5. Five

"Corentin."

The way she breathes his name is a warning, plea, and reassurance all in one. I watch, as if in slow motion, her eyes become lifeless, rolling back into her head. Her limbs go completely limp as she loses control over her body, sinking rapidly toward the ground.

My shadows shoot out of me without a command, wrapping around her, cushioning her protectively from any impact. I don't think twice, gathering her into my arms faster than the guys reach for her.

"I'm taking her to her room. Get Gaster and call Jamie. Something's going on," I demand forcefully, shrouding us in my shadows and moving us through the house in seconds, leaving the others to do as I said.

Laying her on her bed, I run my fingers down her face like I've done so many times to chase the darkness away. This darkness isn't receding, though. She's not responding at all. My magic flares out of me, trying to caress hers, rouse her, get her to move, something, but it lies there dormant, not reaching back out, not reacting, nothing. Just stuck.

Her motionless form seems to suck the life out of this room, making it cold, daunting. Nothing like its usual brightness. The brightness that causes me to sneak in here every night, unable to ignore the call of her sweet light. Even last night, sensing her nervous energy, I shadowed back to the house minutes after we left and stood in the corner, watching as Draken pinned her to her bathroom door. That tiny little red piece she had on made her glow in a beacon of sexy, needy confidence.

I left before he bonded with her, giving them their space and moment to enjoy one another privately, but as soon as I returned to my room, I had to free my painfully hard dick, and in a few firm pumps, I was shooting cum across my floor, her name falling from my lips.

There's none of that here now. No burning passion, no animation, no bright glow from her innocent wonder and awe. She's so still, too still. I have to hold my finger under her nose to make sure she's breathing because I can't see the rise and fall of her chest.

Although I spend most of my time stalking her in the shadows, I've tried in my own way to get closer to her since she came back. And each time I do, I can feel her melt the ice encasing my heart. The feelings she stirs in me are foreign, terrifying, and intoxicating. I battle my demons daily, knowing she knows the truth of what's happened to me, seen it with her own eyes through our awakening, yet I still hold myself back from her.

If I don't, I'll consume her fully. I'll burn through her light, encasing us in darkness. She knows this. She doesn't push me or distance herself from me. She just understands, fully, completely, unapologetically. She embraces my darkness, no questions asked.

"Is she awake? Is she okay?" Draken hollers as he comes bounding over and grabs her cold, limp hand. The other two burst through her door like raging bulls, Gaster closely behind them.

"I can't get into her mind. Something's blocking me." Tillman fumes, balling his fist by his side.

"No, we're not transporting her anywhere. I need you to get to the mansion now," Corentin orders down the communicator before hanging up on Jamie, I assume. We all surround her on the bed, each of them going to lay a hand on whatever piece of skin they can.

"Hold on, let me try to sense anything. If you all touch her, it'll throw the signature off." Gaster fusses, and they pull their hands back, watching intently as he hovers his above her body, moving them from her head to her feet.

"There's immense power mingling within her right now. It's not malicious. It's loving, protective even," Gaster tells us as he holds his eyes closed and continues to concentrate.

"Do you think her dragon emerging did this? Drained her so much she fell out like that." Draken's worried eyes bounce to each of us, praying for an answer.

"Her what?" Gaster's eyes shoot open, staring at him.

"She shifted this morning into a twenty-foot, beautiful, incredible, magnificent silver dragon, with hypnotizing purple eyes…" He trails off dreamily, running his finger down her arm.

"And she wields a fire element. Or at least we believe so seeing as she burst into flames before the shift took over." Corentin adds that important detail Draken left out.

"Oh, Elementra. There are big plans in the making for Willow. I'm not sure what, but we must be prepared. We cannot be na?ve in the belief she's safe because she's powerful. There's still much she needs to learn," Gaster whispers, placing his fist over his mouth and taking a steady breath.

"Jamie brought his whole Nexus. I'll bring them up," Tillman announces, heading out of the room, slamming her door behind him.

Gaster just spoke the fear that's been plaguing my mind since her second element emerged. All the circumstances surrounding her, it's been easy to assume she's meant for something. Something bigger than we can comprehend, but hearing it aloud is a petrifying fucking thought.

She's lived through so many horrors already. She doesn't need any responsibilities to be placed on her shoulders now that she's free from her shackles. No more than she'll already have one day once Corentin's able to tell her who the hell we are.

"Move, get out of my way. Where is she?" The Perfecta Anima busts through my Primary's room, her Nexus hot on her heels. "Willow. What happened?" she asks, shoving past me to get to her.

"We aren't sure. Another element and a gift emerged. So we don't know if it's exhaustion or something else," Corentin informs her as he takes Jamie's outstretched hand.

"What element? What's her gift?" she cries out, leaning over Willow, moving her hair from her face, cupping her cheeks.

"How about I check her over, babe? They can explain while I do that," Jamie says gently as he moves Oakly.

"A fire element and she's a dragon," I reply, clipped, not comfortable with all these damn people in here. This is her private space, where she can come and be her authentic self. Where I can come, let my own fears fall away, and watch over her.

"Holy shit. That's three out of the four and the rarest shifter known." Oakly gasps, ignoring my bad mood completely.

"Are you done?" I snap as Jamie pulls his hand back from my Primary's forehead.

"Yeah, I—"

"Everyone out. To the lounge. We'll talk about it in there. Gaster—"

"I'll stay with her, Caspian. You all can fill me in," the old man answers my unfinished question, no doubt sensing the rising tension not only in me, but I can see Draken restraining himself from growling every time one of the other men in the room gets near her things. Tillman and Corentin are playing it cool for the sake of their friendship, but I don't give a shit.

They're fine and all, but they're not my Nexus. She isn't my Primary. My little Primary is lying on her bed, unmoving, not sassing anyone, not making Draken laugh, not making Corentin softer, not making Tillman gentle, and she's not here to brighten my darkness.

She's just not fucking here.

Wading through the shadows, I pause before stepping out into the lounge. My concern's coming out as a simmering rage, with nowhere to boil over, no one to blame, and no one to punish. I wait until everyone's in there before I step out and lean against the wall.

"Did you find anything?" Tillman asks Jamie as soon as everyone sits.

"I could sense her exhaustion, but that's it. It's not draining enough that she shouldn't wake up soon. She doesn't have any injuries. Nothing's damaged in her mind. She's perfectly healthy."

Fucking idiot scientist.

"So what the hell do we do?" I ask.

"Even though you all aren't bonded, being near her will help, skin contact, talk to her. Treat it as if she were burned out and needs you to recharge. I'm sorry I don't have anything more, but there's nothing for me to heal, and other than this deep sleep, she's one hundred percent okay. If she isn't awake in twelve hours, I'll come back and check over her again. We'll figure it out." He stands, pulling Oakly up with him. "Come on, we need to get back to the academy."

"I need to tell her bye," the Perfecta Anima cries.

"I'll take you. We'll meet the rest of you out back," Jamie says to the rest of their Nexus, giving me a small nod.

Guess he isn't that big of an idiot.

Regardless, I step back into the shadows, following them to her room while Tillman, Corentin, and Draken walk the others out. Draken tried to argue, but Corentin told him to give Oakly a moment, that she was hurting too.

Yeah, they'd get no such courtesy from me. The time I spent away from her so far would be the only time spent out of her room until she opens those silver eyes that drive me fucking mad.

"I'm having trouble sensing her. I should sense her fine being so close. Why can't I feel her, Gaster?" Oakly bursts into tears, hugging Gaster.

"Something's blocking her bonds right now. There's an immense power keeping her asleep. They're letting me get a small read on their magic, only enough to let me know they're there. I assume the only ones who can feel her right now is her Nexus, and I have no doubt that's purposeful, keeping them from being destructive."

That's news to me. He must've been continuing to try to get through to her while we were out.

"So you think she'll be okay? She'll pull out of this, right?"

"Yes, there's no doubt in my mind. Willow's strong far beyond her own belief." He gives Oakly a reassuring squeeze, stepping back and letting her say her goodbyes.

"Come on out, Caspian." Gaster doesn't even turn around to acknowledge me as the two of them leave the room.

"You knew I was here the whole time."

"You've been trying to hide from me since your gift emerged, boy. It'll take you a few more centuries. Maybe then you'll outsmart me." The old fucker shoots me a mischievous wink, walking into her bathroom.

Sitting on the side of the bed, I hesitate for a moment, battling my demons, but the need for her wins, and I grab her hand in mine, bring it to my lips, and kiss each of her knuckles.

Wake up, Primary.

The twelve-hour mark came and left at an agonizingly slow pace. No change, no update, and all the scientist said to do was wait, continue to be close to her. The next twelve hours were even worse. Followed by the next, and now the next.

For forty-eight hours, we've barely left her side. Well, I haven't left her room, resorting to using her bathroom and bringing myself whatever I need from the shadows. The other three rotate their needs, one going, two staying, but no one's gone longer than a few minutes.

They slept in the bed with her the last two nights, cocooning her in their arms. I stand watch, sleep evading me as my darkness closes in.

Draken's told her countless stories of our teen years, rubbed her feet, brushed her hair. He even got in the bath with her, hoping to rouse her, but nothing, not a single eye flutter. Now he's entered the angry phase.

Tillman's repaired her rug three times because of the flames falling from his fingertips and scorch marks from his feet. He told him if he kept it up, he'd tie him to the walls with his vines, but he's fairing no better. Refusing to leave the room to even train, he's resorted to pushups, burpees, and jogging in place right here. Ry's having to take over his E.F. class because he's refusing to go to the academy. He's made her enough clothes, shoes, and sexy as fuck lingerie that she could wear a different outfit every day for a year and still have more choices to pick from.

Corentin. My poor brother is out of his mind. He's only stopped pacing long enough to shower, and I'm sure he was even doing it in there. He's slipped his emotionless mask on and has been barking down the throats of anyone who dares call him. Every five minutes, he walks to her side, checks her breathing, adjusts her covers, then continues his pacing. This is the routine he's developed since we've locked ourselves in here. It's the only thing he has control over at the moment.

In the last twenty-four hours, conversation has become nothing but snippy remarks and jumping down each other's throats. If we can't find something to discuss, we're going to end up going to blows with one another. They all need a break from this room.

"You were interrupted once again, brother, when you tried to tell her the news," I say to break the tension-filled silence.

Not that it's funny, but I can't help the smirk that slips thinking about how she shoved the shit out of Draken when he tried to touch her when she was preparing to shift. I doubt she realizes the strength it takes to move him off his feet and she sent his ass straight back to his chair.

"And you think it's funny?" Corentin's eyes draw down, sending me a scathing look.

"No, not that. I was thinking about how the Primary knocked Draken off his big ass when he tried to touch her. The look of both shock and pride on his face was fucking hilarious." Maybe I'm delirious or maybe just the thought brightens my mood, maybe both, but I fall into a fit of laughter at Draken's expense.

The room is still, everyone freezing to watch me fall apart in hysterics. Finally, Draken throws his head back, laughing as well. It's so contagious, I laugh harder, and the others can no longer contain themselves. Together, the four of us create a symphony of laughter, just like old times, filling the gloomy space. After a few moments, the laughter tapers off and we all wipe the stray tears from our temporary reprieve of arguing and melancholy.

"I need her to wake up. I need to tell her that she shoved a thousand-pound dragon to his ass. I need her," Draken chokes out, his tears turning from ones of comic relief to ones of sorrow.

"She will, Draken. She will," I tell him seriously.

"I'm afraid of how she'll react to the news. I'm afraid she'll think I've been hiding this from her when I haven't. Well, not since she came back. Before yes, I didn't want her to know, but since then, I've just been trying to find a way to drop a bomb of this magnitude on her gracefully," Corentin admits as he gazes down at her, running his fingers through her hair.

"She's the most understanding woman I've ever met in my life. She won't hold you at fault, Corentin. I worry more that she isn't going to want the responsibilities that'll come one day," Tillman states, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, and squeezes.

"And we'll accept that. We'll give it all up for her. The academy, the E.F., and everything that comes after. We'll give it up if she doesn't want it." There's no argument from any of us at Corentin's declaration, definitely not me. I don't want the shit now. It'd make my life easier if the Primary said fuck no.

The room falls back into silence as we all stare at her, praying our will alone will wake her. After a moment and nothing, I step into her bathroom and turn on the shower.

Standing under the stream of water, surrounded by her smell, I inhale deeply, filling my lungs to the brim with her scent. The fruity shampoo she uses can't cover the true scent of her. The smell of coffee on a chilly fall morning. Falling into the imagination that her scent invokes, I let the images flood my mind.

It's a crisp morning. She's sitting in one of the rocking chairs on the back porch of our childhood home, in her robe and slippers. Her head's thrown back, her hair cascading down in soft curls as she laughs at Draken's animation of the story he's telling her. Corentin walks past her, a mug in each hand, giving her one that's made of a far too sugary cup of coffee, and he leans down, kissing her forehead.

Tillman's sitting beside her, running his fingers up and down the back of her neck, massaging lightly as he goes. I'm sitting there watching it all unfold, pretending to have my nose stuck in a book, when really, she's stolen every ounce of my attention.

Leaning my forehead against the wall of the shower as the images fade, I bathe in the glow for a moment before my darkness closes in, consuming the feelings and turning them to horror.

She's chained to an exam table. Her father and that fucking rapist scum are leering over her, laughing as the mad scientists of the Mastery draw her blood, cutting, slicing her skin, never letting her shift to heal.

She's lying in her bed, her prone form cold to the touch, lips pale, thinned. No music of her laughter fills the space, just wailing from my brothers as we mourn her. There are no snarky remarks or smart-ass comments falling from her mouth, arguing about the overly bossy, protective command one of us just gave her. Draken's lying beside her, fading away to nothingness before he takes his last breath. He'll perish right along with her.

"Get out, get out, get out." I rage, bashing my fist against my head. The nightmares try their best to claw their way as far into my soul as they can. Trying to snuff out the light she's put there.

Slamming the water off, then drying myself the moment the water stops flowing, I pull some clothes from my shadows and dress quickly.

She has to wake up.

She has to come back to us.

To them. Not you.

To us, to us, to us.

Don't let them see you falling apart.

Taking a second to pull myself together, I call my shadows and wrap myself in darkness. The anxiety fades as the darkness consumes me completely. In my shadows, I'm safe. My demons can't touch me. They can't see me. In my shadows, they won't touch her. I'll turn this realm to nothing but a void before I let that happen.

Fading into the room, I see my brothers all doing the same miserable routines they've developed over the last forty-eight hours. I've been carrying this demeanor of calm, cool, collected for them, giving them the illusion I'm holding it together, unaffected, but I'm nowhere near holding it together. In a short amount of time and a little push from the creator, she's gone from the villain I wanted to blame all my problems on, to my obsession, my need, my breath, my everything. My Primary.

They don't know that. She doesn't know that. No one will know that but me until I'm ready.

"Corentin, why don't you open the windows and let some air in? You all should go to your rooms for a few, let her room breathe, and you all get yourselves together. She doesn't need to wake up finding her Nexus falling the fuck apart and feel like she needs to pick up the pieces."

"Fuck you, Caspian," Draken yells, and the fireball he throws at me fizzles out. I didn't even have to call my water up.

Angry dragon.

"You can take your anger out on me all you want, Draken. If that's what you need, fuck it, I can take it. But you know I'm telling the truth. She'll wake up, see the worry, concern, and forty-eight hours of unkept men, and she'll immediately go into little Primary mode and try to make it all better. Don't do that to her. Don't force her to wake up and be strong," I say, trying to call on my inner Tillman. Patience, calm, understanding, but it's incredibly hard. They all need to look in the damn mirror.

Go break down in the shower like I did and pull it together. Fuck.

"He's right. Come on, let's straighten her room, get some air flowing, and clean ourselves up." Mr. Understanding himself speaks up, standing and collecting the trash lying around him from the meals the kitchen's brought up.

In minutes, we have her room back in its original state. All it's missing now is her light.

Draken lights a few of her candles, fluffs her pillows, and gives her a kiss before storming out of the room. He slams his room door so loud, I can hear it from here. He'll need to shift soon, or he's going to explode.

Corentin pulls a gentle breeze into the room, circulating it a few times before sending the stale smell out the window, leaving the fresh, clean, woodsy scent of the forest outside drifting through her room. He doesn't kiss her like Draken did, but he runs his thumb across her bottom lip, then turns to leave.

Tillman creates some vines and ties her curtains back, allowing the natural midmorning light to cast a soft and gentle glow throughout the darkened space. The light has a rejuvenating effect, filling the space with a sense of calm, breathing life back into the room, making it feel like her space again. He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, whispering sweet nothings, promising to be back in just a minute before kissing her cheek.

On his way out, he gives me a nod that says thanks, unity, and determination all in one. He agrees that they all needed a swift kick to the ass.

Making my way over to the side of her bed, I sit down and wrap my shadows around her.

Staring at her comatose form for forty-eight hours, I've sworn up anything of value, promising it all to Elementra if she just wakes her up, let us have her back, and I'll give her whatever she wants. But there have been no answers.

"Wake up, Primary. Come back to us, to them at least. I know I've been the one to keep the distance between us. I've had to. I'll destroy the beautiful, innocent light that surrounds you. The dark and damaged soul I carry around will pull all the light from within you so I can keep it for myself. I don't deserve you. I'm not worthy of you. I'll ruin you. But I'm a selfish man and I won't let you go. Even if it can only be from the shadows, I'll follow you from there. I'm not like my brothers. I'm not funny, carefree, or playful like Draken. I'm not patient, balanced, or gentle like Tillman. I'm not mindful, selfless, or tender like Corentin.

"I'm what nightmares are made of. I enjoy punishing, maiming, and killing rebellious scum. I promise I'll never hurt you, but don't misinterpret that. I'm a monster through and through. I just won't be a monster to you. I'll try to give you whatever I can of myself, whatever you'll accept. It'll take me time, but I'll learn. I'll try to keep my darkness from tainting you as best as I can, sweet Willow."