11. Theo

Theo

It has been three days since the incident . That being the one where Roan made me come so hard I saw stars and then acted like I was a leper. And in those three days, I have regressed into being the sad little gremlin in my cocoon.

But it isn't as satisfying this time. It feels like defeat. I've come so far, and this feels like too many steps back.

My books lie discarded on the table next to the food I'd stopped eating again. Tor had come to visit yesterday with Caelan, fresh from their trip to the city, Caelan's truck loaded with all of my stuff from home. Well, it was home at least.

They'd been so excited to see me after stories that I'd not only gotten out of bed, but I'd left the tavern and even talked to people outside of our little group.

Because I had talked to them, and that was another thing I missed since I hadn't gone down to see Roan over the last three days. Missing it has only made me madder.

Seldon has still come to see me a couple of times a day, just like right now, where I'm ignoring him pawing through my suitcases Tor had left.

But over the last week, I'd started to chat with the customers. It was awkward at first, when they asked about the cottage or included me in random conversations they were having around me, but it was nice .

"Can I have this?" Seldon breaks through my pity party to hold up a cream cashmere sweater. It would be far too small for him, but considering the cropped shirt riding up his back and exposing the baby blue lace of his lingerie, I'm thinking that may be the point.

"Have whatever you want." At first I'm not sure if he can hear me over the muffle of the blankets wrapped around me. But the ruffling of him digging further into my suitcase reassures me he did. Or he doesn't care and decided to pillage my belongings anyway. He roots through the clothes like a man on a mission, pulling things out, holding them up for inspection, and tossing them back in with careless disregard for the careful way Caelan—and it was very definitely Caelan and not my pampered brother—had folded my belongings.

"So," he declares, flopping dramatically onto the bed when he is finally done picking over the remnants of my old life. I bounce in my nest from the force of it. "Are we done with this, yet? Because I'm telling you, as a friend who cares about you, you need to be done with this now." He waves at my situation, encompassing my patheticness.

He's right, I may hate it, but that doesn't change the truth. So, I fight to pull myself out of the covers until my head is finally free. With a humph, I petulantly try to blow an errant curl out of my face, but it just lands right back where it was. Seldon beams at me like I'm a child accomplishing a great feat. Ugh.

"You gonna tell me what's going on and why Roan has been stomping around downstairs like a sad, angry puppy who's lost his favourite toy?"

I've never actually had a friend that I could confide in before, and suddenly the urge to spill my guts to him is almost irresistible. But I bite my tongue, pulling the quilt back up and over my face. Seldon's chuckle is muffled, and there is the creak of my door opening and shutting.

" Why is he back in there?" Dear Gods, it's Edith. Absolutely not. I may have groaned my displeasure too loudly because Seldon laughs again.

"I think something has gone wrong with Roan." There is another bounce as Edith throws herself on the bed, her weight a comforting presence on my legs.

"Yeah, I saw him downstairs. Mauvy is out for blood. He was yelling at Woodsy about a keg spill. Hildy was in tears about something else. His head is so far up his own ass I think his horns have gotten stuck up there."

I try not to giggle at Edith's assessment, but it escapes in a snort and bright light assaults my eyes when her bony white hand rips down the quilt.

"What did he do?" Her face is far too close, her violet eyes peering into me too intently for comfort.

"How do you know it was something he did?" My question catches me off guard; it's certainly not like I want to defend him. Edith's hand captures my jaw, and she squeezes my cheeks, shaking my face.

"Because you are all that is good and perfect in this world and can do absolutely no wrong." She releases my face with a pat to my cheek, finally sitting back. I can almost feel Seldon's eye roll next to me. I shift on the bed, shimmying to loosen the quilt trapped around me. Finally free, I sit up on my elbows so I can see them.

"Well, I can't argue with that, obviously ."

Edith pats my leg affectionately.

"I swear to the Gods, if you do not tell us what happened, I am going to choke you with this cashmere," Seldon finally bursts, aggressively waving the sweater in my face. "And that would be a travesty because it would probably stretch and this is incredible."

Another laugh escapes me, and I don't miss that I have laughed more in my weeks here—well the week and a bit I wasn't in my little nest—than I ever did back home. Rather than give in to the reminder of the laptop and phone, both with dead batteries, sitting like a ball of dread on the table, I swallow it down and bump my shoulder into Seldon's knee where he sits next to me.

"Shut up." My sigh is big but so is the weight of their eyes while they wait for me to talk. "Fine! Okay. We, uh, hooked up."

"Ha! About time. Woodsy owes me fifty bucks." Edith ignores Seldon's little triumph, staring at me hard until one eyebrow raises in question. I can feel the heat of my blush creeping up my neck all hot and itchy.

"What happened next, Theo?" I try to stare her down, but it doesn't work. She's too confident, too calm.

"He said we shouldn't have done it. He regretted it." I hate how small my voice is. How weak. Especially under Edith's piercing gaze.

Beside me Seldon clicks his tongue and makes soothing noises, reaching for me and hauling me up to him, wrapping his arms tight around me. I didn't even know we were hugging-level friends, or that we were really friends to begin with, but I surrender to his cuddle because it's nice and it breaks Edith's hypnotic gaze.

"Did he say that?" There is something in the witch's words that makes me think she knows more than she is saying. Edith usually does. She just enjoys toying with her prey. The heat in my cheeks blazes into an inferno.

"Well, no. Not the actual words. I stopped him. I couldn't hear them a second time."

Edith's arched brow is raised to include a knowing head tilt and pursed lips. Shit. "Come again? A second time?"

Seldon's harsh intake of breath tickles my ear. My eyes find the pattern on the quilt cover and I focus on it with all the intensity I can muster.

"Uh, yeah. The night we camped with the centaurs? I kissed him. He was just so… and I was all upset and he comforted me and then I kissed him and it was fucking incredible. And then he said that he shouldn't have kissed me back because I was vulnerable or whatever. He was horrified . I felt like a fool."

"To be fair, hun, you'd just been rescued from being kidnapped and, um, not to defend him because obviously he is one hundred percent the villain here, but maybe he had a point and you weren't in the right state for a quickie with a guy you'd known for a couple of days out in the middle of the Woods with your brother and a centaur herd and Gods knows what else lurking nearby?"

I tip my head back to glare at Seldon's face, his sharp but pretty features pulled into a wince. Edith pats my leg sympathetically.

"Baby boy." Edith is the only person on the planet that can get away with calling me baby boy, "I hate to say it. But maybe he had a point. You have been through a lot . You are only just getting yourself back. Have you, and I know this is a wild thought, but have you talked to him?"

I scoff and squirm uncomfortably in Seldon's lap, unable to look anyone in the eye. Because I definitely didn't talk to him. I'd thrown a tantrum and hid in my room. Shame snakes through my belly, making me feel queasy and uncomfortable. I hate it.

"Look, my darling, I think that might be the first step. Roan will understand. I don't think-" Edith moves her face to catch my eyes so I have no choice but to look at her. "I don't think he meant what he said. And if he did, maybe he needs some convincing. Yeah?" My nod is small, the idea of talking to Roan and discussing my outburst makes me want to vomit from embarrassment.

"You can do it. But you need a new outfit. In fact, you need all new outfits. I'm in the mood to shop, and you have credit cards to burn." Seldon shakes my shoulders, squeezing me with affection. "Get your butt out of bed. We're going shopping." My nose scrunches at the suggestion, anxiety joining the shame party already making me feel queasy.

"What time is it? Don't you have work? Not today, I don't even know-" I'm cut off when Seldon shoves me off the bed, sending me sliding on to the floor with a loud yelp. Edith only cackles at my pain, managing to jump out of the way in the nick of time.

"Enough excuses. It's midmorning; I only came here to see you, and you need to stop hiding in all my hand-me-downs. You're too young and too cute to be walking about like a child in their big brother's clothes. It's time to find who you are, Theo. And what better way to do that, than with new clothes?"

Unlike my haphazard dismount, Seldon slips off the bed gracefully and stretches out his hand to pull me up. His plan sounds dubious at best, but I'm too caught up that he came to the tavern specifically to see me on his day off . And now he wants to spend the day with me. It's absurd how the notion of it all lights up something inside me, fighting away the dark thoughts clamouring for me to crawl back into my nest.

Maybe he is right; maybe a new outfit will give me the confidence to face Roan and explain, well, everything. I might just have to figure it out first.

"You coming, Witch?" I accept Seldon's hand and let him pull me up. Edith has found my suitcase, rummaging through the lot just like Seldon did.

"Absolutely not. You boys have fun. I'll let myself out when I'm done." She doesn't even look up, just holds up a shirt before discarding it and waving us off over her shoulder. I hesitate for just a moment but decide to let it slide. Edith's going to do what she's going to do—a locked door is certainly not going to stop her. I grab some cleanish clothes from the stack and duck into my shower.

"Just give me five, and I'll be ready." Seldon waves me off, flopping back onto my bed to inspect the green chrome polish on his nails.

"Take ten and make yourself cute. No rush."

***

"So, question. Roan wasn't your first, was he?" Seldon catches me off guard as I slide the hangers full of tee shirts across the racks. After a very quick shower we'd managed to escape the Black Stump without catching sight of Roan. Edith promised to let Mauvy know we were heading to Twin Heads when she was done pillaging my old belongings.

Not that I needed to tell anyone. I'm an adult and free to do what I want. I just didn't want them to worry if anyone came to check on me.

We'd piled into Seldon's crappy, old, convertible four-wheel drive, and he'd torn out of the car park blasting pop music out of tinny speakers. We'd cruised down the winding, tree-lined mountainous roads to Twin Heads singing along at the top of our lungs, sun on our face, wind blowing our hair wild.

When we'd pulled up, he'd insisted our first step was ice lattes for energy, and then he'd proceeded to drag me to every clothing store in town.

Twin Heads marketed itself as a small town, but with its position as being the easiest, not to mention friendliest, access to the Whisper Woods and its historical seaside location, it is actually quite a bustling township. Almost a city in its own right.

We'd walked up and down the aesthetically pleasing, coastal-inspired main street, our arms sagging with our purchases. "Ours" specifically because I couldn't help but buy Seldon some new bits and pieces here and there. I have more money than I'd ever know what to do with, and he looked cute in the sheer white shirt with bold floral embroidery. After that it just became more fun to buy for the both of us.

I hold up a shirt, not even looking at it before putting it back just to avoid his question for another moment.

"Uh, no. There was someone. Back at the University." On the other side of the racks Seldon's head pops up like a children's toy, his face far too enthusiastic for gossip.

"Tell me everything ." I can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. Giving up on this rack of clothes, I shrug my shoulder and turn towards the other rack, Seldon coming along like a puppy following bacon, sidling up next to me.

"Not much to tell really. He was in some of the classes I helped facilitate."

"You were his professor?!" Seldon fans himself dramatically, and I bump my shoulder into his arm.

"Knock it off, it was nothing like that. He approached me when I was finished guest lecturing in their classes and asked for help with his tutoring." The iced coffee I'd enjoyed earlier curdles in my stomach as I remember how nervous I'd been when Darius had approached me on campus.

Sensing there is more to the story, Seldon's big yellow eyes soften, and he nods encouragingly. It's embarrassingly little encouragement, but it's enough to unlock the dam that has been building in me, releasing the need that had been bubbling inside since, well, forever, but especially since my capture and rescue. The need to share, to finally pour every detail of everything that had happened between me and Darius.

The words flowed from me. How he was, without a doubt, a beautiful man, even if he had always seemed cold and aloof. I remember being impressed that even at the end of a long day of classes, his mousey blonde hair was still perfectly styled, carefully parted at the side and pushed back. Never a hair out of place, like it was scared to risk his wrath going rogue, his signature button-down shirts and slacks still stiffly pressed like it was freshly laundered.

I'd always tried to play the part of the dignified professor and academic, but my shirts had always become rumpled and my curly hair chaotic after running my hands through it a thousand times a day in frustration. I'd looked like the mess that I was. But then he cornered me in one of the quads while I was rushing to my office to begin the chase of my latest wild hair. I can't even remember what it was my gift had been inspired to know every single detail about before it inevitably moved on.

He'd called my name, and I'd spilled my coffee all over myself in shock, not used to being approached by the students at the University. It was another one of those awkward things. They had been close to my age, some older, some younger, only by a matter of a couple of years, but I wasn't one of them. I wasn't even technically a professor. I occupied a kind of nebulous space there, part-teacher, part-researcher, part-side show exhibition.

Ok, maybe the last part is me being melodramatic again, but it's how I felt whenever they had trotted me out at fundraisers and the like. The strange man with the unique and extraordinary brain.

Darius had helped me to clean up and smiled at me in a way that I'd never really experienced before. He'd flirted shamelessly as he'd asked for tutoring help in a couple of his classes. I'd turned down plenty of tutoring opportunities, mainly out of lack of interest and time. And because my upbringing had made me especially wary of people using me for their own gain. But I'd been struck dumb with horniness and agreed to give him a helping hand.

Which had eventually led to a different type of helping hand.

It had been… okay. Not the mind bending pleasure that I'd expected, but then, as a twenty-year-old virgin, I'd thought I'd just built my expectations up too high. All too often, I'd "helped Darius out" and been left hanging. Eventually, things progressed, hand jobs had led to blow jobs, which had eventually led to me sleeping with Darius.

He had always insisted on topping, and I'd been so desperate for any ounce of affection that I'd agreed. I'd learnt quickly that he was just as ungenerous in that regard too. I didn't mind bottoming; in fact, through my own super thorough and incredibly scientific experimentation, I'd found it incredibly pleasurable. But Darius had left all prep up to me, more often than not chasing his own orgasm at the expense of my own.

I'd been so wrapped in having someone that was mine, I didn't see the parade of red flags he'd been dropping.

It started when I smiled and waved at him on the grounds of the Uni after our first tutoring session, and he'd coldly turned his back on me. It confused me at the time, as when we were alone together during our session, he didn't hesitate to flirt with me or laugh at my awkward attempts at jokes.

The whole session he'd been in my space, holding eye contact a little too long, leaning in a little too close, brushing his hand "accidentally" against mine where I'd traced it along the text book.

I put the dismissal from my mind, writing it off as a mistake. Maybe he didn't see me, I told myself, even though I'd have sworn he'd been looking right at me when I waved to him with his friends.

The next tutoring session, I'd casually dropped I'd seen him, and he apologised profusely, telling me that he hadn't wanted to explain to his friends that he was seeing a tutor. He'd asked that we keep our tutoring to ourselves. He leaned in close when he'd whispered the suggestion, like we were sharing a secret. His intensely dark blue eyes held me captivated, and he tucked one of my loose curls behind my ear.

I'd been done for.

I agreed to keep our time together private, and a part of me had even thought it was almost… sexy. It seemed fun, exciting. I even managed to convince myself that our clandestine rendezvous were romantic .

And when I became aware that there were others he was sleeping with, he insisted it meant nothing, that it was me that he cared about. It was me that he came back to repeatedly. He'd made promises that when he was done with his studies and had graduated we'd get to be together, officially.

Whenever I would get frustrated, which happened increasingly over the two years we were secretly together, he would wrap me in his arms, kiss me sweetly and tell me all about how wonderful our life would be together, if only I could just give him time to complete his degree. I just needed to give him time. That I was it for him. He'd never told me he loved me, but that had been enough. I crumpled like soggy paper every single time.

It was just the contradiction of him. The way he could be so sweet and caring, promising me the world. He was the first person to ever pay me attention, and I'd revelled in it. I'd never seen how shallow it was. How fickle. It was never outright cruelty, just small things I hadn't seen, like sand in an hourglass until it had all built up.

If I'd ordered us dinner to be delivered, the restaurant or meal was never correct. The clothes I wore were never quite up to standard. Despite being, well, me , quite literally a genius, he would find the need to correct what I said or how I did things.

Tiny little things, one by one, until he eroded my confidence. I was second guessing myself at every turn, even my academic studies, questioning whether or not Darius would agree, or Darius would approve.

Despite my gift, I found myself checking in with Darius before pursuing an idea. Sometimes sitting in increasing anxiety, my power growing and pulsing inside like a volcano until he gave his approval.

I'd even started using my money to pay for things for him. Again, it had started out small, he ordered us dinner and had casually mentioned that it left him short of funds for the month. Darius had come from an upper-middle class family, and his parents were still supporting his studies at University.

Even without my extravagant bank account just sitting there, I had very few living expenses with my University housing and my rooms back with my parents, so I'd obviously been more than happy to pay for dinner.

But that dinner had led to the next. And then I was buying our meals every time. It hadn't really made a dent in my finances, and I'd enjoyed spoiling him with the fancy meals he'd started requesting.

But then he'd come to me saying that his parents were experiencing financial hardships and reduced his monthly allowance, and he was short for his books that semester. So, I paid for them. Then some new clothes and the latest fancy gadgets he simply had to have. That was the beginning of the slippery slope of me becoming his silent benefactor and secret lover.

None of it had bothered me.

Until it had.

I'd been so wrapped up in him, the little crumbs of love and affection he dropped for me, that I hadn't seen the forest for the trees.

It all blew up in the weeks leading up to my capture by Marieth. I'd probably already been under her thrall, since the first letters between us had been exchanged. Maybe that was what broke the intense hold he had over me? Maybe that was what had ignited the sudden urge for independence from the life that had me so constrained.

Or maybe it was because he got engaged .

Yes, engaged.

To a woman.

A woman I grew up with, Mathilde Vernilart. She was the daughter of one of my father's cronies and an heiress to an eye-watering fortune. Not as much as mine, but what she lacked in grotesque, historical money hoarding, she made up for by being a truly horrible being.

We had been running in the same social circles our whole lives, and she never missed an opportunity to go out of her way to torment me. Once she finally made her way to my University, she'd had to control her natural impulse to be truly heinous—I was faculty after all. But she'd never quite managed to hide her disdainful loathing of me. And then she took the one good thing I'd had.

I'd been in the University's cafeteria when I found out. He was there with a group of his friends, chatting over their lunch. I'd studiously tried to avoid looking at him, but his friends were being loud, shouting about something I hadn't really been able to hear. Then she sauntered into the cafeteria with her best friends, all loud and excessively beautiful just like her.

Darius caught Mathilde as she ran and leapt into his waiting arms, swinging her about. She squealed with glee, her waist length jet black hair fanning around her like a cape. Then she'd flashed the ring to everybody suddenly crowded around the still lovingly embraced couple.

I'd seen it glinting in the sunlight from across the cafeteria. It felt like the world underneath me had simply… disappeared. My stomach dropped to somewhere near the basement, and my knees felt weak, like the weight of gravity was suddenly impossible to bear.

The people in the line around me tried to talk to me, asking if I was okay, but the world had turned to static, the truth of Darius's betrayal, of who he was and what I was to him, had turned me inside out. I fled the cafeteria to the toilets where I vomited up the contents of my stomach until I'd almost passed out.

I called and texted Darius repeatedly, taking the afternoon from my work to lock myself in my office to stare at my phone until he responded.

It took him two days .

He'd seen me in the cafeteria, and it had taken two days to respond. He finally agreed to meet me at my apartment, where I'd angrily confronted him.

It was then that he'd spat the truth at me. That what was between us wasn't real. That he'd been biding his time until he could secure something greater for his future. I was a back-up plan. A last resort. A means to an end. A place to get off in the meantime. An idiot with a large bank account he was willing to sponge off of while he set his social climbing sights higher.

I'd been absolutely gutted by his tirade, staggering to collapse on the hard, ugly couch supplied by University faculty housing, crying loud, heart-wrenching sobs.

Darius at least had the good grace to look mildly shocked by his outburst. I still don't think he meant to unleash so much honesty on me—it had just spewed forth like he was compelled to do it. He'd stammered stupidly for a moment before fleeing my apartment.

The next day, I returned to my parent's house, unable to face the risk of running into him, Mathilde, or any of their friends on campus.

There had been a letter waiting for me from Marieth, again inviting me to join her to further my studies into the history of fae magic. I'd been wavering—the need to exert some control over my life was pushing me to go.

Tor had tried to discourage me, but it was Darius that had kept me from the trip. The idea of leaving him, of disappointing him. Of him finding my replacement while I was gone. But with that no longer an issue, I'd written my letter agreeing to visit as soon as possible, basically signing my own death warrant to avoid the humiliation of my rejection.

When I finally finish recounting my whole sorry tale, I manage to face Seldon, shame heating my cheeks, burning the tips of my ears. His sad little warble makes me laugh despite the moment, and then he is pulling me to him, shoving my face into his lean chest, the rough glitter embroidery of his tee shirt scratching my cheek.

Our bags, and there are plenty of them, have been discarded all over the floor while Seldon embraces me, rocking me back and forth. I can feel his tears on my scalp where he is rubbing his cheek on my head, his hands rubbing small circles on my back.

I'm more than just a smidgen grateful that the store is basically empty except for the sales assistant who had made herself pretty scarce while we'd shopped. I've experienced a lot of embarrassing moments in my life—I don't want to add this emotional bonding session to the list.

Because Seldon is not the only one crying. Tears stream down my cheeks, wetting Seldon's shirt. I hiccup on my sobs, trying to pull back the threads of my emotions, to pull myself back together, but it's just not happening.

"I am so, so sorry , Theo." I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter against his sympathy. It feels too much like pity.

"You don't have to apologise. You didn't do it." There is a sharp whack to my butt where Seldon slaps me, and I flinch, my face turning up to scowl at him.

"Don't be a dick. I'm sorry that it happened to you. Not taking credit for the dickbaggery. Nobody, absolutely nobody deserves to be treated like that." I nod against his chest, still hugged tight against him by his deceptively strong arm. I swallow down the big feelings threatening to once again spill over.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry." I huff a humourless laugh. "It's funny, I know that now. I know how wrong it was. Being kidnapped and almost dying kinda put a lot of things in perspective. I had a lot of time to think while I was in Marieth's basement. About my life. About who I was. I didn't like the image it all painted very much. I'd never been happy. I'd… never felt like me. I'd been desperate for approval from everyone, to constantly prove myself."

"Everything was driven by my parents and their aspirations for me, or my gift and what I needed to study, or what the University wanted from me. And then whatever I could do to keep Darius interested in me. I promised myself… I promised myself that if I survived, I wouldn't do that anymore. I wouldn't be that way anymore. I wouldn't be that meek little pushover." Seldon's sharp features contort into a look of disbelief.

"You? A meek pushover? I don't believe it." I shove at his shoulder, extricating myself from his embrace to flip him off. Our bags are a giant mess, so I bend to pick them up.

"Now who's being a dick?" I hand some of his bags over. He's right, something about facing my own mortality and being surrounded by people who genuinely care about me has changed something in me. I feel safe to be myself. Or whoever it is I am becoming. Even if that means being a bit of a dick sometimes while I figure it out. Deep down, I knew they still had my back.

"Well, I think all that trauma requires something shiny and more iced drinks. We'll hit a couple more shops, and I'll take you back. And you can talk to Roan."

I groan loudly, throwing back my head dramatically. He laughs musically, whacking me playfully with his handful of bags.

But then he sobers, giving me his serious look . "Also, I think, on top of Edith's tea, maybe you should speak to someone? Like, a professional? You've been through a lot."

Everything sounded great until he got to all that stuff about talking. That sounded a bit shit to be honest. That uncomfortable tight feeling came back, that one where someone has told you something incredibly true but you don't want to hear it.

"Ugh. Fine. But I'm not going to enjoy it."

Seldon loops his arm through mine, leading me out of the store.

"Sure, you keep telling yourself that, bud."