapped, and she disappeared into dust.
We cackled, our voice soft, feline, and familiar. Almost enough to stir something in our chest.
Almost.
Rhen
Elm cautiously hoisted the half-dead fox fey gently in his powerful arms and rushed into the infirmary with me running close behind him in a total state of panic. My heart was frantically pounding as we approached, and I could feel my anxiety rising with each step I took.
When he’d exploded into the room, Kol sat back on the first cot, covering his eyes partially with the white sheet.
“Oh,” he sighed, sitting upright. Then, as if just noticing the lump in Elm’s arms, he sucked in a breath. “Who is that?”
Elm carefully laid Luka down on an empty cot, and with a sense of urgency in his voice, he called out for Fern.
“She’s taking a break,” Kol muttered gently, standing up to get a better view of the injured feyrie. “What happened?”
I perched myself on the edge of the bed, letting my fingers drift through Luka’s chaotic locks of hair. His body was completely still, and he had a deathly pale complexion that made him look like a frozen sculpture.
“We just got back. Found him collapsed on our doorstep, covered in snow.”
“He’s bleeding.” My voice cracked at the obvious statement, throat tightening around the words.
Elm rested a hand on my shoulder, trying to offer me some small amount of solace against the cacophony of my sobs. “He’s gonna be fine.”
But I wasn’t so sure. I’d never felt so powerless before. My hand reached out, trembling, and my fingers wrapped tightly around the fabric of his shirt. I pulled it back gently, revealing a gaping wound in his stomach that caused me to gasp in horror. “My god.”
“Fuck,” Kol stood unsteadily, wings tucked tightly in behind him. “We don’t have time to find Fern.” Through blurry vision, I watched Kol slip to the back of the infirmary and dig through a cabinet of medical supplies.
“Why isn’t he healing?” I demanded. “He isn’t healing.”
Elm’s throat bobbed. “The internal damage is too severe. His body is too focused on trying to close that massive wound. Common fey don’t have the surplus of magick radiating through their body to survive something this bad on their own.”
“And that—” Kol began, shoving me aside with his massive stature. He held up a needle and thread in his hand. “—is why we are gonna sew him up.”
“Rhen.” Elm’s eyes were stern on me. “Go to the drawer over there and find a clear bottle labeled hydromorphone. There should be a syringe, too.”
My knees ached as I stood. Time slowed, morphed around me like I was living inside a bubble. But I made it to the drawer, ripped it open and mouthed the names of different drugs, some of which I’d heard of, and others that were completely foreign. Finally, I saw the vial and pulled it out. It was cold to the touch, as if the contents in the drawer were refrigerated.
I scurried back, handing both the vial, and a packaged syringe to Elm, who looked over at Kol.
“You sure you can do this?” he asked him, to which Kol’s eyes widened. He drew up the clear liquid into the syringe and squeezed Luka’s limp arm, preparing to inject it into him.
“Used to patch up guys in the Hunt all the time. He’s gonna have a nasty scar, but—”
It was his long-winded way of saying yes. “Just shut up and do it, Kol!”
He clamped his lips closed into a fine line and swallowed hard. Elm slipped the needle into a blue green vein like it was butter, pressing lightly on the plunger. Kol immediately went to work, stabbing through angry flesh with the needle, pulling the suture taut after each loop. After ten or fifteen minutes of complete silence, the gaping hole was closed, and I could finally breathe easier again.
The door swung open, and all three of us looked up at the half- fey, whose eyes were wide and filled with anger. “What’s going on? Get back in your bed!”
Kol hopped up, leaving the long thread still attached to Luka’s skin.
“It was an emergency,” Elm assured her. “He’s all closed up, but we’ll be on our way. Let you finish everything up. I gave him a pretty hefty dose of pain meds, so he’ll be out for a while.” He turned to the sylph, who was raking a hand through his silver hair, and winked. “Kol, listen to the lady. Rhen? Let’s give Fern some space.”
I hesitated, and he caught my hand. “He’ll be fine, pet. He can heal now.”
Fern nodded in agreement, her ash blonde ponytail making a gentle swish at the small motion. “I will do everything I can, Miss Hubert.”
Elm tugged on my arm impatiently, and I started to follow him, but paused in my steps. Facing Kol, I mouthed a genuine thank you under my breath.
He closed one eye and blew a kiss in the air with an impish smile. “No problem, baby. Anything for you.”