10. The Warrior

Failure. I am an utter failure when it comes to keeping my mate safe. Unable to protect her from the pitfalls of being a vampire. Even as she sleeps in my arms, I can see the events plaguing her. That human died. She now knows what it means to lose control of yourself. But this is different. She had been feral, crazed, and unyielding. It has to do with not merging her consciousness with the piece of wild predator that unlocks during the turning.

Pure speculation.

Rolando has been searching high and low for anything resembling what has happened to Wren. So far, no reported cases of vampires failing to merge with their counterparts and become one. At least, not one we have access to. He’s tried to retrieve information from her SIM card, and nothing. We search for answers day after day, and everything we try is a dead end.

Having no precedent leaves me in the dark about how to guide her forward and save her from this turmoil the next time she needs to feed.

Sure, I could supply her with blood bags for a time, but it isn”t a permanent solution, and we can’t reliably count on them to be available. Our supply comes from a local club. Vampires beguile humans who come and either feed on the dance floor or the human will be led to a room for donation. The blood is then circulated among the registered covens in the area, and the ones without covens can go to the club to try to feed.

It isn’t a perfect system, and there are times when the supply is limited, leaving us to our own devices of preying on the unsuspecting public of Callery. Using our abilities to keep ourselves concealed is everything. If Wren can’t control herself, the council will eventually take notice if she keeps killing.

New vampires are given a form of leeway initially, but she will be expected to get this under control sooner rather than later. I remain convinced the issue lies with her divided mind. This has to have been brought on by the head trauma during the accident, erasing her memories, causing her to reject the new part of herself during the transformation, and leading her to where we are now.

None of that will help me fucking fix it.

I stay up all day, watching her. Making sure she doesn’t struggle in her dreams, ready to rouse her the moment she does. She is strong, determined to stand up for herself, up for anything that comes at her. But in a way, she is also fragile—my little bird. I want nothing more than to fix everything.

I think up ideas of what we can try. The direct approach, her purposefully antagonizing her other self and trying to force a merger that way. Meditation, maybe slipping into a state of relaxation, would allow it to come together. And then there is the issue of memory. Will remembering who she is fix this? Will it be enough to force another attempt at the merger?

So many possibilities, and I hope one works.

Evening comes quickly enough, and Wren informs me she doesn’t want to come down yet. I know I should respect her wishes, so I don”t press the issue, but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to get help fixing this.

“Chandra,” I call to him from across the living room. He is a quiet fellow, turned by Leland in India when I was not with him. Rolando had gone with him on that trip, and when they returned, they encountered Zach. Chandra saved his life and they have been inseparable ever since. Everyone can tell that Zach and Chandra love each other very much. Quiet by nature, neither of them have ever confirmed that they are mates, but with the frequent silences they hold, I would place money they are speaking in each other’s minds. I’ve never heard of same-sex couples forming a mate bond, but I can’t imagine it’s impossible.

He stands before me, a knowing look on his face.

“You’d like my help with your Wren.” It isn’t a question and I am immediately at ease. He’s always had that effect on people. “You’d like me to see if I can help her merge with herself, or at the very least, guide her towards her lost memories, correct?

“If you would, please. I don’t know how else to help her.”

“This is certainly uncharted territory for all of us, my brother. I am delighted to help.” His graciousness knows no bounds—a skilled fighter, deadly with hand-to-hand combat and with his blade. According to what I’ve picked up over the last hundred years, Chandra is proficient with the Khanda, a double-edged sword. He had illegally trained in and mastered Kalari, a martial art banned when he was coming up as a young man. Sparring with him can be terrifying.

I love it.

Still, with the heart of a warrior and a supreme predator’s abilities, he is a tender and gentle man. Friendly to all life, I’ve seen him soothe many wild beasts. Can he soothe my mate’s inner beast? To hear her talk of it, the inner demon might be more accurate.

“Would you mind coming to talk with her? Maybe you’ll have an idea of something that can be done?” Chandra nods at me and follows me back upstairs.

Wren doesn’t seem keen on the idea but is at least willing to try. Outside, Charlee and I sit together, watching them intently. Chandra moves Wren’s body through different stances like a beautiful dance. Helping her to control every part of herself, every muscle. Focusing her mind and teaching her to hold power there. He adjusts her elbows by a fraction, increases the bend to her knee or the distance in her stance.

Every movement must be precise.

Perfect and total control of her body.

Directly confronting her other self hasn’t worked. Wren said she’s tried multiple times but can’t make it fall into place. She is blaming herself for being too scared of the beast within. Maybe this will boost her confidence.

“A change of scenery?” My sister asks.

I hadn’t been paying attention to her. “What’s that?”

Huffing her irritation at me, “What if she just needs a change of scenery? You know, get off this damn mountain and out in the real world.”

“I don’t think th-”

“She has been stuck here for almost two weeks, with just us to look at. No memory, only able to see her family on television. Hell, her damn boyfriend woke up, and all she knows is she’s sad when she thinks about him. She’s forgotten what it’s like even to be human anymore. No wonder she can’t channel empathy and not kill them.”

A harsh laugh chokes from my throat. I don’t think that’s the answer, but I add it to the pile of things to consider.

The next couple of nights are much the same. Wren works with Chandra, now able to take the required stances and have him make minimal adjustments. Watching them move together in fluidity is beautiful. My coven mates seem to cycle through and watch. Rolando one night, Zach another, though he is always near because of Chandra. Even the triplets make an appearance.

So far, no one can offer insight other than what I’ve already considered. I run my hands through my hair, frustrated and feeling useless.

Meditation hasn’t worked.

Apparently, the other part of herself is just too damn stubborn.

Or Wren is.

I am beginning to suspect that she doesn’t truly want this to work. I don’t blame her. Every time she speaks aloud to her other self, it seems as if the conversations shake her. Whatever it is saying to her is not instilling confidence in the merger. I want to look inside her mind, but that would mean revealing the bond, I still refuse to force that on Wren.

I have grown exceedingly fantastic at blocking her thoughts from mine. Usually, when I am distracted, she will filter through, but it seems to be coming second nature to me.

I decide to move back into my room. Being near her, kissing her, and holding her is enough. The sexual frustration is bothersome, but we have developed ways that get us around that while still keeping that boundary I need.

I smirk as I think of it. I want to spend days losing myself in her body. I hope one day soon to do just that.

Helping Wren merge with her other self has been one massive failure.

The stress of the situation makes me feel older. If I could age, I would have acquired more wrinkles and gray hairs over the last few nights than ever before. A sing-song voice beside me makes me groan.

“Change of scenery.”

Charlee won’t let it go. Her eyes, outlined in dark colors, make her look like a raccoon, and this little tidbit of what she considers genius, is the bright shiny object she won’t let go of.

“I’m willing to try it if she is,” finally relenting. It goes against my instincts, but I am desperate to help my beloved.

My sister looks far too pleased with herself and is practically skipping when Wren and Chandra conclude their session for the evening.

“Just go to a bar and pick up some random human?” Wren’s face screws up in disbelief. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Hear me out. You eat some donor blood before we go, so you’re not even hungry when we get there. You get out of here, practice all the self-control stuff Chandra has taught you, and have a light snack. Ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom, in and out, easy peasy, lemon squeezy.” Her eyes are bright with excitement as if everything is just that simple. “I’ll be with you the whole time. You’ll be fine.”

I take Wren’s hand in mine, bringing it to my face and brushing it against my cheek. Turning it and placing the softest of kisses, I give my oath. “I will be with you the whole time as well, lit-”

“NO, you won’t.” Charlee looks like an angry demoness.

Brow furrowed, I feel Wren tug her hand away, and when I open my mouth to speak, she stops me. “Charlee’s right.”

The sting of her rejection is more wounding than the sword that started the end of my life. It is as if she’s ripped my heart out of my body and holds it in her palm simply because she can. My sister’s look of victory is detestable. “Wren, I-” My words fail me.

With a gentler expression on her face this time, she reaches for my hand again and brings it to her chest, clutching it with both hands. “Oz, you’re not going to be there every time. I need to learn to do this on my own, and rely on myself.” Her eyes close, and she takes a deep breath before opening them again, a sort of fury behind them.

Ferocity.

“I am strong. I am not a weak creature that needs to be protected at every turn.”

I’ve been smothering and inserting myself into every aspect of her nights.

Hovering near her like a worrying hen over her chicks.

Wren is right. She absolutely can do this without me. If she fails, she’ll fail because it wasn’t meant to be yet. If she succeeds, she does because she’s put in the hard work and earned it. Though my instincts tell me to protect her from the world doesn’t mean I should.

They are right, and it pisses me off.

Swallowing down my pride isn’t easy. It hurts like a scorching iron going down my throat. But I will do anything for Wren.

Anything.

“Very well, then I will support you from here.” Despite how hurt I had been just moments before, the smile Wren gives me now heals all of my wounds. She needs me to trust her. She needs me to let her take care of herself. They are right, a time will come one day when I won’t be able to be there, and if she grows too dependent on me, she will never flourish into the creature I know she can be.

I will not suffocate her.

I will build her damn wings from my peeled flesh and bones if it means I’ll see her soar.

The next night, when I watch her ride away with Charlee, looking like a haunting angel, I decide to bury myself in my art. I have been planning a new piece for some time, a surprise for Wren. She can watch me create something the next time. Heating my forge, and laying out all of my metal sheets, already etched with the markings of where I need to cut, I began to bend and mold the metal to my whims.

All the while waiting for my little bird to return home.