Chapter 28

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Parent pressure >>> peer pressure.

It feels like I've walked into a children's cartoon where everything works itself out so long as you're true to yourself and rely on your friends. It's utter nonsense, of course. If the world ran on such blissful ideals, teachers would be paid more and a ticket to the Super Bowl wouldn't cost thousands.

Growing up, I spent so much time mimicking the characters I liked on shows. I spoke in their catch phrases. I practiced their expressions in the mirror. I got smiling down to a science, and that science wasn't a response to joy.

Often, it was a response to the absence of joy.

Smiles make things better for other people.

We're taught they convey friendliness and acceptance…as though bad people don't know how to use them. We're taught that people who aren't smiling have resting bad word face. Not smiling is a literal cause for derogatory labeling. It's okay to assume that people who aren't smiling don't like you, are mad, who knows.

All because they didn't lift the corners of their mouth correctly and constantly.

Being a human is exhausting.

Crawling out of bed, I pat Chai's tiny head. Today is my final day off before the brief stint of school prior to Christmas and New Year's break, and I'm already not sure I can handle tomorrow. Nevertheless, I take myself to the bathroom and begin my morning routine, pulling off my silk sleep bonnet and staring at myself in the mirror as my curls come undone around my shoulders.

Unsmiling.

My cheeks heat as memories of last night dance across my nerves.

But still I don't smile.

It just figures my soulmate is a monster man who encourages pinning in my dreams. Isn't that just fabulous?

Last night probably would have gone a lot differently had I not obliged Alana's comment about Pollux panicking if he smelled Castor on me. I don't know how exactly scent translates to the dream plane, but given that he could smell the salt of my tears, I'm thinking I did good by scrubbing myself to the bone before bed.

Pollux simply does not need to know I've met with Castor. Or that Castor touched me in any way remotely intimate. Something tells me if he knew, the conversation we entertained last night would have been a touch more monstrous.

Possibly.

Pollux does seem very calm most of the time.

And, yet, so did Zylus during movie night, and in the moments that directly followed when he was a giant shadow cat.

The man flipped a switch from Lovecraftian horror to pouting husband real fast.

Hm.

While I'm thinking about it…

Movie night.

Movie night is every Thursday.

Willow and Alana implied we would be watching Howl's Moving Castle this upcoming movie night, which means I'm invited, but I wonder if Willow would mind an extra guest.

Zahra…

I haven't told Zahra anything yet.

But what am I supposed to do? Interrupt the break she desperately needs in order to draw all her attention to me and how my life has exploded during the paltry five days we have off? I know she wouldn't chalk it up to I told you so. It just seems cruel to drag her into all of this.

Her comment about how the fae like me more than her burns whenever my thoughts drift her way.

Letting my head fall back, I groan, whimper, and press my hands to my face.

Stopforcing smiles and speak your mind, huh?

Well, guess what, dreamboy?

I don't even know how to talk to my best friend about this whole mess.

She already thinks the fae like me more! The last thing I want to do is confirm I'm something insanely powerful on top of being a very pretty dream eater's soulmate. Slapping my best, and only, friend in the face right after break is not how I like to spend my time.

Cold fingers close softly around my throat, and my eyes snap open.

"Shh," Castor whispers as he squeezes. "I just want to talk."

A swallow gets stuck somewhere beneath his hand as I shove myself away from him, plant my palms against the sink counter, and stare at the narrow space between me and the firmly closed door behind him. "How did you get in here?"

"I'm full of surprises."

Yeah, my life has been full of surprises recently. And, for the record, I don't appreciate any of them. Except my playground. My playground is acceptable, and I love it, and I need to appropriately find a way to thank—but also not thank—Andromeda for it once I've gotten my head screwed on straight.

A chill works its way down my skin, raising the hairs on my arms. "What do you want to talk about?"

"You're Pollux's mate."

"So I've been told."

"You know he's unseelie."

I search the firm line of Castor's mouth. "I've been told that as well."

"Are you aware what you are?"

My heart dips as a horrible realization comes over me. When I asked Pollux if there were anyone who could reveal what Zahra was…he said Castor. If Castor has that ability, he probably knows what I am, too…

But.

Also.

I have no reason to believe he cares about me or my well-being in the way Pollux does. And Pollux made it very clear last night that learning what I am is not something else I need to grapple with right now.

"You aren't aware," Castor murmurs in response to my silence.

I clench my fists at my sides. "I don't want to know." The lie stings, physically, inside me, but I cling to it. "I don't want anything to do with this right now."

His head tilts, and his long white hair shifts with the motion. "No? Interesting. You don't want anything to do with what you are? Or anything to do with any of it?"

"I'm still deciding." I angle my head toward the shower curtain to keep from focusing anywhere near where his eyes are shielded beneath his blindfold. "Pollux is…very pretty. In case you didn't know. Having a pretty husband is a major pro point."

Castor laughs. "I suppose I've never thought of it before. Tell me…do you feel inexplicably drawn to him? Is there an overwhelming peace that consumes you in his presence? Do you see the beginning and end of all your pain in his eyes?"

"Is that what the soulmate bond is supposed to feel like?"

"Legends would suggest at least that much. I am wondering if you feel it, since you happen to be a different shade than the likes of Pollux and me."

"I know whatever fae I am is seelie. This isn't some drama where you get to sneak up behind Pollux and shatter my faith by revealing how he's manipulated or kept things from me. I know I'm part fae. I know that fae part is so powerful it mutes the effects of a dream eater's fear-soaked presence. I know more than I care to."

"You are incredibly skilled in the art of assumption. Bear in mind you have no idea what I seek to obtain from this. If I wanted to shatter your faith in Pollux, I'd focus more deeply on how he's kept the very title of what you are from you."

"Because," I grit, "I don't want to know."

"Human lies have an aroma, child. Don't suspect I don't know more than even you do of your own tangled emotions. You want to know. You want to make sense of everything. You want to place every detail into a perfect box, just as you have been trained to from your youth. It's all that has helped make the confusion of living in this world bearable. Rules. Regulations. Patterns and routines."

I bury my nails into my flesh, lock my jaw, and glare.

"I can't see your expression, but the tension you're pouring between us gives me enough information."

"What do you want, Castor? I'm not familiar enough with anything to be as brave as Alana and Willow are when they say you aren't bad and treat you like one of their friends."

Castor stills, lifts his face. "They say that about me?"

"They seem inexplicably fond of you, yes."

His teeth flash in a bright smile. "My villain girlies. I do quite adore them."

"You consider yourself a villain?"

He splays a hand, sweeping it gracefully away from himself. "Let's just say I am learning to embrace what I have been considered. Now. The point. Child, I would like you to lend me your power."

"And if I say no?"

"I will find a way to it that is less appealing than my current request."

"Kasserole!" Dad calls from the kitchen. "Breakfast is almost ready. How long are you going to be in there?"

"Kasserole?" Castor echos, humor in his tone.

"Hush," I hiss. "Just a few more minutes, Dad!" Lowering my voice again, I whisper, "Listen. I'm not afraid of you. I know better than to make agreements with strangers who can just appear in my bathroom. If you're not bad like Willow and Alana say, please leave me alone."

He hums. "I'm not bad like Willow and Alana say; I'm worse."

"Well, that's just fantastic."

"Sarcasm. The ease of it is probably among the few things I envy humans for having." Castor clasps his hands together before himself in the long black sleeves of his robe. "I am a man of chances, child. Have you supplied me with your final answer?"

"If there's something specific you need my unknown abilities for, ask me in more detail if I decide to come into them on my own. Depending on the roots of your request, I may not be unwilling to help you."

"Diplomatic. It is as though you've spent time in fae courts… Very well. For this moment, I shall consider your kindness and openness valuable. We will meet again." In the very next moment, he vanishes, leaving behind nothing but a few grains of stone on the bathroom floor.

Rushing through my morning routine, I hurry to the dining room table before Dad has to call me again.

"Morning!" I force my smile, because I'm a strong independent woman who doesn't need to listen to Pollux's rules…or worry my parents.

Mostly that second one.

I don't need to worry my parents.

"Morning, Kasserole." Dad kisses my forehead as he sets out a pan of eggs and a pan of fried potatoes with veggie sausage.

My mother, from her seat, laces her fingers together beneath her chin and grins. "How nice of you to join us today."

"Hm?" I push my hair back and refrain from straightening the silverware beside my plate. The fork is crooked. And the spoon is with the knife. Even though he's abusing her. What a perfectly sane thing to irritate me.

"It seems like you've been gone a lot this break. Nearly all day yesterday." Her eyes sparkle. "Certainly it would have nothing to do with Meda's father, right?"

"Have you married him yet?" Dad asks as he settles into his chair.

I laugh to cover up the internal screaming. "Real cute, you two."

As though summoned, my wedding kitten drags himself out of my room and to my ankles so he can beg a morsel from the table. I can't unfeel the way my heart jumps in response to his presence and all he stands for even though I pretend I'm perfectly fine while I serve myself some eggs. The contradictions between my nonchalant outside self and my shrieking inside self are glaring this morning.

True, I never agreed to put Pollux's rules into practice, but realizing exactly how often they would alter the way I act has me tasting sour with every bite and wanting to…cry. A little. At least.

It's my final day off.

Maybe I should stress crochet something.

Maybe I should stress crochet something for Pollux.

Like…an angry bee.

So he knows I'm not happy with this situation, but I also inexplicably want him to have something cozy to cuddle. Maybe I should stress crochet an angry bumblebee and appear without warning on his doorstep, frowning, because how dare he imply the smile I've worked decades on should be outlawed?

The rude monster.

The rude, beautiful monster.

Who pins me to clouds…

And says dreadful, wonderful things…

That make me feel…some kind of way.

To be certain, I'm not touch-starved. It's just nice to be touched by someone who isn't one of my relatives and who doesn't have sticky fingers.

"Are you thinking about him?" Mom asks.

I startle, remember to smile, and discover I'm buttering toast. "Him? Josh? I hope I don't need to adjust his curriculum again after testing." My dodging devolves into sincerity as my brows lower. "Crap. I think I forgot to ask parents to chaperone our ice skating field trip next Sunday, too…" Fancy that. It's like I've been distracted or something. "I need to figure that out. I don't like taking all my littles out in public with just Zahra and me." The rink is an hour away, too, not nicely tucked into the familiarity of Mountain Vale. "Yeah. I really need to get on that."

I'm halfway out of my seat with the rest of my food when Mom veers the conversation back to her point. "Why don't you see if Pollux would like to go with you?"

Dad lifts his chin and points his fork at me. "That's an excellent idea. People would think twice before messing with a big man like him."

"And it could be like a date," Mom adds.

My heart jumps, and my smile evaporates. "It's not a date. We'd be there to protect the littles. Also, he'd have to complete a background check before next Sunday."

Mom's brows rise. "Do you think he wouldn't pass?"

"Or he'd be unwilling?" Dad comments.

I press my lips together. I do not know how to express the fact I don't know whether or not Pollux has a background to check. He's fae. He lives in a phantom house. Does he even exist to the human government? No idea.

"It can't hurt to ask," Dad says, with finality. "We won't be around forever. It would be nice to know you have someone to take care of you after we're gone."

"Dad!"

"Well," he states, "it's true."

I very strongly am against that truth. "All right. All right. I'll talk to Pollux about being a chaperone. And only a chaperone."

"Excellent!" Mom cheers.

I pretend my stomach isn't twisted into a million tiny knots as I cart my food to my bedroom, open my laptop, and regret all my life choices…