by Cole, Tillie
“Listen to me,” Noa said, and Diel did as she asked. In all of this shitshow, Noa was his constant. Between her and his brothers, the training, and the meetings where they collectively planned the upcoming Brethren attack, Diel had kept it together.
But he was about to fucking snap.
The motherfucking nightmares were going to destroy everything he had been given. They were going to take him from his Noa. She was the best thing in his life. And he was going to lose her.
He was going to lose himself.
“Look at me,” Noa said when Diel’s focus drifted to the flames in the hearth, lured by the pull of their fiery depths. “Diel … look at me.” Her hand on his cheek guided his attention back to her. Diel was weak. He was too far gone.
Noa swallowed, then leaned down and kissed him. Her lips were like a defibrillator to his body, shocking his still heart back to life. If only for a moment. As she pulled back, she searched his face and said, “I’m going to take you to Naomi.” Diel frowned in confusion, wondering why she wanted him to see his sister. “Do you trust me?” she said, and Diel didn’t question her. He just nodded his head, knowing with complete certainty that he did.
Something breathtaking broke out on Noa’s beautiful face—a sunrise. A fucking beautiful sunrise. She kissed him again and got to her feet. She held out her hand. Diel mustered whatever strength remained and pressed his palm against her palm, letting her help him to his feet. She didn’t let go of him as she said, “Train first. Then—” She sighed. “Then my sister can help.”
Noa helped him dress for training, her hands and lips kissing every inch of his skin as she did. She put on her usual leathers, and Diel watched, savoring the shape of her body, her curves, her skin, the softness and shine of her long hair, the constant light blazing in her brown eyes … just in case. Just in case he became unable to see them anymore.
In case he became unable to feel anymore. His time with Noa … it was always going to have been too good to be true. He’d expected it to come crashing down at some point, expected his fucked-up soul to pollute the only pure gift he’d ever been given. At least he’d had her for a time. In the end, that would have to have been enough.
Noa came to stand before him, as if she could sense something was wrong. She was silent as Diel sat on the end of the bed, limbs heavy and eyes swollen from lack of sleep. His head was blissfully numb, but he knew the moment wouldn’t last. Lately, it never did. The mental whirlwind of destruction would be back, bringing the pain and the racking thoughts that constantly spun too far out of his reach to understand.
“Train, then we see my sister.”
Diel nodded, letting Noa’s stern voice drift over him like a dream. She stepped closer and pressed her forehead to his. He placed his hands on her hips, just holding her close. Breathing her in. “Don’t give up yet, baby,” she whispered, pleading, and his stomach turned at the hint of fear in her usually unwavering voice.
He looked into her eyes. Noa was formidable, rarely showed her vulnerability; she was one of the strongest people Diel knew. But right now, staring back at him was Noa completely exposed, heart and soul on display for only him to see. His heart lobbed into a staccato beat, a flicker of fight bursting from the quicksand of exhaustion. Noa inhaled a shaky breath. “I …” She looked through the window to the grounds beyond, then back at him. “I need you.”
Diel swallowed, and warmth spread through his body like stepping into a Middle Eastern desert after months enduring an Arctic winter. His heart fell when he saw Noa’s eyes shimmer and her lips tremble.
“Noa …” he said, voice hoarse and thick with emotion.
But she clasped her hands around his neck, and with her nose kissing his said, “We’ll get you through this.”
Diel closed his eyes and exhaled a defeated sigh. When he opened his eyes, he felt the scar around his neck pulsing. “Maybe …” He threaded his arms around her back, her leather-covered chest flush to his bare torso. “Maybe I need the collar.”
Noa tensed, then shook her head. “No, Diel,” she said firmly. “That isn’t the problem. You can’t be bound that way. You can’t live that way.”
Diel didn’t have it within him to argue back. He looked up through heavy lashes and said to the woman who had become as constant to him as life-giving heartbeats, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His broad shoulders sagged. “I’m going to break. I’m going to hurt someone …” Dread infused his blood. “I might fall too deeply into darkness and hurt you.”
“You won’t,” Noa said with unwavering faith. Diel went to argue, but she slid her hands to his cheeks again and made him look at her. “I think I might know what is wrong.”
Diel stilled. The very air around him froze, and a flicker of something like hope sparked in his chest. “You … you do?”
Noa nodded, but he caught the flash of uncertainty flitting across her face. He saw a fragment of doubt settle in those eyes he loved so much. She swallowed, and the confidence in her voice returned. “Just … trust me. Let us try something first, before …” Her head lowered, forehead back against his, as if some part of them always had to be touching. In the eight weeks they’d been together, they’d barely been apart.
He felt the desperation drifting off of her. What Noa didn’t understand was that he would do anything for her. He would die for her …
What Noa didn’t know was that he believed he loved her. He didn’t know love or understand the signs. But to Diel, she felt like the sun on his face. A drink of water when his thirst was too much. She was his true north, the gravity that kept him grounded to earth.
“Okay,” Diel said. Noa lifted her head, hope blossoming across her face. She nodded in relief and guided Diel off the bed and toward the door. Just as they were about to leave the suite, Noa turned and moved to the tips of her toes to kiss him. It wasn’t passionate or filled with lust and need, but soft and laced with gratitude. Diel kissed her back, and they went out of the door and to the gym.
They were the last to arrive. The minute they walked toward the Coven and the Fallen, gathered in the center of the room, Sela caught Diel’s eye. His best friend narrowed his gaze on Diel and made a move toward him. Noa held his hand tighter. Sela stopped before him. “What’s wrong?”
Diel cast a glance away to see Dinah watching them too.
Diel looked back at Sela. He knew his brother wasn’t leaving him alone without an answer. A truthful one at that. “Dreams,” Diel confessed, realizing too late that the gym had become silent and his confession to Sela had been heard by everyone else.
Gabriel was at his side in seconds. “What dreams? Are you okay?” Gabriel scanned Diel, then focused on Noa’s iron-clad hold on his hand.
Diel felt it then, like a spear being thrown from across the room, slamming into his head with unexpected force. He winced, his eyes snapping closed, and the headache returned. Hot-poker pain sliced behind his eye, more than a migraine, a debilitating wave of blistering heat that he couldn’t withstand.
Diel didn’t even know he had slumped to his knees until Noa’s hand tightened on his in a futile attempt to keep him standing.
“Brother,” Diel heard Sela’s voice call out from beside him, over the hissing in his ears, over the thudding of his temples. “What the fuck is wrong with him?”
“Diel …” That was Gabriel. “We’re here, we’re all here. You’re going to be okay.”
Diel felt as though his soul was being severed from his body with a blunt blade. But Noa’s hand on his was the anchor that kept him from being sliced apart; she was the magnet to which he stayed compelled. So he held on tighter. He fought. He fought against leaving, against someone unknown taking hold of his brain, his senses, his self.
“Help me lift him,” Sela ordered, and Diel had the distant sensation of being moved, of floating. He focused on the hand still clutching his. Noa. He focused on Noa. Her hand suddenly slackened in his. Fear gripped him in a vise. He fought through the fog and pain in his
head, opened his lips and bellowed out for her. “Noa!”
“I’m here, baby. I’m here.” The sound of her voice calmed the nerves that were threatening to erupt and burn him alive. Diel was placed down on a soft surface, but he didn’t let go of Noa’s hand. He knew he would be lost to the sinkhole in his head if he did.
“What’s wrong with him?” That was Sela talking again. He could hear other voices talking over one another, both male and female. Panic. Breakdown … psychosis … self-protection … Diel kept catching words without context, no sentences, just a sea of jumbled letters that managed to break through the dark shield around his mind.
“Stop,” a familiar voice said quietly. The grip on his hand tightened. “Fucking stop!”
The room around him seemed to shimmer, then quieten. He could hear his heavy breathing, feel the beads of sweat running down his cheeks and off his forehead. Then—
“Baby, come back to me.” That voice. The voice he loved so much. It seemed to always find him in the darkness, no matter how deep he fell. So he reached out for that voice. In the fog, he reached out, endured the agony to hold on to it. To follow it out of the darkness. “Come back to me. Fight,” the voice said again, giving him more to hold on to, a solid hand to find purchase. “Come back to me, baby.”
Tensing all his muscles and using all the strength he could muster, Diel screamed and broke through the inky, slick surface to find the source of that voice. He blinked his eyes open and flinched at the blistering light. He breathed and breathed, clutching on to the hand.
Noa … Noa … Noa …
He forced his eyes to remain open, enduring the pain, and roved his blurred vision around the room to find her. She was suddenly above him, bringing welcome relief. Diel’s hands shook with exertion, but he held on tightly to her, held on like his life depended on it—in that moment, he was sure that it did.
“Hello, pretty monster,” Noa said, smiling widely. Diel could tell, even in his foggy state, that Noa was trying for humor. But the crack in her voice betrayed her worry; it told him just how fucked he truly was. Diel scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand, and the blurred veil fell to semi-clarity.
Sela was beside him, cheeks pale and mouth tight. Gabriel was beside him too, then … all his brothers were there—Bara, Uriel, Raphael, Michael. He rolled his head to Noa. Next to her were the Coven, a flanking force of witches.
Noa pushed the sweaty strands of hair off his forehead, then leaned down and kissed his damp skin. Diel tugged her hand closer, but when he looked into her eyes, he knew she saw how little strength he had left.
“Hold on,” she begged, as if reading his mind. “Please … just let us try something.”
Diel sank back into the … bed, he was on a bed. In his bed. His pillow and sheets still smelled of Noa.
“Noa,” Gabriel said. “What’s happening? Why didn’t you tell us he was this way?” Diel didn’t like the edge in Gabriel’s voice as he addressed Noa. It wasn’t her fault. She had kept him here. She had kept him grounded.
“He’s been having dreams,” Noa said. “Nightmares, I suppose.”
“For how long?” Sela asked.
“A while,” Noa said. “They’ve gotten worse of late. But this week … This week, they’ve been debilitating. Disabling.”
“Nightmares?” Uriel asked. “What kind? What are they about? You should have told us.”
Noa was quiet. “I think they’re memories.” She met Diel’s eyes, as though it was only the two of them in the room and she was talking only to him. It was the first time she had ever said anything like that, the first time she’d told him why she thought he was having the nightmares.
“I think it’s your mind taking you back to who you were before Purgatory. And I think you’re resisting it because you’re afraid.” Her eyes shone. “Like your monster shielded you from the Brethren and their punishments, I think your collar, all of it, shielded you from the truth of your past too.” She squeezed his hand. “Because it was too painful … because maybe there’s grief there, agonies you’re avoiding letting into your heart. And I think they’re tired of being ignored.”
Diel’s breathing increased in speed. Noa lifted her head and looked at Gabriel, then each of Diel’s brothers. “I thought the nightmares would eventually reveal the past to him, organically, like drizzling rain rather than a monsoon. Be less painful. I thought that without the collar, he would be more open to revealing that part of himself.” Noa faced Diel again. “But I think you’re too conditioned to shielding yourself.” She cast him a sad smile. “Learned self-preservation.” She sighed. “All of us in this room will have developed our own form of that.”
Noa put her free hand on his cheek. “But you need to let those memories in. They are plaguing you, baby, like a cancer left untreated. You must marry the two together—the Diel of old and the one you became in Purgatory. I think it’s how we finally get you free.”
Diel’s heart beat a fearful soundtrack to Noa’s words. Because he was scared. Who was he before? Did he have family? Had they been killed like Noa’s family had been, like he suspected all of the Coven’s families had been?
He felt his body tremble and his hands shake. “How?” he asked Noa, more of a plea than a question. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted the fogged-up thoughts to stop, the eternal black pit of nothingness to leave him, to stop haunting his every night, every day.
Noa kissed his hand that remained clutched in hers. “I might be wrong,” she said, so quietly he knew it was meant for him only. “I might be wrong about it all.”
In that moment, Diel’s heart swelled and it was filled with nothing but her; it beat only her name, bled only her voice. He shifted his body until he was pressed against her and he could feel the heat from her skin permeate his.
“I can’t leave you,” Diel whispered, and Noa’s eyes closed as if he’d spoken words directly from a heaven they believed neither of them would ever enter. With the pad of his thumb, he caught a falling tear that was escaping down her cheek. “I won’t leave you.”
He guided her face to his and kissed her lips. They shook against his, and he tasted salt from her tears. “Help me,” he whispered against her mouth. “Please …”
Noa’s back straightened and he saw determination written on her face. She pulled back as Diel sank back into the bed. He felt a hand land on his shoulder and looked at Sela, who was still by his side. His brother’s face was haunted, worry deep in his furrowed brows. But he was beside Diel. Showing him he would always walk beside him. All his brothers would.
“Naomi?” Noa said, an odd cadence to her voice. The mute redheaded healer’s eyes widened at her name being called. Naomi never spoke. Noa had told Diel that some of her tongue had been removed by the Witch Finders as a punishment. She had rarely spoken since, and if she did it was only ever to her sisters. Naomi’s face paled and she shook her head profusely. “Please …” Noa’s voice cracked, as did Naomi’s terrified expression. Even in his weakened state, Diel could see pure fear reflected in Naomi’s face as her eyes scanned the room.
“Please, Naomi,” Noa begged. Diel didn’t know what she was begging her for, but he trusted Noa as much as he did any of his brothers.
“We’ll leave the room,” Gabriel said to Noa and Naomi, “if it will help things. If it makes things better for you.”
Sela’s hand tightened on Diel’s shoulder. His best friend didn’t want to go. “And what exactly are you planning to do?” Sela asked, suspicion and protectiveness lacing his voice.
“Regression.” Dinah turned to Noa. “That’s what you’re thinking, right?” Noa nodded. Dinah stepped forward. “I’ll do it. I’ve seen Naomi do it before. I have some knowledge on it. I think I can do it.”
Noa’s head dropped, and Diel saw the disappointment in her face. She turned back to him, smiling a strained smile as she brushed her hand over his forehead. Then Naomi stepped forward. The Coven stilled, and Noa turned around again. Naomi lifted her head gave N
oa a subtle nod.
“Thank you,” Noa said with a deep exhale. She briefly released Diel to embrace Naomi. Noa held her younger sister tightly, only pulling away to kiss her cheek. “Thank you.”
As Naomi went to leave the room, Gabriel asked her, “Do you need us to leave?” Naomi looked at the Fallen brothers, who were tense, awaiting her response. Anyone could see they didn’t want to go anywhere. That was the Fallen. It was a unit, a brotherhood. When one of them hurt, they all did. When one of them was down, the others were there to pick him back up.
Naomi dropped her shoulders, but then shook her head. They could stay. She quickly left the room, Candace and Jo following behind. “She’s gone to get some things that she needs,” Dinah said.
Noa took Diel’s hand again and sat on the bed beside him. He breathed deeply.
Regression. They were going to try regression.
“What the fuck happens with regression?” Bara asked, sitting down on a nearby chair.
“It’s a type of hypnosis,” Dinah said. “It unlocks your subconscious. Frees memories that have been blocked out by trauma, things that have been repressed.”
Bara’s smile was immediate. “Trauma? I don’t think anyone in this room has experienced any trauma.” Sarcasm dripped off him like water. Noa sighed at Diel’s brother’s ill-timed attempt at humor, and Diel looked over at her. She scooted down beside him until they faced one another.
A light knock came on the bedroom door, and Maria let herself in. Raphael was across the bedroom in seconds to kiss her. As they pulled apart, she said, “Candace and Jo have just told me what’s happening.” Raphael took her to the couch beside Bara. He pulled her to his lap, and Diel looked at the happiness on Raphael’s face as he held her, golden eyes content. Diel wondered if he ever looked like that around Noa. He never used to understand Raphael’s need for Maria.
He absolutely did now.
Diel kissed Noa’s head as she threaded her arm around his waist. “Feel free to give him a good-luck fuck,” Bara said to Noa, his legs crossed and his red hair hanging down over his shoulders like a curtain of flames.