Witherstone- Wings of My Legion

by Elizabeth Holland

  I shook my head. I was a little nervous, but I was starting to get used to the whole thing.

  He swallowed hard, then he sat back and let go of my belly. “When is she due?”

  “Soon,” I told him, curious as to his reply. But the man just nodded.

  “I won’t ask you to come to Frostmoor,” he started, his gaze hovering over my body. “I won’t tell you what I think you should do. But, please, Irene, let me be here for you. Let me be a part of this.”

  I had this stupid smile on my face that I couldn’t make go away. “Elliot, I’ve already told you that that is what I wanted.” My Lord’s eyes flicked over me before taking on a glossy sheen. I felt his face as I leaned closer, letting him enjoy the moment fully. “And honestly,” I took a breath, “I don’t really know where to raise her. Or how. Or what I’ll do once she starts to embrace her nature.”

  “We’ll figure it out together,” he told. “I promise.” Glancing around the place, Elliot looked pleased with the apartment. “Do you like how it turned out?”

  “I loved it from the second I saw it,” I gushed. “Everything about this place feels like home. The colors, the textures; the way you guys seem to know me so well.”

  “Did you like the cheesecake?” he asked.

  “How did you know?”

  “He said he was planning on it,” Elliot smiled. “I think your aunt helped make it happen, especially since Dylan’s been in a slumber.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I slid to the edge of the bed. “We have to get over there. Everyone’s at my aunt’s, trying to figure out what to do with Dylan and how to handle the quelling.”

  “Are they able to wake your brother?” Elliot stood up so I could get off the bed. I gave a nod. “And break the bond?”

  “Yeah, it’s complicated.” I went over to the dresser and grabbed some clothes. At the bathroom door, I turned to Elliot and said, “Just come with me and we can finally get things in motion.”

  “Um,” he got ready to ask something, I could tell, but I rushed into the bathroom and shut the door. How I was going to tell him I planned on going was a conversation for another time. Besides, I didn’t have a choice. I had to go. At least according to Cole. My Lord, of course, was a diligent man. “Irene,” he tapped the door twice. “What exactly are you planning?” I could hear the building curiosity in his tone. That strange lurking worry that once kept me housebound under his watchful eye.

  I opened the door with a couple of inches room to see through. “I have to go to the Isle to bury the stone.” Say something. Elliot was blank-faced and silent. “It’s part of my… fate or whatever. I have to.”

  He squinted, not exactly looking at me, not really looking through me, and then gave me a single, solid nod. “Then I’ll go as well,” soft, but factual. I wasn’t going to argue and I wasn’t about to discuss it further.

  “Okay,” I said, then closed the door.

  You’ve got this, I told myself while looking into the mirror. You’re Lady of the Wild. And what could be wilder?

  “Irene?” a voice called my name in an echoey tone. I turned around to examine the bathroom, but there was no one. I hadn’t even started to undress, I hadn’t begun to run the water. There was a nice cool light coming from the window as the sun rose higher over the town. My bathroom, small and simple, did not have places for hiding. The voice, which came to me twice more, was somewhere else entirely. Somewhere untouchable.

  “Yes?” I asked to the open air. I tried to be quiet, because I just knew Elliot was listening to my every move.

  “Irene, take caution, my sweet,” the angelic voice continued. My arms shivered as goosebumps trickled down over my skin. “The Isle was once heavenly. Now, it’s a place of dismay.”

  “Who are you?” I questioned, my voice now loud enough for Elliot to come and investigate.

  “Irene? What’s wrong?” he knocked on the door.

  “Nothing,” I replied.

  “It feeds upon the weak, it consumes what it cannot break,” the voice finished off before fading from my ears in an airy, distant nature.

  “Who’s in here?” Elliot demanded an answer as he shoved the door open, breaking the handle and the lock.

  “Really?” I shook my head at him.

  In he came, stomping around as his eyes scanned every inch of the place under a tight, furrowed brow. He checked the cabinet under the sink, behind the shower curtain, out the window. I said his name twice without any reaction. “Elliot?” Finally grabbing his arm for attention, I was taken back by the coolness of his skin. “What’s the matter?” I stepped closer to him as his eyes evaded mine. “Don’t hide from me.”

  Shaking his head, the man spoke with such a low and quiet voice that I almost did not make out his words. “She was here, wasn’t she?” Elliot’s tone gave me reason to tremble, deep down in my core, in my bones. “You know it.”

  I rubbed at my arms and shrugged off his words.

  “I can feel her,” he spoke. “Protective, light as air,” he lifted his gaze to the room. “Tell me,” he gripped my arms so that I’d focus on him, “what did she say to you?”

  I flinched under his strain, but he kept me still. “She said the Isle feeds on the weak,” I told him. In a softer voice, I continued, “It consumes what it can’t break.”

  Elliot leaned back and gave me some air. He slowly released his grip on my arms and then looked me over as if to apologize. I shook my head so he knew I was fine.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Yeah you did,” I interrupted. “You always mean to protect me,” I sighed. The look of gratefulness in his eyes said it all. I knew his actions were from a good place, they just weren’t well-thought most of the time. “I want a shower now,” I spoke. “Okay?” I can’t explain why I always felt the need to ask for things around him, but I did. And so I asked, even though it was already established that I was taking a shower. Of course, now things were a little different. The moment, the room, it all felt strange.

  “I’ll wait out here,” he took hold of the door and slipped out with one more look at my face. “And I’ll fix this when you’re done.”

  MIND THE HEART

  I drove to my aunt’s with Elliot in the passenger seat. It was a little weird, really. He just seemed like the type of guy who would always drive me around. But he didn’t even ask. He helped me fix the bathroom door, then he came outside and got into the passenger seat as I took the driver seat. And the ride over was weird, too. I kept glancing over at him while he studied the town. Each time he raised his brow and went to turn in my direction, I hurried away.

  “You still feel it, don’t you?” he asked just before we got onto the bridge. “That desire, longing, a need to be close.”

  I cleared my throat in a stammered, ridiculous cough. “What?”

  “I feel it, too,” he faced me, completely, no turning away. His voice was thick, lingering in my ears like it had rolled from the depths of the earth. “Constantly.”

  I swallowed. “I um,” sliding my hands over the wheel, I couldn’t think of what to say. “I guess.”

  Elliot leaned against the door with a nod.

  “There’s always something,” I tried to joke, but he was in his usual serious mood.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Um, there’s always something pulling us together,” I treaded cautiously. I wasn’t going to have that smoke fill my car and freak me out. And yes, I was a bit freaked out. Elliot was powerful, decisive, on point, and now he could kill things without much thought. As if I needed another reason to tiptoe around him. “Our birthright, the unity ceremony, the blood.”

  “I never needed those things to want to be near you.”

  Damn it.

  “Well, it’s just, I don’t know,” I waved my hand around and the car swerved just enough for him to grunt in dismay. “I just feel like we’re destined to always… always…”

  “Belong?” his voice perked a little as I glanced over briefly and caught hi
s eyes searching my entirety for some clarity, or something maybe that helped him make sense of what I was thinking. I don’t know. The man was a mystery himself, honestly.

  I sort of nodded and shrugged at the same time in response. He had more to say, though.

  “Of course we do,” he nodded as he turned to face the winding road ahead. “We always will belong together.” That’s not what I said. “Especially now,” he looked down over my belly. I was in a t-shirt, showing off a pretty decent egg-shaped belly at this point. All of my clothes were starting to get tight, but I always wore tight shirts to begin with. Our baby, growing so fast that I had decided to just sit back and let it happen without anymore questions, had become noticeable.

  Elliot, still gazing over her, started to smile. It made me smile. And there we were, again being one in the same.

  “Should I go to the hospital?” I wondered about the birth. I hadn’t even seen a doctor. My aunt had done a few witchy exams I suppose one could say, but nothing like a modern hospital. Elliot, in all his adorableness, misunderstood me completely.

  “Right now?” he gasped. “Are you in pain? Should I drive?” he hammered me with questions as his hand gripped mine for support. “Pull the car over.”

  “No, Elliot,” I kind of laughed. It didn’t sit well with him that I had found him amusing. “I meant when I do go into labor, not right now.”

  With a heavy breath, the man sat back and rubbed his palms against his knees. It was interesting to see him all bothered and on edge. It made me giggle.

  “It wasn’t funny,” he huffed as he turned to the window.

  “Really, though, what should I do?” I waited for his reply, and he was kind, but entirely traditional like I’d expect.

  “If you were my wife, I’d take you back to the Manor. There, Helena would most likely deliver the baby, with the help of Master Beynon.”

  “Master Beynon?” I cringed. Not that he wasn’t wonderfully nice and, I’m sure, knowledgeable. But it was Master Beynon. Elliot’s uncle. An older man like my dad.

  “Justine then,” he corrected. I smiled at his attempt to make me feel at ease.

  “But not here?” I wondered.

  Elliot shook his head.

  “Why not?” I asked as I pulled into my aunt’s driveway. I took note of Scarlet’s car parked under the willow tree to the right of the house.

  “Because the storms that will arrive during labor are like nothing this world has known.”

  I parked the car and just sat there. He was right. My daughter’s arrival would come with wild storms, torrential rain, and, most likely, a day without sunlight. I looked up to the house and was thankful my aunt—or anyone else—had decided to wait inside for me this time. I turned off the key and faced Elliot.

  “I think,” it was hard to make a decision like that, but I knew it was for the best, “that you should take me there.” His eyes brightened as they met mine. “It’s for the best.”

  “Okay,” he nodded along, happy—I could tell by his complacent demeanor—about my choice. And probably that I heeded his words and trusted his judgment. “Is she growing fast?” he eyed my belly again.

  I cradled the baby in my hands and then said, “Too fast,” just before Charlotte called out to me from the porch. So much for privacy.

  “Then we should leave soon,” he advised. I nodded with a long exhale.

  “You know, I don’t have anything ready,” I confessed. “I don’t have blankets, diapers, bottles; there’s nowhere for her to sleep.”

  “We’ll get those things,” he took hold of my hand again. “I’ll get you whatever you need. Anything.”

  “Thank you,” I said in a near-whisper. There was a slight tension in the air between us. An eagerness to make more of the moment. His fingers tickling my wrist, me biting my lower lip. I leaned just a bit closer and he copied, and I thought for sure he’d kiss me. But my annoying sister just couldn’t relax.

  “Irene, we’re waiting!” she grunted from the stairs, crossing her arms as she tilted her head in a disapproving glare.

  “Just hang on!” I yelled to her with the windows up. It was stupid, but it made Elliot laugh. He gave my wrist one more squeeze, then proceeded to exit the car.

  “Hey,” my sister practically rolled her eyes at Elliot when we got to the door. “Bout time,” she mumbled to me. Once inside, the door shut hard and we just stood there waiting for someone to speak.

  “Elliot!” Julian came from the kitchen with a huge grin on his face. The two exchanged a few words, and a lasting hug, before my dad came through and did the same. They had started a conversation about Dylan, carrying on in the doorway to the kitchen while my aunt came over to me.

  “Before your brother arrives, there’s something Scarlet would like to do,” my aunt told. Her eyes traveled over to Scarlet, who was sitting on the stairs cradling herself. She was alone; her eyes dancing over the feet in the room as they moved around casually. Her hair covered half of her face, but I could see that determined look in her eye.

  “Hey,” I went over and leaned against the rail post. “Something wrong?”

  “I don’t think he’ll do it,” she shook her head.

  “Who won’t do what?” I asked as I glanced over my aunt and Charlotte, who had just come over from the bookshelf.

  “Lucas wants to be mortal,” Scarlet’s brow lifted as she sighed. “I just wish he’d see how wonderful life could be with magic.”

  “He’ll find his way,” Charlotte popped down to one of the stairs. I was a little surprised at her words. It was sound advice, especially when I expected her to be somewhat mean. Charlotte was, however, always intrigued by this magical side of life. Always eager to get her hands into the gemstones, always excited to light the candles. Now, with our mother’s grimoire in her hands, I remembered those times like they were fresh moments in my mind. Scarlet, though, was watching as Charlotte fingered through the book, landing on a page with an illustration of a circle.

  “What’s that about?” I studied the image upside-down.

  “This is how a Greyhart recovers their magic.”

  “Something we must do before the journey to Isle Lore,” my aunt added.

  “Why’s that?” I asked.

  “Because we need balancing energies to contain the stone until it’s destroyed,” Charlotte arched her brow. “And it can’t be mortal energies.”

  “Wow,” I breathed out.

  “I know,” Scarlet fussed a little in her seat. I could just imagine her kicking her feet in a tantrum like she had when we were kids. I found myself lost in a memory then, of Scarlet singing in the school play when we were in second grade. It was a production of Bambi, and she and I were both raindrops. During rehearsal, she stepped up and started belting out a big tune that had nothing to do with the story. And when the teacher told her she couldn’t sing, aside from the little verse they gave us, Scarlet threw herself on the floor in a fit.

  Bringing me back to my present reality, a car door slammed shut just outside the porch. Charlotte got up, and together we went out to meet Lydia and Lucas. Scarlet, however, ran up to the bathroom I used to use.

  Lucas let out a breath as he stood there in the wind, tucking his hands into his pockets and looking out to the sky. It was overcast now, a dulling white abyss that was more depressing than a long rainy day. Actually, not like any of my friends would be surprised, I preferred the rain over the sun. But the endless white, the plainness of it all, just hovering there and doing nothing special, it was utter yuck.

  “You’re bigger,” Lydia smiled widely. “I mean—”

  “No, it’s okay,” I laughed. “I am totally bigger,” I looked over my belly. “I think she waits a few days then just plumps up.” We both laughed.

  “Is Scarlet inside?” Lydia asked. I nodded. Charlotte, though, had her opinions.

  “She’s crying,” my sister had locked eyes with Lucas. “Upstairs. Alone.”

  “Then go comfort her,” I cocked my hea
d and nudged my sister to get her to stop being so rude. She agreed, taking Lydia in with her.

  “I don’t know what to say to her,” Lucas spoke in a quiet voice as he eyed the house.

  “Yeah, I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a twin. I bet you’ve shared a lot of things throughout your life.” The wind pulled at my hair now, blowing it right into my face. I let it flow out of view as I rubbed my arms to the chilling air.

  “We have,” he licked his lips in thought. “But this,” he shook his head and sighed. “I’m terrified of what’ll happen,” he whispered to me as he leaned closer. “She doesn’t think like that. She wants the magic, the power, the life you all have. She has no idea what it’ll do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have you spoken to your aunt? Has Charlotte told you about this… this ceremony they want to do? Like, right now!”

  “No,” I said, but he kept talking, kept digging his hands deeper in his pockets.

  “We have to drink your blood,” he made a face of disgust. “We have to invite the elements and let them choose us. And we have to do it together or not at all.”

  “Do you think it’ll be painful?” I tried to understand his distress.

  “Of course it’ll hurt!” he huffed like he was frustrated that I didn’t already know all about the event. “We’re trying to change our chemical structure, our DNA, our spirit.”

  I waited for him to settle before I spoke this time. “I can understand that. I went through it too. And it’s hard, and it hurts, but I’m so happy that I get to live this life.”

  He glanced up to me with this sweet, yet frightened look that almost broke my heart.

  “Do you want to see?” I offered.

  “See what?” he leaned forward, eyeing me with a narrow gaze.

  “Just watch,” I told him, then stepped back until I was in the grass. He leaned against the car and crossed his arms with a furrowed brow. I, however, was all smiles.

  I steadied my feet in the grass and lifted my shoulders high. With my eyes closed, I reached out my arms and felt the wind on my fingertips. I let that feeling flow down to my elbows, then up to my neck. Soon, the cool breeze was covering all of me. I giggled as it rushed over my body from my head to my toes. Opening my eyes, I breathed in rhythm with the wind, coercing it to flow down over the grass and the helicopter seeds on the lawn. Then, with a breath in, I pulled at the wind so that the seeds lifted up over our heads. One more big gust of wind and the seeds were twirling all around us in a dizzying spectacle of nature’s magic.