Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

HALWEN

" E m," I said when he handed me a cup of jasmine tea—the second one in an hour. I'd lost count of how many he'd handed me in the six days since we lost Kaida.

Emlyn didn't reply, just gave me a smile and disappeared into the kitchen again. I hated that smile with a severity that surprised me. It did nothing to mask his pain, nothing to cover his grief, but he kept smiling like he couldn't do anything else. He hadn't let me in, hadn't spoken about our loss or anything that happened on the island or in the prison. Neither had Wyn, which worried me.

I blew on my tea, standing in the middle of the living room, aimless. Kai and Harvey only spoke about what happened in enraged tirades, snarling their increasingly gruesome plans for revenge. They'd only stayed in Hell instead of searching out the titan because I'd begged them not to go. I was barely keeping my shit together; I couldn't handle them getting hurt. Or killed. Again.

I scrubbed my eyes as tears burned them and choked down a mouthful of tea, listening to Em knocking pots together in the kitchen. He never stopped baking, like he knew he'd break down if he paused for even a minute. The house was full of sweet buns, fresh bread, fluffy doughnuts, cheese straws, homemade pizza, and a whole croquembouche sat on the dining table, untouched. None of it changed the fact we were missing a newborn baby girl.

I took another drink and hissed when it burned my tongue. I didn't allow myself to think about what Verena whispered to me in the fake timeline. Yet I declined glasses of wine and bottles of beer, and even though I knew I was so fucking stupid for even entertaining the idea, I didn't throw myself into sparring like I would have done. I only fought the punching bag, even if part of me wanted to go out into Hell and kill someone, just to vent this pain tearing through my chest, crushing my stomach into a twisted knot.

I put the tea down on the sideboard and jumped when the front door slammed open.

"No, because you're a stupid fucking bastard," Wynvail snarled, drawing a deep sigh from my chest. I punched the bridge of my nose.

Kai's answering laugh was low and rumbling, a sound that preceded a fight.

I slumped into the hallway as Wyn shut the door behind them and said, "Don't."

I didn't mean for my voice to be tired, but I was exhausted, all my energy drained, my heart sitting broken inside my chest.

"Just … don't."

Kai slumped, his eyes heavy with guilt as all the fight went out of him. One of them was swollen and bruised, already closing, and there was blood all down his mouth, soaking the royal blue shirt he'd worn. That blood should have sparked something inside me, some life, but I couldn't muster the magic.

"Another fight?" I asked, swallowing when Wyn crossed the hallway to slide his hand along my waist, pulling me into a hug. I wilted, the weight of his arms a profound relief.

"I found him getting the shit beaten out of him," Wynvail said with disapproval. "He stole from a guard at the outpost halfway up the Black Peak. The stupid bastard went for the biggest, meanest guard."

"On purpose," Kai informed us, scathing. His eyes were empty, completely dull when he strode past us, dragging his ankle in a way that told me something was broken or sprained. "I'm not a fucking idiot."

"Yes, you are," Wynvail muttered, the words brushing the top of my head as I clung to him.

Kai just laughed, that dark, bitter sound that was becoming far too familiar. I clenched my jaw to fight back a fresh wave of tears.

"Oh, honey," Wyn murmured when he saw my face shining with tears. He tucked me closer and held me tight, resting his head against mine, his soul as hollowed out as mine. The others had been through this before, but Wyn—Wyn never had. I brought my arms up and hugged him, wishing I had something profound to say, wishing I had anything to offer except our shared pain.

"Fresh cinnamon rolls," Emlyn said brightly, bringing the smell of sugar and cinnamon with him from the kitchen. He held the plate out to us. I didn't have the heart to tell him eating made me feel sick, so I took one and nibbled at the edge.

Wyn's hand slipped under my shirt, pressing his palm to my skin, and held on tight. "I'm not letting go until you finish that roll."

In any other world, this might have led to bickering, then to kisses, then to eye-rolling sex against the wall, but this wasn't another world. I just took a bite of the sweet roll and choked it back with minimal chewing. If I tasted it for one second, I'd—

I lurched away from Wyn so suddenly that his hands slipped off me, his touch searing my back, making my heart twist tighter with yearning. I dove down the hall and up the stairs, throwing the cinnamon roll onto the marble counter in the bathroom before I dropped—carefully—to my knees.

Vomiting was miserable, and I hated it. Whatever energy I had left drained as I retched, mostly bile splashing the bowl. I couldn't eat much, and not just because of—what Verena had said to me. I didn't see the point in eating when everything tasted like ash. Em knew I was barely eating, but neither of us was acknowledging it head on.

"I'm staying with her," Wynvail bit out, the softness gone from his voice.

"Like hell you are," Kai snarled, the bathroom suddenly writhing with snakes, his magic pressing to my skin until all the hairs rose along my arms.

"If you stay, you'll just pick another fight."

"I'll pick a fight right here, right now if you don't fucking move." Panic entered Kai's voice, strangling the rage until fear reigned. "Let me inside. Let me near her!"

I retched again, miserable and sick.

"Enough!" Wane said in the dark, sonorous voice that had emerged on the island. He didn't raise his voice, didn't need to shout; his words carried, a clang of power going through me. I jumped, unaware of when he'd arrived. "Both of you, go cool off or fight or whatever you need to do. Stressing out our mate isn't helping."

Kai let out a sigh, so deep it must have been dredged from the very depths of his chest. I felt the guilt drown him through the bond. "Haley. I'm sorry."

I grabbed a tissue and wiped my mouth. "It's okay," I promised because his voice was so small, so diminished, and I couldn't stand it. "It's okay, my night."

When I turned to face them, Kai ducked his head, his hands curling into fists on either side of him. But I knew Kai; he wasn't suppressing a fighting streak, he was hiding tears.

"Take care of him," I told Wyn, holding his turbulent stare. "Please."

His shoulders slumped and he nodded. Wyn looked more unkempt than ever, his white shirt wrinkled, half tucked at his waist, the other half hanging over his trousers.

"I'm fine," Kai muttered, his voice thick. "I don't need anyone else to take care of me."

Wyn grabbed the back of his neck and dragged him into the hall. "None of us are fine."

I climbed to my feet and turned on the tap, rinsing my mouth with water that tasted so different to water from the safe house in Edinburgh. I missed that place more than I'd expect, but we weren't safe there. We had to keep Verena safe. We had to.

"Where's Harvey?" I asked when Wane wrapped his arms around me from behind, his shadows enfolding me too, velvety and warm, like he knew I was cold inside.

He pressed a long kiss to my hair. "In the garden with Verena."

"They're still training?" I asked, and ignored how gruff my voice was, my throat burned raw.

"He's teaching her how to throw a pulse of sunlight."

"And filling her head with plans of revenge, no doubt," I said tiredly, throwing water over my face before shutting off the tap. "What are we gonna do, Wane? We can't stay here when Phoebe found us so easily."

"Phoebe is a prophet," he pointed out, wrapping more shadow around my waist, a protective coil. "But you're right. We'll move on in a few days."

I nodded. Waited to feel something about that, about being back on the run, staying one step ahead of a monster who wanted us dead, but no emotion formed. I was just so fucking tired.

I avoided my reflection in the mirror, turning to press my face into Wane's chest, letting his warmth bleed into me.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly, trying to push through my tiredness to feel his soul where it tethered to mine.

Wane's chest rose and fell with a sigh.

"No," he said after a moment. "I thought—it felt … real." His voice choked. "She—"

I held him tighter, crushing him to me and not particularly mindful of either of our aches and injuries.

"She was ours, she was real, and I—I held her. She was in my arms and then I opened my arms, and she was gone and—she's fucking ours. It's not fair. None of this is fucking fair."

I stroked his back, screwing my eyes shut as his pain breached my soul, a perfect mirror image to my grief.

"I'd rather live another century owned by Cronus than endure this. I can't stand it, itzaia. I can't. And now—"

He was quiet for so long that I breathed, "Now?"

"Haley," he said, so soft it was barely a whisper. A confession, far bigger than my name. "I—we—" His throat bobbed. He shook his head. "Tell me what you need to eat. It's all I can think about. You need to eat, you need to be strong, so—anything, whatever you want, just tell me and I'll get it."

Oh, gods.

No.

I shook my head over and over. "I don't want anything."

"Yes, you do," he argued, so, so softly. "You can't stomach bread or cakes, and you don't want anything we've had for dinner this week, but you ate those plums yesterday. So, tell me you need fruit, and I'll get every piece of it from the market across the mountains. Just—tell me what you need." He choked out, "Please."

"No," I whispered. I didn't want to talk about my stomach refusing everything I tried to eat and yet craving other foods. I didn't want to talk about any of this when we just lost Kaida.

Wane drew back, his expression shifting. Now he was the man who took control, who ordered me to obey and gifted praise in the same breath. I saw it in the hardening of his mercury eyes, the clench of his jaw and the way his mouth pressed thin.

"My instincts are howling at me, Haley. They scream until I can't hear anything else. So tell me. Name anything and I'll get it for you. Now."

I blinked fast, my bottom lip weakening. "I want—cheese, fruit," I breathed, the words so much more than a simple desire. They were an admission and a surrender. My body craved what it needed because a tiny life was growing inside it, and it killed me. Because I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, we'd lose this baby too.

Wane's shoulders slumped in relief. He kissed my temple, his arms lingering around me, and then drew back. "Haley."

I held up my hand to ward off this conversation, but something needed to be said. "Don't—don't hope." I couldn't meet his eyes. "We'll lose this one, too."

"I know," he whispered, surging back to me, hugging me so tightly that he shook. "I know. But I won't ignore your needs, itzaia."

My heart hurt as I brushed my lips over his in the softest kiss. "Wane?" I dared to look at him, to meet his eyes. "Please don't drink again."

He sighed, shame lowering his eyes. I smelled it on his breath, strong and terrifying. It wouldn't help him cope with our loss, wouldn't fix anything, wouldn't even dull the pain. It would be five times as painful when the haze wore off.

Wane curled his fingers around the knife at his hip. "I won't," he promised.

"I mean it," I whispered, leaning back against the sink and hiding the tremble in my hands. This was real, it was happening, and we were all falling apart. We couldn't handle a miscarriage now; it would kill us all.

"So do I," Wane swore, conviction hardening his voice. He looked me dead in the eye. "You were brave enough to tell me what you need, so I can be brave enough to endure this sober."

"I love you," I said, and flapped my hand, sending him away to get food, to soothe his instincts.

He ducked close for a swift kiss and left me to cry alone.