Chapter 5

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Expectations and obligations can turn to ash.

Bleary-eyed and exhausted, I stare down at my name—scrawled majestically—across the elegant eggshell envelope at my feet.

Zahra .

It is way too early for whatever nonsense that is, so I yawn and step over it onto my back patio into the sunlight.

In my arms, my baby fusses as though I didn't just change and feed him.

Touching a kiss to his forehead, I murmur, "It's okay. Let's get you a little sunshine." Cradling his face at an angle so his sweet little eyes aren't in direct line of the morning rays, I begin humming "You Are My Sunshine."

Somehow, blissfully, I forget everything else.

"It's okay," I whisper. "Mommy's here."

"What if he wants Daddy?"

Alexios's voice sends my heart into my ribs.

Turning sharply, I discover the dang yamachichi leaning against my house, head down, eyes fixed on his phone. I grimace. "You are not his daddy. He doesn't need a daddy. Daddies are disappointing."

Alexios spares me a half-second glance. "Agree to disagree."

"What are you doing?"

"Texting."

"Who?"

His lips curl in an insipid smile. "Nosy much? Your inquiry is soulmate level. Currently, you're on my unrequited affection plan. Upgrade to enjoy further perks." Finishing his text message, he drops his phone into his pocket and opens his arms.

I stiffen. "No. Mine."

"Yes, yes. Yours ." A level of ire laces the word. "But, tell me, has he not grown fussier with every hour?"

"That has nothing to do with wanting you ."

His smile is blinding. "Right again. So smart you are, snowflake. But, riddle me this: have you ever cared for an ent before?"

I scowl and don't bother responding.

"Now, I don't speak expression , but I think that frown of yours translates to no ." He takes a solid step forward. "You co-slept."

"I've done research. It's good for children to co-sleep. Safely. I know what I'm doing. You have no idea how long I've wanted to be a mother."

"And you know next to nothing about how to take care of an ent, which—last I checked—was a main reason I'm here." His calm disintegrates as a finality enters his tone. "Allow me to educate you. Don't let the baby pay for your pride."

My stomach clenches, but I force myself to humble, handing over my infant into his embrace. The second my baby's slight weight leaves my arms, unease riots inside me.

"Are you well?" Alexios asks.

"Peachy," I quip. "Tell me what I'm doing wrong, so I don't need you anymore."

Alexios's eyes roll, and he passes me to head toward a part of my backyard that sees a lot of foot traffic, leaving behind a stretch of trampled soil. Wordlessly, he unwraps my newborn and begins burying him . Emotionless, he drawls, "Dryads and ents require sun, water, and soil to thrive. In the absence of one, the other two are necessary. His crib is a dirt pile for a reason, Zahra." Letting my baby's tiny hands fill with dirt, Alexios murmurs, "Had I known sooner, I could have told you." He glares back at me, judgy . "I wonder how I may have been able to know sooner … Perhaps if I had not been sent to sleep in the cold…"

I cross my arms and lift my chin. "Don't you dare start with me. I will decimate you if you so much as try to guilt trip. You can't begin to comprehend the amounts of shame I've lived with for decades . There is nothing you could possibly say that would faze me."

Alexios's lip juts, but he looks back at my baby, plants a hand on either side of his little body, and leans over him to settle a kiss to the top of his sweet head without another word. The action is so tender it's almost a redeeming quality.

Unfortunately, the insipid faerie opens his mouth again after a few short moments, squandering the beginning of his redemption arc like a petulant villain no better than Bowser.

"You ignored my letter."

It takes severe will to drag my attention off my sweet child and glance at the letter laying neglected at my backdoor. "That I did. How long does my baby need to play in the dirt?"

"Have you not named your baby yet?"

"That doesn't answer my question."

He whispers, "Mommy is being so aggressive, isn't she, baby? No, I don't think she realizes it's setting a bad example for you." He nods, intent. "I know . If Mommy doesn't learn emotional regulation, what is baby going to do when baby is all grown up?"

Baby will, obviously, be helping Mommy hide the bodies of those who have wronged our little family.

Alexios stops my baby from eating a fistful of dirt. "I'm not sure you want to do that, tiny one. Pesticides aren't yummy, and Mommy's lawn has been treated. Only organic dirt for you." Gently, Alexios tilts his face from side to side, and I watch my baby's bright green eyes track the movements.

Swallowing bitterness, I regain my composure. "Ash Lynn."

"Pardon?" Alexios pins Ash's writhing hands to keep them away from his face and looks at me.

"I like the name Ash. It means happy . And it's a tree that symbolizes protection. I want him to grow happy and strong."

"And Lynn ?" Alexios prompts.

I clench my fist at my side. "Biblically…it means God has given ." After so many years, God has given me my baby. After I gave up, He still remembered my prayer. Putting my back to the two of them, I march up to the letter and huff. "What's this about?"

"I wrote you a letter."

"Wow. Appreciation, Captain Obvious."

The butt nugget blows a raspberry against Ash's cheek and whispers, "Does Mommy not know how to work a letter? Kids these days… No idea what a cassette is… Holding their entire palm against their ear and calling it a phone … Swiping the pages of a book…" He tuts.

I remind myself murder is wrong and my baby isn't old enough yet to help Mommy hide bodies…

I also allow myself to remember that grace is a skill best practiced. The fae are different than everything I'm used to. Clearly, if Alexios is willing to play with a baby on his hands and knees in the dirt, he isn't all bad.

The fae threshold for acceptable mischief is higher than a human's.

I'm not entirely unwilling to respect his courageous attempt at trickery yesterday. Especially if he's young and I'm his soulmate. Wanting to consume something precious is an immature craving that creates an illusion of stability.

I get that.

Really, I do.

I was stressed last night, and I'm tired this morning, but maybe I should exercise some cautious mercy. He's not even existed for a full year. Regardless of his mental age, there are some things people don't quite get without experience. Believing the worst of people might keep me safe, but it's definitely not what I've come to understand God wants from me.

Sighing, I pull the letter out of the envelope and arch a brow at the flowing script.

I…am offended.

Alexios is less than a year old, but he can write cursive better than I can read cursive. And I happen to teach cursive.

My dearest snowflake,

I implore you to accept this meager explanation as an apology for my behavior…

Finding you so soon in my existence is a miracle I have no intention of squandering. I am, however, overeager. My kind is bred to take. I struggle with desire and temperament. I have not known what it means to be full for as long as I have had the hormones to relay a sensation of starvation to my brain.

You are a promise from the universe to fill the aching parts of me.

Pair that knowledge with the pain, and I am desperate for relief.

I am loved.

But it never feels like enough.

I know that feelings aren't facts, but my birth itself is the result of logic's absence. Suffering and lies knitted themselves into my flesh and bone. At the foundation of my being, there is hollow agony.

I am loved.

But nothing fills the gaping hole in my gut.

Please understand, I want you at a compulsive depth. The sensations I feel that hint at your traumatic past are intoxicating and beguiling. I wish to own them and you, because ownership is safe. Ownership is security. Ownership is protection. Ownership is an alluring concept.

It was foolish of me to attempt to gain you so swiftly. Submission would only go so far to stave off my hunger, after all.

Therefore, I apologize. I have seen the error of my ways.

Control would not be enough for me, and you deserve a more enticing game.

So, here are the rules, if you choose to play:

1. I will never at any point neglect consent.

2. I will not attempt to cause physical harm—unless requested under specific circumstances.

3. I will express and respect any needs regarding a respite.

4. I will become your partner against the world, even if I am to be your adversary in private.

5. I will make myself worth your precious time.

Beyond this, anything goes, angel. Toy with me until you are satisfied. So long as you agree to play together, it may ease something in the toxic recesses of my heart.

Desperate to be yours if you are averse to being mine,

Xios

I blink past the distinct sensation of a fever dream, look sidelong at the man being ever so sweet with my little baby, then skim the letter a few more times.

Surely I'm not so bad at reading cursive that I'd think I've read what I just did, when he's actually written something completely different, right?

My eyes narrow, and I trace the fluid letters.

Mm. Yeah. No.

This totally says unless requested under specific circumstances after physical harm .

He can't be serious.

I know that faeries can lie in writing.

No doubt he's trying to get me to agree to something that will result in a bad ending.

Well, tough. This isn't my first chaotic dating sim.

Before I can open my mouth and call him insane, he says, "I can smell your trust issues."

My patience snaps. "This coming from the man with mommy issues ."

He bristles. "Excuse you. I don't have mommy issues. I am made of my mother's issues. There is a difference, and I can promise you I have no interest in being mothered ."

I wave his letter. "This makes it sound like you're interested in being bullied ."

"Oh. Excellent. I suppose I retain my ability to communicate intentions in a reliable manner."

"You want me to bully you?"

He touches a tiny kiss to Ash's nose. "I'm looking for more of a mutual arrangement. The sort where you don't get mad at me and make me sleep outside if I go too far. After all, I believe myself to be a compassionate individual capable of complex discussion." His face splits in a chilling grin. "I want mutual bully. Mutual power. Mutual respect. An understanding , if you will."

"And if I won't?"

He tsks. "Well, we will need to come to some sort of agreement. You have a stream scheduled tomorrow night, friends coming in on Friday to roleplay in this charming yard of yours, school starting again Monday." He hums, seeming much too delighted. "You require me in some shape or form if you're interested in keeping your baby and your jobs. Why not have fun with my existence? Make me sleep outside as a joke, not because you're upset. Allow me to get back at you in an equally humorous way. Anger is incredibly erosive. We can't change what we are to one another, snowflake. But we can be honest about our expectations and desires."

I've learned that honesty results in trust, and trust can so easily be taken advantage of. Letting anyone know what you want means handing them something they can use against you. Humans have no fail-safes. But faeries…faeries do. "Promise me you won't neglect consent. Out loud. So you can't lie or escape the oath."

He does not hesitate. "I promise not to neglect consent where it concerns touching you, snowflake. And, if you need added assurance that your consent is not limited to assumptions or verbal confirmation, I can sense the moment your feelings shift. I am not a dream eater like Pollux. I would not enjoy the flavor of fear on my tongue in most contexts."

"Only most contexts?"

Oh so sweetly, Alexios holds Ash's tiny gray fingers. "I make no promises where fear rises from my retaliation against someone attempting to hurt my family. I may be born from feelings of defeat…but spite is definitely something I've grown into."

I watch him for several long moments, and a niggling sensation rises in the back of my mind. It presses on my heart. Requesting I listen to it and react to the insanity of this situation with kindness.

I hate when I remember that I'm supposed to be kind to the people I don't like…

I hate it so much, I begin listing my very good reasons to ignore the rules this time. Like, excuse me, Sir, Lord of the Universe, Almighty and All-knowing, I'm currently holding a piece of paper that suggests the man you want me to be kind to wants to own me. Do You not see a problem with that?

In response to my hissy fit, I recall what Alana told me about Alexios's song being gentle and free of malice. I see how he is right now, with Ash. And, as a final blow, I remember that I am more than aware how dangerous people feel.

Not even Castor himself piqued the unrest that plagued my childhood.

Everything happens for a reason, blah blah blah. For He knows the plans He has for me…plans to prosper and not to harm.

Oh, great. Now God's writing an essay back at me, including references and drawing to mind Bible verses with the It Is Written energy we stan from the Judaean Desert arc.

After ages living beneath the hammer of religion, there's a certain peace in the knowledge that love allows choice and doesn't condemn mistakes. There's a certain peace in allowing my thoughts to roam honestly and include all my messy emotions without fearing that God will hate me if I don't suppress myself—even in my own mind.

My upbringing charged me—as a child who was barely provided enough food each day—to always be a witness .

If I don't feel safe, be a witness .

If I'm scared, be a witness .

If I'm in pain, be. a. witness.

My mother would pluck verses out of context that taught me it was my duty under penalty of burning until nothing remained to be a sacrifice.

Come to Me all who are weary did not work in her favor. My burden is light did not lighten hers.

So I only heard serve . I only heard give .

Guilt, to my mother, was proof God was working on my heart . So when I felt terrible for failing to meet her outrageous expectations, she said it was good . Too many times she looked me dead in the eye and glorified my pain.

I don't want guilt to be the selfish motivation behind what I do. In case no one told her, guilt isn't a fruit of the Spirit.

Our Father who Art in Heaven said, Come, let us reason together; not, Come, let me guilt-trip you into obedience .

It's been a while since I had to fight to remember where I stand in my own beliefs, not where my traumatic past chewed me up and spit me out.

Respectfully, God, I hate character development.

I'm…tired.

In ways that have nothing to do with waking up to feed a newborn every few hours.

"Zahra," Alexios says as he scoops Ash up and brushes the dirt off him to rewrap him in his blanket. Striding up to me, Alexios offers the wiggly little blessing I never thought I'd have. His stormy eyes meet mine as Ash's fragile weight returns to my arms. For a single moment, we're both holding him, then Alexios relinquishes my baby and steps back. "You know, you can give that to me. If you want."

"That?" I ask, the word empty.

"Your pain. I was made to carry it, if you are willing to let it go."

It's a tempting offer. And it sounds oh so familiar, too. But I know better than to trust the fae. "Why do you want it?"

"It's more palatable than green beans."

The hint of a smile lifts my lips. "What an interesting thing to say."

"Green beans are particularly disgusting." Hesitant, he lifts his hand. Slowly, his fingers uncurl and pin a straying lock of the long dark half of my hair over my ear. "Also…I do not enjoy watching you suffer like this."

Grasping Ash tight, I move back and turn my face away from Alexios. "I don't want a soulmate, Xios. I've never wanted a partner. I'm not interested in any of the same things you are."

Curiosity and wonder lilts in his tone. "Really?"

"Really. I'm a star nymph, right? And Pila is a tree nymph, isn't she? I'm told the dryads don't have soulmates because they don't want those kinds of relationships. We're from the same faerie family, so I think I'm probably like her. Not interested in romance or anything."

"An excellent theory, however, star nymphs have mates. Star nymphs crave many strong connections with people. To such an extent they flicker and fade without them. Not all members of a family act identically." Alexios tilts himself into my line of sight. Smiling, he says, "That said, if you don't want a romance, we don't have to have one." He searches my eyes, and for a handful of spare seconds, I feel…at ease with him. He continues, "Since I'm still growing accustomed to having skin, touch remains difficult and, often, overwhelming. If you were not born with a desire for it, maybe I will never grow into one either. We don't have to be lovers to be in love. Pleasure is so small a part in care."

My face erupts. "Whoa there, buddy. Watch what you say in front of my baby."

Mischief ignites in him, crackling. "No, I don't think I will. While he remains unable to understand us, I have no intention of curbing the expression of my affections." Alexios's eyes lower before he straightens. "I attempted to trick you, and failed, and made you angry. The experience is one I did not enjoy; therefore, I'll be direct now: I desire that you will come to rely on me in unhealthily dependent ways. I shall learn your needs and meet them, all while invading your waking thoughts. Once I am irrevocably your favorite, I shall be blissfully contented."

I do not miss a beat. "Ash is my favorite. I'd be a terrible mother if I valued you more than him, and being a terrible mother would break my heart."

Alexios's entire worldview collapses. His face falls. His attention drops.

In the exact moment I am watching an exemplary number of distressed thoughts stampede behind his eyes, I make a dreadful realization.

Having permission to bully this guy…could absolutely be fun.