Reclaimed: Chapter 19

It wasn’t like Shadow and Angel stared accusingly at me, but there was a tension in the air. Everyone knew I was the one who’d thrown this not so minor wrench into our plans. I had to say something. “Yeah, so, sorry about that. I swear I never planned for my wolf to escape and cause havoc.”

Shadow grumbled in his usual way. Angel patted me on the shoulder. “We know. Your energy is stronger here, and so is the wolf’s. Hopefully now that you’ve let her out, she’ll be satisfied until we can figure out what your tie to the realm is and how to counter her strength here.”

I nodded. “If any positive could come from this, she is calmer now. I had her locked down for too long. My shifts have been sporadic since I was yanked out of Torma.”

Shadow let out another rumble. He was going back to his old grouchy self, and I didn’t have the time or energy for it. I was barely standing.

“Do we have any food?” I asked shortly. “Or is my backpack gone?”

Inky swirled forward, swelling up into a large smoke cloud before it birthed a bag again. “You gotta stop doing that,” I croaked. “It’s creepy.”

It grew even larger, jiggling away. Midnight joined in, and despite my exhaustion, they managed to make me smile. “Are you staying now?” I asked Midnight. “Is everything okay back in the library? Simone was fine when you left?”

Everything is peaceful and safe. Simone is in good hands with Shadow’s friend.

I narrowed my eyes. “In good hands… with Lucien? Really?” I screwed my face up at the thought. “That’s a little worrying.”

Lucien was a smooth-talking vampire, and I had never had a reason to worry about a streak of evil in him, but I knew it was there. Deep in his eyes, there was a darkness that lingered. All five of Shadow’s powerful friends had it.

It made sense, as Shadow’s crew, that they would exhibit the same brutality he did. Birds of a feather and all that. Simone wasn’t exactly a naïve little dove, but I still worried she might be out of her depths. I sure as fuck had been, and it was only pure luck that I hadn’t gotten into more trouble.

We needed to get this done and get back to the library. “How far are we from your family now?” I asked Shadow.

I knew the compound was near the lava chasm, where the mists were the most accessible. We were at this chasm.

“We’re a day’s walk,” he told me. “I had to take us in the opposite direction so we weren’t ambushed while I saved your life.”

He was going to hold that against me, maybe forever.

I couldn’t really blame him.

“Will we follow the lava chasm?”

He nodded. “Yes, and hopefully, they won’t expect us to attack from this direction.”

I stared at the red river fifteen feet down, wondering briefly how Shadow had managed to dunk me in and out of it without killing himself. Maybe he’d used the mists, since they could no doubt exist in the heat? Or maybe the mist lava didn’t burn him?

I supposed it really didn’t matter. Of his many secrets, this one didn’t even register in importance; he’d saved me and that was all that mattered.

Bone tired, I sank to my knees, reaching out for the bag Inky had been carrying—I refused to refer to it as anything else—and pulled out clothes, followed by a couple of the energy bars. “Can I drink that water?” I asked, jerking my head toward the icy lake while simultaneously ripping into the bar and eating it in two gulps. “Before we set off.”

I could already tell it wasn’t going to be enough to give me the energy to continue on. I was so far beyond drained that only a year of sleep, a ton of food, and six orgasms would do the trick. The odds of even one of those things happening was almost impossible, though, let alone the trifecta. No doubt we were about to start a massive hike to get our asses back on track to the compound.

Then Shadow shocked the fuck out of me. “You need a break. You can’t continue on like this. We must regroup.”

I stared. Was he worried about me? “I’m fine,” I said, chewing my second bar.

He shook his head, and I could tell he was determined; I wasn’t going to change his mind. “You’re not fine, Mera. You’re pretty fucking far from fine.” I went to argue again, but he cut me off. “It’s not just you; I need some intel about this world. I had a friend here once who might help me… if he’s still alive. I propose we head in that direction first.”

Angel straightened. “For once, I agree. You have lost the element of surprise, and your sister will be prepared. There’s no point rushing in for the ambush. We must find a new approach.”

This was the opposite of what she’d said before, and it was clear now that both of them were on the protect poor little Mera train. I’d have gotten mad about it, except it was clear that I’d almost died today. So, yeah. Best to just shut my mouth and let these powerful, stubborn, gorgeous gods make the decisions for me. It might be nice to regain some energy before we were once again fighting for our lives.

I can carry you.

Reaching out, I brushed my hand through Midnight. “Despite the evidence to the contrary, I actually prefer to walk. On my own, as I’ve done most of my life.”

Midnight blew up, wrapping around me in a hug, just as Angel stepped toward us. Her next words came out gently. “You know independence—extreme independence—is a learned response, right?”

I jerked back, those words hitting me harder than they should have. “What are you saying?”

She held both hands up. “I’m not trying to criticize; I just know from my own experiences. It’s only natural that when you’ve had no one to rely on for so long, you start to truly believe you must always do everything yourself. You’ve learned this response; it’s not natural. You’re a pack animal and should have always had a community of peers to fall back on.”

Heat pricked my eyes as tears choked me. I’d never thought of it that way, just assuming that at the end of the day, you only ever really had yourself to rely on. But had that just been a learned life experience? Resulting in me being overly determined to never rely on anyone?

“Shadow’s the same,” Angel said, watching me closely, as my face no doubt went through a full range of emotional expressions. “It’s our trauma. The three of us all hold on to our independence, as if we’ll die if we let go. At times in our lives, we very well could have died if we hadn’t cultivated our own strength. But we’re not alone here. When you’re too weak, let others carry you. There’s no weakness in allowing us to help you.”

Shadow cut in. “I have no trauma.”

Angel and I exchanged a single glance, and I was relieved when my tears faded against my laughter. “Okay, dude.” I chuckled. “Whatever you say.”

Inky wrapped around Shadow, and they were in their terrifying pose, so I forced myself to stop laughing. But for real, that guy carried more trauma than ten humans put together.

“There’s no point denying your trauma,” I said with a shrug. “And no one is going to argue that you built yourself up to be strong and scary. A god. A literal creator of races. But when you were twenty-two, expelled from your world and family, alone in a new universe, there had to be struggles.”

His jaw clicked. “I survived.”

He had, but at what cost?

Forcing myself to stand and get dressed, Midnight drifted under my arms to help, and it seemed that was the moment Shadow realized how weak I truly was. He lost some of his righteous anger and stepped forward to help as well.

Once I was clothed, we started to walk, and he ended up half-carrying me, my feet scraping across the ground.

Tilting my head back to see his face, I smiled sadly. “Surviving takes its toll, Shadow. I know. You did a really excellent job, but it helps no one if we gloss over the struggles. It always leaves a mark, some deeper than others.” I rested my head against his arm. “You’re not alone. I’m not alone. Angel is not alone. I’m going to keep reminding myself of that. We can lean on each other.”

Look at me go. Angel’s words had helped me evolve and I was already vibrating at a higher level of consciousness.

Or the exhaustion had me losing my mind.

Shadow didn’t look convinced, but now that I’d had a revelation, via my bestie, I was going to keep forcing myself to acknowledge the truth of it.

We could do better.