The Artist Sees The Webs

Not knowing how to help your mate is one of the most frustrating parts of the bond.

The cat's miserable because she's caught up in so many webs of intrigue and emotion, pulled from one direction to the next like taffy. Our immediate family can't see it as clearly as I do; they can only sense that there"s a problem. My darling woman is desperately trying to serve too many masters to coin a phrase.

The demands of our mates, confusion over the secret agent, and the voices of all the rest scream for her undivided attention. She can't make them all happy; it's impossible. Add to that sadness from the things we don't discuss and her community duties—she's running herself ragged. I've noticed she seems to have another issue that's dragging her down in the past few days that she won't discuss. It's weighing on her and every time she sits down to relax, someone sends up a Batsignal. They're having a giant game of keep away and she's the ball.

This can't go on for too much longer or she'll snap in two.

That ironclad, yet squishy marshmallow heart is why I love her. She's strong while she's breaking, sheltering everyone else from the storm. My mate would charge the gates of hell for the people she loves and never ask for a thing in return. But she's soft and giving inside of her toughness with a capacity for forgiveness that rivals a much more saintly human.

The queen of our dominion can't help but take care of her tribe, even to her own detriment. Her stubbornness can't go on forever, though. She's got too much weight on her shoulders from carrying around our secrets. I've tried to help, but she refuses because she's stubborn as a mule. She won't even let me tell them to bugger off for a while so she can recharge in her sacred space. That's going to bite her in the ass soon, and I know she's aware of what happens when she doesn't do that often enough.

How do I know it's all going to hit a brick wall?

Watching the three-ring circus from a distance gives me a unique perspective. I don't have as many webs pulling me in, so I can quietly observe. My schedule may be complex, but I get to have time alone in my studio to create and it frees my soul. My night bloom doesn't get a moment's rest from the time she rolls out of bed until she finally sneaks in to curl up to sleep in the wee hours.

You might think I'm exaggerating, but I'll give you a rundown of the past two days to prove my point.

Monday morning, she met with Constantine because he's butt hurt. She was dating the whiny droid casually before the bird came along, but he thinks that means he's guaranteed quality time. He accused her of ignoring him—which isn't true—but my mate can't say no to people she cares about.

She wasn't home an hour before she got suckered into a lunch with Rhea and Alistair, a trip to the movies with Mercury, a poetry reading with Wilde, and a visit from Shea. By the time she got home that night, she looked like she'd been through a meat grinder. The bloody secret agent didn't text or call while she was out, so she was grumpy as fuck.

Tuesday, she had a full scale meltdown. She spent most of the day texting with Taurus because of something my Flame lied about. It feels like there's something my night bloom isn't telling me about that situation, but I can't get it out of her. We ended up in her closet—which is never good—then Wilde and the coyote showed. My mate wasn't happy, but there was no way out of it. Our doors are never locked, and our motto is that family is always welcome. Once we got rid of them, she disappeared until dawn with Taurus, and now she's sleeping.

I made sure that she slept all day yesterday, and she doesn't know it yet. No one may wake her before she rises on her own. This packed schedule is making her so tired she can barely think straight, which could lead to disaster. If she won't take care of herself, I'll make sure it happens even if she's mad at me for it.

No matter who's in our lives, I'm still her primary mate and I won't let her fall.

But Christ, only three days into the week, and I feel like we've been through an atomic blast with fallout to come. That summary didn't include the calls from people looking for her while she was sleeping it off. I can't even fathom what her email must look like. The bloody voicemail takes an hour to clear most days now. It wasn't as bad until that jackass showed up—that much I'm sure of.

My love is always in demand, but the entire town has gone cuckoo since the bird rolled in. Everyone's terrified of what that will mean for our way of life, and they're going to break her if they don't stop. One person cannot be everything to everyone without losing parts of themselves along the way.

I'm powerless to help her and it's making me crazy.

Walking over to our bed, I watch her sleep. Victor was on duty earlier, pacing back and forth like he wanted to wear a tread in the carpet. He's always been extremely overprotective of her, but he's been in overdrive since the skewering incident. Vic worries there's more to this change than she's telling us. I don't know if he's wrong. It would absolutely be in our girl's wheelhouse to be dying and not tell a soul for fear we'd get hurt. Neither of us will break into her head to find out, so we have to wait until she's ready.

"I feel you nimrods watching me. I haven't grown a second head," she mumbles, rubbing her face against the pillow.

"We know that my night bloom. But you've been running yourself ragged. We want to keep you healthy."

"Old nanny goat." She rolls over, pulling the blankets higher as she pouts.

I chuckle. She might be the most stubborn person in the Rift, if not the universe. "Your phone's been going off, but I turned the ringer to silent. You needed sleep, woman."

Her eyes pop open, and she sits straight up, pushing crimson waves out of her face. "You did what?!"

My brow arches. Isn't this interesting? I've never seen her act like this over missing a phone call. "I turned it off because it was getting persistent. Would you like to see who called? You gotta eat first."

I grin as I pull the thing out of my pocket, waving it at her. She forgets to eat when she's caught up in nonsense and if it takes bribes to make sure she has the fuel she needs, so be it.

"Fine," she huffs, sitting back against the pillows. "Have Leo bring the food in. I know he's waiting."

"In fact, he has." I waited for her to stir, planning to hold that bloody gadget hostage until she indulges in a little self-care.

Leo appears in the doorway with her tray, winking at her before he leaves. It's full of protein, which she needs for that monster inside of her. He also added fruit, coffee, and waffles. It's a tempting array of her favorites, and I'll have to thank him later. This spread will ensure that she actually cleans her plate.

And I'm not leaving until I know she's eaten every single bite.

While she starts on the eggs, I study the stupid phone. It looks like a normal sodding smartphone, but that has to be deceiving. I know it's how she disappears for hours on end to Christ knows where. This kind of shit is why I got the hell out of the Company when I had the chance. Being tied to a remote teleportation device twenty-four-seven isn't my idea of a carefree existence.

"Don't play with that. You'll screw something up," she commands through a mouthful of waffle.

I roll my eyes at her. "The last thing I want is to fly away to Taurus-land. No worries, pet."

"He's not that bad once you get to know him."

Sure. That's what she always says.

"I'm sure he's not, love, but even he needs to give you space to breathe. You can't keep burning the candle at both ends to make everyone happy. Boundaries are important when you have this many people demanding your attention."

She chomps on a slice of bacon, giving me a dirty look. Once she chews, my mate sighs heavily. "I don't want to hurt anyone. But you are right… This pace isn't sustainable. There were barely enough hours in the day for Tuesday. I slept an entire day yesterday to make up for it."

Nodding, I sit on the edge of the bed as I look at her seriously. "I'm not saying you have to choose, but you have to say ‘no.' Tell people you're booked and schedule another day. It won't fix it all, but it's a start."

"Yeah." Her expression is sad as she heaves another sigh. "It's going to get ugly when I do. I've always been able to juggle with no need to upset anyone before. But that might have been because everyone was okay with working together. I think they're actively trying to fuck up my time, so I can't see Taurus now."

She's probably correct in that assumption.

"Then you have to put your foot down. Don't let people pout or whine their way into overextending you. You deserve to have time with us and for yourself, love. Everyone needs that."

Her nose wrinkles, and she thumps the bed. "Why are you always so damn wise and so damn persuasive?"

I shrug, winking at her. "Because I don't force you. I simply present the facts and let you come to your own conclusion, eventually."

"I hate that," she mutters.

Chuckling, I lean in to kiss her forehead lightly. "Deal with it. I won't change and I know you don't really want me to, brat."

"Take it back," she growls softly. "I am not a brat."

I arch a brow, grinning wider. "Sure, you're not."

"When I finish this food, you're getting an ass paddling that will make you scream." Her expression is triumphant, and I shrug.

"As long as it doesn't bruise, I'll enjoy it."

That quiets her immediately and she mumbles, "Well, that puts a damper on the fun."

They always do, my love. They always do.