Chapter 27

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An object at rest remains at rest…until acted upon by an outside force.

Clouds.

Massive, fluffy, white clouds in a pastel sky. As far as Pollux could see. Stretching out in front of him like a plain.

Pollux never knew what to expect when he entered one of Kassandra's dreams, but, every time, the skies took his breath away. And, this time, the sky was all that lay ahead.

When he stepped onto the impossible, gray bled from his clawed feet into the firm cotton ground. A crackle of lightning sparked beneath him. Rain poured. Thunder shook the perfect soft world.

The perfection, naturally, had less to do with the picturesque beauty of the unfathomable and vast display and far more to do with her. Kassandra. His soulmate. His wife.

The answer to questions he'd pleaded with the universe about for so long.

Her red curls flowed over the pillows of white she was lying in. Her chest rose and fell with soft breaths as she watched the sky above her. Her nightgown tonight undid things in Pollux's brain, but he did what he could to ignore the silken hazel fabric as it shifted in tone with every sun shade reflecting off it.

Beautyhad no place being so simple a word.

Its ability to describe such a scene fell so very short.

It failed to convey a true rendition of the way just being here felt.

Feeling Kassandra against his skin in every breath, stepping through fragments of her, indulging the taste of her soul as it painted the unnatural world into his flesh…

If Pollux could acquire such peace in this manner even as periodically as Kassandra currently allowed, he may never have to self-medicate with liquor again.

"Are you irritated over how unrealistic this is?" Kassandra turned her face toward him, and his heart leaped. "I know it's not scientifically possible for a cloud to hold a person's weight. Or. Is it? Because before meeting you, faeries weren't scientifically possible, either." She lifted her hand, and he went to her, slipped his fingers into hers, and knelt. "I cried myself to sleep, dreamboy."

He swallowed. "I know."

"How?"

"I can taste the salt in the air."

"Exactly how much of me is revealed in here?"

Drawing her hand to his cheek, he closed his eyes. "Only what you have witnessed me experience. A dreaming mind has many doors, and often I do open them, but many of yours are locked. Furthermore, you are aware of what and who I am. I would not pry into your past or your thoughts without permission, regardless of whether my abilities would allow it. I am not here to craft nightmares out of the things you need to face."

"Would that help me?"

He opened his eyes, traced the delicate emotions still damp in hers, and bent to place a kiss on her forehead. "Perhaps. But we are being cautious and taking things slowly."

"Why? Why not just get it all over with? Rip it off like a band-aid." Pulling her hand away, she spread her arms at her sides. "Give me the nightmares. I'm ready."

"You'd have me run rampant in your mind?"

"Sure."

"Then you'll unlock the doors I need access to in order to effectively unravel you?"

Her lips pursed, and her gaze snapped to him. "Hey, now. I didn't say that."

Smiling, he lay beside her, let his nails graze her arm, and clasped her hand before drawing it to his heart. "Talk to me."

Silence broken by the pound of rain beneath him lingered for several long moments.

Then, her fingers gripped his tighter as she turned to face him. "Willow and Alana are lovely people."

"They are."

"But do they even know what responsibility is?"

"Alana is a princess. She helps manage meetings and paperwork and kingdom relations each day. She has also taught herself near a dozen languages that allow her to hold her own when she goes with Cael to other domains based in other countries. All while she struggles with depression. Willow has been living by herself on an inheritance left to her by her grandmother for a decade now. Within the past few years, she has taken it upon herself to run Ollie's career as his PR and advertising manager…and I think she just became Brittny's agent, securing her a publishing deal with InkPaper within the past few months."

Kassandra pulled her hand from his, pushed herself up, and stared. "I'm sorry. What?"

"Maturity and responsibility are difficult to judge in situations where neither is called for." Pollux lifted his hand to push back the waterfall of his wife's curls. She really was…so breathtakingly beautiful. "The fae understand that appearances can be faked, so we put very little energy into caring about them at the common level here."

"At the common level?"

"Those in positions of nobility often must use more tools in order to effectively manage delicate balances. Also, there are places in Faerie where the cultures are built around less kind concepts. In those places, it is wise to be wary and play our weaknesses as strengths."

Her lips fell into a delicate frown. "I know less every minute." She dropped her face against his shoulder, wrapped her arms around his chest, and held tight. "It makes me want to scream."

His heart jumped.

"Tell me what I'm supposed to do, Pollux. It feels like I've spent too long embedding a list of other people's rules in my skin. I'm a collection of scar tissue. It hurts just to breathe. I don't know how to be correct anymore, but…" Her face lifted, and her eyes begged. "…I do know how to follow instructions if they're clear enough. Please just give me actionable steps. Where do I go from here? If I can, I'll do anything you tell me if you tell me it will help."

She was going to give him a heart attack. He fought to get a breath in his lungs as heat boiled beneath his skin. Thoughts fled his mind.

Steps.

Actionable steps.

Those were his favorite kind.

All the better if they were numbered.

But he…

Right now, he just wanted to kiss her.

He wanted to bury her in the clouds and toy with the hem of her nightgown until the slick sensation of the silk found its way into every minute that followed when he exited this plane. He wanted to abuse the trust her words were supplying him.

He wanted to suggest he knew exactly how to make her feel better than she had ever felt before…

Which, of course, was ludicrous, as he had never once toyed with the things his brain was entertaining now.

"You can't?" she asked.

"I am removing my mind from unhelpful locations."

Red glazed her cheekbones. "I obviously don't mean…" She turned away from him and sat up, entirely oblivious to the way her hair fell across her back. "Ugh. I'm having a crisis, and you're thinking about—" Breath filled her as she crossed her arms. "You're the worst."

"You baffle me."

She glanced over her shoulder at him as he also rose. "I baffle you?"

"Often, yes. This idea that you seem to believe you are not seduction itself to me and I am ‘the worst' for the moments I can't help but acknowledge that truth baffles me."

She glared, twisted toward him, and sneered. "Your love is fickle, and your priorities suck."

He gripped her chin. "My mind is weak to you, but never call my love fickle again. I have faced centuries alone without a scrap of hope. You cannot begin to comprehend how deep my love for just your existence goes."

He watched her swallow as her eyelids drooped.

His heart tripped. "You… Are you…trying to provoke me?"

"Keep talking, dreamboy." Her fingers rose and fell against his wrist, barely hanging on. "You make it easier to pretend I'm not hurting so much."

His fingers trembled as he slipped his thumb along her chin—dark nail to warm, pale skin. He could hardly help himself. He kissed the spot where her jaw met her neck. "Dearest, all will be well. You were not given to me as a punishment to either of us. It has all been miraculously designed with purpose, intent, and kindness. The things you care about were taken into consideration before you were formed. Any sacrifices you might be asked to make in order to gain the future you are meant to have will not leave anyone you care about worse off."

Her fingers tangled in the hem of his shirt as she leaned into his pressure. "I don't like change. Better or worse. It's too much for me to handle, especially when it comes unexpectedly."

"You need control."

"Yes."

"Yet you have spent so much of your life giving it up?"

She stretched the fibers of the magic he'd woven into the clothes he wore. "The rules I've been taught help me make sense of my reality. When they are clear, following them feels like a type of control."

He pulled back. "Look around you, Kassandra. Your reality is more beautiful than any of the humans in your life may ever be able to understand. You are so much more than you have been taught is acceptable."

"How do I atone for not always sharing that with my littles? How do I apologize for not believing Meda? How do I move forward correctly with so much new information? It has to be right. I need things to be right, Pollux. What are all the new rules? Are there any that make sense of why humans have things so terribly wrong?"

Pollux watched as a tear formed and flowed past her lashes. Golden. If she had been crying into her pillow earlier…who knew what residue might remain. Who knew if she would even be able to perceive the magic of her own self before she was claimed and the glamours of Faerie fell away.

"Well?" Her voice cracked.

"You would not wish to follow them if I told you."

"Don't act like you know me if my doors are still locked."

Lifting her face, he caught the trail of her tear on the tip of his tongue, let the pure magic consume him, then he kissed the corner of her eye. "Don't forget that you showed me moments when you thought you were alone in your head. I don't need to see beyond your locked doors to know you are someone different entirely when you believe no one else can see you."

"The word for who I am when I believe I'm alone with a pretty figment of my imagination is skank, Pollux. We've been over this. I'd like to believe my true character is someone other than an affection-deprived adult."

"You continue to neglect my response to that degrading assessment."

"For your information, I'd be ashamed of wanting anyone. It has nothing to do with you."

He hummed. "When others hurt us, it rarely does."

"I'm sorry I hurt you."

"I'm sorry you've been taught that your needs and the rawest presentation of yourself are unacceptable."

She straightened. "Excuse me. You don't need to go that far."

"I think I do." He twisted her fingers out of his shirt, gripped her wrists in one hand, and pinned her back to the cloud. "If we get technical, I probably need to go farther."

Wide-eyed, she stared at him, lips parted. After a long moment, her body tensed, aware, and she snapped, "What do you think you're doing?"

"This is your domain. Nothing is out of your control." He flashed a sharp smile. "Except me."

He could spend decades touching kisses to the heat that rose to her flesh. She locked her jaw, tilted her head back to look up at her restrained hands, then provided a meager tug against his hold.

"Rule one…" he murmured, gliding a nail up the column of her throat. "No more forcing smiles."

Her gaze flung to his eyes.

"Rule two… Say what you mean."

She grimaced. "That goes over very poorly. It offends people, or causes me to share way too much information."

He dipped a kiss to her throat. "I love information. Try it right now."

"Nope. Absolutely I will not be doing that."

"Tell me what you want. Who else is here to judge you or say it's wrong? Come on, dearest." He flicked his tongue out against her skin. "I'm your soulmate. I can't lie. I will never seek to humiliate you. I adore you. I find every moment I've spent with you enrapturing. Practice with me."

"Isn't this humiliating?" she whispered.

"Does it feel that way to you?" Lifting his head, he pressed his forehead to hers, soaked in the heat of her, lost himself in her scent. "For which one of us? You are undoing me."

"This is going to mess me up in the morning," she muttered.

"Marvelous. If it does, come see me for breakfast, and we can continue outside this realm."

She shivered.

He loved that.

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Is being honest correct according to your rules?"

She refused to meet his eyes. "Yes, and no. Being honest comes with complicated rules."

"Are complications correct?"

"Complications are life."

"Why?"

"Because. Nothing is ever as simple as…as I think it should be. Feelings are messy, and words hurt, and honesty can result in pain. Forgetting to present something appealing to other people makes them uncomfortable. People don't like you when you make them uncomfortable. And when people don't like you, it makes existing around them harder."

"So…what you're saying is…interactions with the humans who don't accept you still matter to you?"

Her teeth bared. "It's not that easy. I need to maintain certain relationships, Pollux. I can't just be myself. Real life without faeries and vampire cats and princesses with wings is not that flowery."

He smoothed the lines between her brows with his thumb. "You're anticipating what I mean and not listening to what I'm asking. Answer the question only. Those interactions, maintaining those relationships with people who don't accept you, matter?"

"Yes. They matter."

He nodded. "So, you must handle them as you would around the fae nobility, dearest. No less yourself even if you must garb the truest pieces in games of mischief in order to gain your desired outcome."

The tension in her shoulders released. "How?"

"It starts with figuring out what the truest pieces of you look like. It starts—" He squeezed her wrists. "—with giving up a little control…in order to get a better grasp on what real control looks like."

She shrank.

"Talk to me."

"I don't…want to."

"I will not use your words against you."

She squirmed, adjusted her position the best she could, looked away from him, puffed a breath out her nose. "I ate breakfast with you Friday. And I was gone all day today. My parents are going to start thinking I have friends if I eat breakfast with you again so soon, especially when we have dinner plans we need to solidify sometime."

"You do have friends."

"I do have friend. I have Zahra and some acquaintanceships. And then there's you. I don't even know what you are."

"I'm your husband, your dreamboy."

"I will not be explaining that to my parents at this juncture."

He chuckled. "You look comfortable."

"Regrettably, I feel comfortable."

"Regrettably?"

Her eyes closed. "Sorry. See? I shouldn't be allowed to speak my mind even a little bit." She flinched. "I don't mean… I just thought I was better than…" She bit her tongue. "I'm shutting up now."

"Should we trade places?"

Her hands balled into fists as she dared to crack one eyelid. "What?"

"So I can show you what it looks like to be utterly enamored and helplessly entranced? So I can tell you how much I enjoy it? So I can beg for more, because I love you, and your touch, and your attention, and everything you are willing to offer without any shame…because it isn't shameful to be vulnerable in front of the right people…because the right people won't hurt you or ask you to be different. To me, Kassandra, you are everything that is right—perhaps explicitly the pieces you find to be the most wrong."

Her cheeks bloomed in deeper shades than her hair. The entirety of the sky above Pollux and Kassandra took on the hues, plunging them into a crimsonscape.

Releasing a breath, Pollux swore, slipped the backs of his fingers up her cheek, and traced his touch around the curve of her ear. "I won't tell anyone what happens here," he murmured.

She pressed her lips together and watched him before whispering, "I hate how much I like you."

His heart leaped, and his smile broadened. "You like me?"

"A lot. Against my will. And better judgment."

"Better judgment?"

"You're a man with magic powers and claws who has me pinned in a dream I didn't invite you to. Do I have to explain why this power imbalance is disturbing? I can't even rest without the chance you'll come for me. It's psychological warfare that plays on my already excessive exhaustion. I'm down to my final nerve, and you're standing on it."

"You're far more powerful than I am."

She arched a brow. "If that's true, you still have more experience. Even weak weapons are more dangerous in the hands of someone who knows how to use them. Even a gun fails to work if someone can't aim. See Storm Troopers for reference." She searched his eyes. "It's illegal how pretty you are."

"Cael has yet to reprimand me on those legalities."

She exhaled a laugh. "You're smart, pretty, and funny, too. It's really not fair. I have no natural defenses against these things."

"I feel the same way about you."

"I'm just like any other girl. What am I supposed to do in the face of someone who is both tender and confident in his masculinity?"

He kissed her blazing cheek. "Succumb?"

"You wish, don't you?"

"My greatest wishes have already been granted, Kassandra." He traced her cheek with a nail. "Every last one has been realized in you."

"Not one big on ambitions if your greatest wishes conclude with getting a romantic relationship, huh?"

He shook his head. "You are the reason Meda has freedom. You will be the reason I someday do as well. My future with the family I have made, the family that has found me, the family that has chosen me, and the family I have chosen is brighter thanks to you."

She searched his eyes. "What am I?"

"Majestic."

"You know what I mean."

He kissed between her brows. "Practice attaining true control, and I will not only tell you what you are, but I will also train you."

"Do you not trust me or something?" she murmured.

"I trust your character, not your ability to navigate even more knowledge when you are already so heavily weighed down. I promise I am acting in an effort to protect you."

Her lips twisted. "From myself?"

He combed his fingers through her curls. "From burning yourself out even more." Cupping her cheek in his hand, he smiled. "I care far more about your well-being than about what you are capable of. I know the moment you understand what you can do, you will be looking for ways to use it for others. We're focusing on you for now, okay, dearest?"

"You're forcing me to be selfish in my ignorance."

His gaze drifted as he allowed those words to sink in. Then, he grinned. "Ignorance is bliss, the humans say."

Her nose wrinkled. "I've always hated the implication that joy is more important than taking accountability for knowledge."

"Secure your own oxygen mask first." He kissed the tip of her tight nose. "It is important that you are able to breathe when you seek to help others. Is it not?"

Her lip jutted.

"Is it not?"

She turned her face away from him. "Pollux."

"Yes, my love?"

He heard her heart thump beneath him and around him; the sensation excited him more than words could express.

Fierce and red-faced, she muttered, "Let's trade places."

So…they did.