I was so alone, losing touch with reality every passing moment. He did return that night, and I ran right into his arms. He’d pushed me to my knees, I had to call him ‘my king’ and ask him to take me. That part, knowing that I had asked for him to rape me every single time with my own trembling voice, sent me into hysterical fits of psychosis that only several medications and years of patience from West could help heal.
Troy then led me to the bed and took me from behind, wrapping my long hair in his hand and ordering me to spread my legs even further for him. I’d been horrified when I had an orgasm, my body responding to his attack.
He knew it, he knew the moment I came, and he turned me over so he could watch my face. I instantly began crying, and he only laughed, forcing himself between my legs again.
Early the next morning, I’d cut myself for the first time.
“Where have you gone, my love?”
His kind, breathy words startled me. I realized he had already finished, and was holding himself up to keep from crushing me beneath him.
“Troy?”
“Where have you gone in your haunted mind, my Mina? Your eyes,” he kissed each one, slowly, and I continued to stare at him, vacant and still. “You are filled with such sadness, such terror. What he did to you… is reprehensible. I will seek vengeance on his family. His name, Mina, tell me this monster’s name.”
I rested my hand along the side of his face. My monotone voice was foreign to my own ears. “He is gone.”
That evening, I received word that my mother had died.
I didn’t cry. I stared at the ocean, reminding myself that she wasn’t my mother, that Lydia Camden had died when I was ten years old. When another snowstorm arrived, darkening the world for weeks, I retreated into my bed, sleeping for as long as possible.
I dreamed of West. The dreams were not memories of past lives, but were snippets of our marriage. Watching him study for his medical exams… ordering Christopher to stop playing video games and clean his room… and listening to Eva create her music while she sketched on the balcony.
I stopped meeting Logan in the tower.
Spring arrived, and I paced the shore for most of the day, watching the water tumble forward and pull back again and again. I knew West was there, forever there, in that ocean, and being as close to him as possible was my only serenity.
Water calms you.
“Come with me,” Logan’s voice murmured from behind. “You stay out here for hours, Roam. You need to eat, and rest,” he glanced back at the castle, and I knew he was resisting the urge to wrap his arms around me.
The sun kissed my face, coaxing a smile. “I want to stay with West.”
“West isn’t out there.”
“He’s in every wave. I just want to stay in the sand. I want to be with the ocean. Please just let me be.”
“You haven’t met me in the tower for weeks,” his lowered voice was rough, and I covered my growing middle.
“I’ll meet you in a little while.”
He nodded.
Troy doted on me all day, careful to make sure that I was comfortable and happy, but left me to my own thoughts at night. Already he had stopped requiring me in his bed and had begun spending nights with his whores.
I was careful as I made my way through the castle, taking every extra turn to avoid being followed. I was going to tell Logan that it was over, and that we needed to keep our distance going forward. My conscience ate at me, night after night, and the guilt that I felt for betraying West’s memory only strengthened my resolve.
Logan met me at the door with a kiss, his hands all over me at once. I sighed, flattening my palms over his broad chest. “No, Logan. Just hold me.”
“I want you, Cam. Please. Is it the baby? I’ll be careful.” His mouth moved over cheeks, my ears, and when his teeth nipped my earlobe, I moaned. Stupid body.
“No…,”
“One last time, then.”
I was already responding to his coaxing words. He’d put together a mattress of straw and furs months ago, and he lifted me into his arms before laying me in the warm, sunlit bed. I closed my eyes, tangling my fingers into his dark curls as he traced kisses over my throat and my chest. It was safe to be kissed by Logan, my friend, the man who would never hurt me. As he moved inside me, slowly, filling, I threw my hands behind my head, flattening my palms against the stone wall.
We came together, him loudly, me softly, and he stayed inside of me even as he rolled us to our sides.
Minutes turned to hours, as they often did when I would steal away time with Logan.
“Do you think it’s a girl?”
His fingers outlined my naked silhouette, following the curve of my hips. I moved slightly and pulled away, covering us both with a fur.
“I think it’s a boy. I wasn’t sick with Christopher. I’m not sick with this baby.”
“You were so sick with the first baby. Remember Thanksgiving, at my parent’s house? You felt it move for the first time, in the bathroom.”
I nodded, focusing on the particles of dust that floated in the stream of sunlight. “I remember.” After long moments of silence, my voice sounded foreign to my own ears as I spoke. “That was the worst time of my life. Losing the baby, losing Eva through the fountain… knowing Troy was hunting me. It was more awful than being stuck in the castle with him. At least, in the castle, I had hope that West would come… and I had you. And Will, to teach me that I could use the sword.”
“Cam, you would never have been as strong as you were in the castle if you hadn’t gone through all of that. That night… the masquerade… I saw vengeance. I saw retribution. You killed everyone in your path until you got to Troy.” He tightened his hold on me. “When I went back for Violet and Eva in that secret room, Violet was so fucking scared. She didn’t even recognize you. You’d been to hell and back, and you were willing to die… for revenge. And you almost did.”
“I replay that moment over and over in my head. Or, at least, I did… until I went on medication,” I admitted. “I think about what I would have done differently. How quickly he managed to pin me, and drive that sword through my shoulder-…,”
“Shh.” He sighed. I closed my mouth, my fingers twisting together. He wrapped one large, firm hand over both of mine, stilling them. “I don’t know how much time has passed. Rose was only two. What if we do get back? What if she doesn’t even remember me?”
“Wynn wouldn’t let that happen. Your parents wouldn’t let that happen.”
“What am I going to tell them, if we get through this? How am I going to raise them alone? Without a mother?”
“Stop,” I hushed, silencing his words with my lips. “Wynn is strong. Like her mother. Like her father. She will be there for Rose like Morgan was for me.”
The heavy wooden door banged against the wall.
My lungs failed and refused to expand.
Troy stood before us, unreal, and I wondered if I was hallucinating.
“Witch.”
The voice snapped us both into reality. We climbed to our feet, and I did a frantic search for my gown as Logan moved in front of me.
The furious king stood in the stairwell doorway, seething, and several guards flew in behind him.
“Troy-…,”
“Why?” He hissed, and then snapped his icy eyes to Logan. “Brother, you betray me.”
I was going to faint. The ringing was louder than Troy’s words as he approached, and I barely felt the stinging slap as he struck me. Logan moved to attack him, but more than five guards restrained him. “I was warned of your ways. Many whispers of your powers over men, and your control. ‘Tis fitting that I find you in the hanging tower, whoring your body even as you carry my son.”
He was going to kill Logan.
I watched as the guards aimed their swords at him, blocking him from attacking. His dark eyes met mine, and I held my head, shivering, fear churning in my stomach.
“Please… don’t hurt him, Troy, it’
s my fault… I did cast a spell, I… he’s under a spell,” I held my stomach, trying not to vomit. “I thought he was going to betray you, so I got… close to him… to find out his true intentions…,”
“Betray me? He is my brother. My blood. You are a witch and a whore. You will both be tried for treason. Put them in chains!” He roared, turning and sweeping down the stairs.
Logan fought his restraints, but I walked, resigned, taking my place in the cold, stone cell.
Chapter Twelve
Eva
“Will!”
“Eva, breathe,” he gripped my hand, turning toward the door. “Bring her more pillows, now!”
The maids nodded, their faces pallid and voices trembling with apprehension.
“I need a doctor, I can’t do this without a hospital, what if it gets stuck? Won’t come out? Will- stop touching my hair!” He jerked his hand away, and even through the pain, I felt horrible. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, I know you’re trying to make me feel… better… fuck,” I bit my lip, moaning.
“I wish I could bear this pain for you, love,” he whispered against my ear, and I nodded, sniffing.
“Me, too.”
He pulled back, chuckling softly at my agreement.
The contraction was building again, tightening from the bottom of my spine. The pain moved all the way around my sides before exploding into burning cramps in my abdomen. I threw my hand in the air, trying for a spell to take the throbbing away, but instead I could no longer feel my feet… and my frequency began. I turned to the side of the bed, and Will grabbed a basin just in time for me to heave.
The nausea never left throughout my entire pregnancy. I hadn’t seen Christopher in the months I’d been a prisoner in my own room, and Will was no longer allowed to visit him in the dungeon. Icepond’s rule was now left to Meredith and Eric entirely, and she kept Will close at her side for counsel.
And she hated me.
I knew that if I couldn’t bring Troy here soon after my baby was born, Meredith would kill me.
Or worse. I knew that once our child was born, she would use it to threaten us.
“No magic, not right now,” Will wiped at my mouth with tissues and then reached for my hand, waving my fingers in the air again and silencing the radio static. “You are in much pain, and your power is unpredictable.”
“Wait, I numbed my feet… I should be able to do the rest of my body-…,”
“And how will you know when to push? Please, please, Eva, just be brave,” he pressed his lips to my forehead as the maid returned with another pillow.
“This is horrible, I hate this, I’m never doing this again,” I sobbed as he propped the pillow under my legs. “I’m going to be a horrible mother. I’m so selfish, and I can’t stand crying babies!”
He managed a sympathetic smirk. “You will be a generous and doting mother, and you will tolerate your own child’s cries, I promise you.”
“I’m sorry, don’t tell anyone I said that,” I ground my teeth, growling through the cramping.
“You are strong,” he promised, taking my hand again. I panted, knowing another contraction was coming any moment. “When our child is born, you can practice magic again without sickness.”
“Will,” I turned to him, my expression panicked. “Please protect our baby. I’m so afraid Meredith will-…,”
“I am prepared, love,” he whispered, soothing, and my chin quivered on its own accord. “Hush, now. There is nothing more important to me than you and our child.”
I nodded, the back of my head hitting the pillow as another contraction tore me in two. When I blinked away the tears, I realized Eric was standing in the doorway, and I screamed. “Get out of here!” My tired voice was raspy and nearly gone.
“I’d like to offer you comfort.” He stepped forward, and I gritted my teeth, cracking Will’s knuckles beneath my grip.
“Then bring my sister back!” I cried, with no time to catch my breath as another contraction built.
“I cannot bring back the dead. But I can bring you the living.”
Even through the pain, I recognized the frightened girl at his side. “Wynn? Oh my God, where is Rose? Did Meredith hurt her?”
“No, she is safe,” Eric answered, and Wynn glanced back at him once before running to my side. “She traveled to your world to bring your nieces here with you.”
To bring more to threaten me with. More liabilities.
“Meredith knows that she has the ability to travel, then,” I hugged Logan’s daughter, searching her eyes. Does she know about Violet?
“Meredith is not cruel. She brought these girls here to pay their respects to their mother.”
I turned to Wynn.
Her features were very much like Logan’s; brown hair and brown eyes, but her face was rounded and pretty like Violet’s. She was older, and I realized that years had passed on Earth over the course of nine months here. Mentally I did the math.
Three years. Rose would be five… and Wynn, nineteen.
“I’m sorry Wynn,” I managed before another excruciating pain stole my words. She took my other hand, her face lifting to Will’s.
“Magic can’t help her with the pain?”
“Not her own magic.” My husband answered.
Eric took a step forward, and I drifted in and out of consciousness. “Don’t let him touch me. No spells from him. He is fucking evil.”
“Alexander has arrived,” Eric moved aside as an older man approached my bedside, his graying hair and rounded spectacles giving him a fatherly appearance. I had seen Will’s physician several times over the course of the months, and grew to appreciate his gentle manner.
“I’ll see to the queen-” he stopped short, looking at Eric quickly before back to me. “I mean, Lady Eva.”
Will and Wynn stayed while Alexander examined me. Another contraction left me sobbing in Will’s arms, and I briefly caught the grave look the doctor exchanged with Will.
“May I speak privately with you, your majesty?”
I knew he chanced imprisonment or worse by referring to Will as his king, but I also knew that Alexander would never acknowledge Eric and Meredith as more than the terrorists that they were.
“Don’t leave,” I begged weakly, and Wynn brushed at her own tears before using a cool washcloth to wipe my brow.
Will moved toward the bathroom door, listening to the doctor’s whispers.
When my husband’s blue eyes turned on me, I knew it was over.
“Eva,” he comforted, and I shook my head, crying through another contraction. “The child will not come. Your body is not ready,” he tried, and I could hear the emotion in his voice. “Alexander must cut the child from you.”
“A caesarean?” Wynn turned back to me. “My mom had one with me and Rose. It’s going to be fine, Eva,” she assured me, her voice catching at the mention of her mother.
“You’ll heal her with this, when it is through.”
Eric stood at the doorway again with the pink Adarna bird feather, and Will grabbed it, turning to Alexander to explain.
I tuned out the commotion, lifting my eyes to the ceiling. Will stood over me, the feather in his hand. “The enchanted sleep. I shall be here when you wake,” he comforted, kissing my lips, and I nodded weakly as he drew the feather over me. When nothing happened, he reached for my hand, wrapping my fingers around the quill and waving the barbs in the air.
The calming sleep welcomed me.
“Eva!”
Christopher’s voice. I opened my eyes; we stood on a large boulder in the middle of the ocean. I nearly screamed as a siren jumped out of the water, snarling and biting at the air before diving back into the cold depths of the sea.
“Christopher?”
“Finally,” he hugged me, and I folded into his arms. He was even taller, as tall as our father, and I realized that he was twenty years old now. It was bizarre seeing him older than me after having been his big sister all of our lives.
�
�What’s that fuzzy shit on your chin?” I teased, and he scratched at the blonde scruff, grinning.
“You have no idea how glad I am to see you. Listen, I don’t know how much time we have.” He looked down at my body, and then back to my eyes. “Where is your baby?”
“I think… I’m having it right now,” I replied, confused, and he laughed.
“Okay, then. Listen. I can do magic. Grandfather is alive, and he’s been teaching me for months. Magic is part of us, if it’s in our blood, Eva. It’s like a personality trait. It functions with your interests and abilities. Don’t try to learn the magic, just let the magic learn you. Watch this,” he held his hand out to his side, three fingers tapping to an invisible beat in the air.
Suddenly, he was fully dressed in a diving suit, armed with an M4 carbine. I took a step back, nearly falling off the boulder as the waves crashed around us. He caught me before I stumbled.
“What…,”
“Wait,” he took my hand in his, and I hesitated as I felt his magic tumble through me. I was dressed in a pink, puffy gown, and my hair whipped around my face in artificial, yellow-blonde strands. “No, not Princess Peach. You’re more badass than that. Um…,” he tried again, and this time I was in purple.
He reached for my ears, touching the tips, and I gasped when I touched them myself. Elf? “Not Zelda. Yes,” he took my hand again, and I was in black spandex, armed with several different weapons. My hair was black now, and my jaw dropped open as I turned to my brother. “Lara Croft. Fuck yeah.”
“Video games?” I held a Walther P99 in my hand and could feel the knife tucked securely against my thigh. “Your power is video games?”
“Dad has magic, he came to me months ago, in the dungeon,” he hurried, looking up at the sky. “You’re waking up. Listen. Between the three of us, we can fucking own them all. It’s up to you to bring them back here. From the past. Hurry. And then I’ll break out of my cell. I have access to any weapon I want,” he wagged his fingers again, and held a grenade in his hand. In seconds he pulled the pin and threw it into the ocean, and a shrieking siren sounded in the distance. “Plan, Eva.”
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