4. Skel

4

SKEL

I slammed the door of the dorm room I shared with Dex. My heart thundered so hard in my chest that my head pounded in sync. A quick scan of the room told me Dex wasn't here, but I didn’t even have to check. I’d never seen him so fucked up as I did when he was giving Pandora—our fucking fated mate— CPR.

He’d be out for a while.

I slumped against the door, my fingers trembling as I played with the white strands of my hair. Vanilla and smoke clung to me like always, but I was missing the caramel scent of Pandora’s. I fucking craved her scent to be intertwined with mine more than anything.

The smoky scent was a comforting reminder of my fae pipe that I hadn't reached for, though. After leaving her with Nyx and Darkmore, I couldn’t muster the energy to take a hit.

I’d had my lips on hers, breathing air into her lungs tonight—and I was the reason she’d run from us in the first place. I was the reason she fell into the water and drowned. All because I couldn’t fucking control my magic.

My mind raced, replaying the vision of Darkmore’s fear over and over again. I hadn’t meant to lose control with him or make him see his greatest fear…but I had. Indirectly, I’d seen the past. I’d fucking seen what Darkmore did, and I was just as scared as he was of it happening again.

The blood coating Pandora in the illusion had obscured so much. Now, I knew about the scars on her thigh. Scars that were proof of her pain and survival—and it fucking hurt.

Had Hunter known about them? It was like he had shut down after seeing them at Odyssey Bluff. I felt his fear double after his eyes raked over her thigh, and he was her counselor. He was on the fucking council with her father.

Surely, he knew what she’d been through, but…I didn’t think he knew about those scars. He was too surprised. He was too angry—and he was too fucking traumatized from the sight of them.

Just like we were.

“I was so scared of her,” I muttered to myself, voice cracking. “So scared of dying and what she represented that I didn't fucking realize I was hurting her… no …I didn’t care that I was hurting her.”

That was exactly it. I didn’t care she was getting hurt—all I wanted was to fucking terrorize her the same way she was terrorizing me. She was everything I was afraid of—and yet, all I wanted was to be around her. It fucked with my head— she fucked with my head, and she had no idea.

I remembered the way Pandora had smoked with me. Her presence was a soothing balm to my soul. She’d been so sweet, introducing me to Nebula and sharing my love for cats. And I just…threw it back in her face. I was a complete asshole to her because she had the power to kill me. And on top of that, I’d been so pissed that she was afraid of me.

Why did it even matter? Everyone was fucking afraid of me, and I had wanted her afraid. She wasn’t even the only demon capable of killing me.

My breath hitched.

So why had I treated her like that?

“Fates dammit!” I croaked, the words echoing in the empty room.

Desperation clawed at me as I fumbled for my tablet in my bag, my hands shaking. I hit Dad’s contact, and when the call connected, I couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

“Dad,” I choked out, my voice raw. “I messed up. I messed up so fucking bad.”

“Skel, what's going on?” Concern laced his tone, but the urgency was still there. “Are you okay?”

Dad had always wanted to fix everything, and I loved that man for it.

“Remember that fear illusion I asked you about? It was real ,” I said through gasping breaths. “She was abused—chained up and abused her entire life before coming to this academy. Just like that fear he had. It was her. She has scars carved into her thigh . I—I’ve been so scared of her, Dad.”

“Skel—”

“She’s a soul eater, Dad. Ever since watching those demons die in the village because of me, death scares me. I’m a fear demon, but I let fear fucking control me. I made her afraid of me, but I got upset that she was scared of me. Of my powers. It just…it sent me into a blind rage when she was around. I’m not even sure what was going through my head. I’m not proud of any of it, but I was scared of her and mad at her and the world, so I pushed her away from the start.”

“Slow down, son?—”

But I couldn’t. I had to voice all of the shit I’d done wrong.

“I let her close once and found out how sweet and kind she is, but I let my fears control me—fuck—I—I’ve taunted and teased her. I’ve been a complete asshole to her.”

I poured my fucking heart out to the only one left in this fucking world that cared, and I couldn’t stop.

I told him everything.

“Woah, hold on, Skel,” he said more forcefully, and I snapped my mouth shut. “Breathe for a moment. Give me some context here. Who is she?” Dad’s voice was still smooth, calm.

He was everything I wasn’t.

“Pandora Gravesend—my fated mate.” I hiccuped. “The bond just snapped in place at the worst possible time, and she hates me. My fated mate hates me.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line before Dad finally spoke. “Did she reject you?”

My heart shattered at the question, and I stilled. “N-No. She hasn’t…but I wouldn’t be surprised if she did. I’ve been awful to her, Dad.”

“Skel, she's your mate. If you were that terrible to her, you have to make it up to her. If she hasn’t rejected you yet, odds are, she won’t, but you still have to at least try to make amends.”

“But how?” I asked, the question barely above a whisper. What could possibly be done to fix the damage I’d caused?

Dad sighed. “I can't fully understand the pull of a fated mate, but if I were in your shoes, I'd be begging for forgiveness. Get on your knees and apologize properly. A fated mate is a part of your soul. Don’t give up on that.”

My breath caught in my throat.

That was it.

For a demon, getting on our knees was a huge gesture, a sign of absolute submission. Demons never bowed to anyone, so getting on our knees? That would be the perfect gesture—one she deserved.

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. “Of course. I’ll do whatever I have to. I’ll never give up on her. Dad, can I—will Kat talk to me?” I fisted my hair in my hand. “I need my sister. She’ll know what to do.”

“I'll pass along the situation to Kat,” Dad said, not even attempting to seek her out. Kat must’ve told him not to let me talk to her before he answered. It broke my heart a little bit more. “She'll help you figure this out, but…she just isn’t ready yet.”

“Right.” My voice cracked. “My soul feels like it’s breaking because I fucked up with my fated mate. I need my sister’s advise now more than ever.”

“I know, son.” Dad sighed. “But she just needs more time.”

“Time. More time. Of course she does.” I scrubbed a hand down my face. “Just…tell her to call me or maybe call me after you talk to her?”

“Of course I will, but I can’t promise anything.”

When the call ended, a hollow ache settled in my chest.

I understood why Kat needed time. She’d watched me basically slaughter an entire village, but she was my sister. I needed her.

Fear magic leaked out of me uncontrollably, casting dark shadows that twisted and writhed around the room, almost like Dex’s shadow magic.

I needed to get out of here. I wanted to go to Pandora, but I knew I wasn’t welcomed near her right now.

Turning, I grabbed my bag that I’d filled with leftovers earlier that day and wrenched the door open. Storming out, I made my way out of the dorms, off campus, and straight to Rapture Cavern.

The full moon lowered in the sky already, but it still bathed the desert in a pale light. My brain was static once I reached the cavern, inhaling the familiar tangy sandstone scent.

Comforting purrs filled my ears as the cats darted out of the darkness to greet me. They rubbed up on my legs, meowing loudly.

Their kindness was a temporary balm for my pain over how I’d treated Pandora, but it helped to be around them. Though, if the cats knew what I’d done to my fated mate, I knew they wouldn’t be so nice.

“I know you guys are probably hungry, huh?” I knelt down, unzipping the bag and pulling out the storage containers of food for them to eat. I opened the lids and set them down. They usually ate three at a time, but I had two containers left before realizing they were all taken care of.

There was quite a few missing.

“Where are the rest of you?” I mumbled, taking count of the cats present.

Eighteen.

There were eighteen; there used to be thirty-three.

I sniffed again and noticed a faint, acrid smell of sulfur lingered in the air. My heart sank. “What happened?”

Even in the one place I’d found comfort in, something was wrong.

The Demon Capital was home to vicious predators, and the rural desert had the most. I hoped they just ran away and nothing got to them.

Regardless, I finished setting the rest of the food out and zipped the bag before collapsing to the sand. Maybe they would come back to eat.

Burying my face in my hands, tears flooded down my cheeks.

I felt so much. My head was clearer than it had been in months, and I couldn’t bring myself to take a hit of the pipe and numb the pain.

I deserved everything I felt right now.

Her scars .

I couldn’t get them out of my head. I’d known she was hiding something under the wrap, but there were so fucking many of them.

I only had one—the long, deep cut down my eye.

Pandora had so many I couldn’t count them. They were sliced on top of each other. There wasn’t a scarless spot of skin on her thigh, and the biggest and deepest one wrapped all the way around her thigh. The way they were meant that she’d been cut countless times. I couldn’t fucking imagine the pain she had been in.

Seeing her lifeless body as Dex, Reed, and I gave her CPR made me realize something. My greatest fear wasn’t my own death anymore— it was hers.

I was scared of losing her.

The cats rubbed up against me as they finished eating. Their purring vibrations were a small comfort, but they tried. I appreciated that. It was so much more than anyone else had done in so long. Other than Pandora, when she’d woken me up from that fucking nightmare and smoked with me.

She’d been in my lap, smoking my pipe, laughing—smiling—and I took it all for granted. I pushed her away, and I had to live with the consequences of those actions.

There had been five calicos the entire time I visited last term, but only two remained—and one of them climbed into my lap with fierce determination.

I sniffled as I began to scratch behind her ear. “I'm so sorry,” I whispered, not just to the cats that had dwindled in numbers but to Pandora. “I’ll make it right. Somehow, I'll make it right.”