Chapter One Hundred and Seven
I was gone.
My soul, my thoughts, every part of my being had been sucked into a void. I couldn't say how long I drifted inside myself, bathed in ice and pressure, but it was long enough and black enough to corrode at the essence of my consciousness and distort what I really was and who I was.
And yet, despite being gone, I was still present enough to sense the changes.
Even inside myself, deep under the realm of being awake, I knew I was fading away. It didn't scare me, if anything there was relief in knowing that this would be over soon. I had no real connection keeping me grounded to reality, to my own life, as if the silken thread I'd been so desperately clinging to had finally snapped and I'd been blown out of the eye of the hurricane.
Because that was what I'd become.
I was a fucking hurricane.
My hope, my optimism, my desire to be good, to never let people down, to give myself a reason to deserve to exist, to live for the sake of others so I could feel justified to be alive, it was the eye of that horrible storm, circling around and around the calmness with destruction and ruin.
The thread that kept the eye open had been my dad's love. His acceptance. His faith in me, that I was still good, that I still was worth something--
'I was a fool to think you'd be a better man than me.'
Ah... even now, the power of that phrase sent static through my veins, shocking my heart and ripping at the snapped thread like sand paper against raw, severed nerve endings. The eye was closing and the storm was swirling around, pulled into that yawning black hole, filling it up.
I could feel it.
It wouldn't be hard to just let go and fade. Refuse to eat. Refuse to wake up. Because what point was there in waking up anymore? I never deserved to in the first place. I'd known that all along and I'd still had the audacity to think that if I could somehow get even... if I could somehow turn back the sin that had burdened my family onto the one who'd forced it on us, I'd be free.
Well... I'd gotten my wish.
I was free now.
Cut free from the thread connecting me to life and left to fall down into the dark. Time had no meaning in this space within myself. I knew things were happening all around me, and a few times, people tried to rouse me, but I clung to the dark and wouldn't be pulled out of it again.
It refused to let me go.
There was no warmth to cling to, just the howling of cyclonic emotional chaos, deafening me and blinding me and keeping me locked in a mental prison. Liquid touched my lips and tongue several times, and I was vaguely aware of something else being forced down my throat, but outside of those two sensations nothing broke through the haze.
And then, something I couldn't explain began to happen. I picked up a sound, slow and rhythmic, that broke through the deafening roar keeping me buried in the dark, cutting through the dull ringing. It was faint, at first, barely there but present enough that my consciousness zeroed in on it after a time and I began to focus.
Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump.
It was like a drum, but the sound of it was electric, and it sparked a sudden warmth in my core that thawed through the bleakness of the ice. I shuddered as my insides turned, drawn to the sound, wanting to crawl up inside it and let it be a safe haven from the awful sensations.
It was the only good in a universe of darkness and bleak despair.
I was half-terrified that it would suddenly stop, disappear, vanish from me just like the thread that had been cut... but confusion touched my head, lucid for the first time in a while, and I wondered why I was thinking about threads at all.
What thread had been cut? Why did I feel like a thread had been cut?
I didn't know. But with every thump, the roaring chaos grew softer, calmed, and the beats grew louder, warmer, and safer. In the dark, I felt something... saw something, even. A coil of gold and a flicker of stars, a hint that I wasn't alone even in the darkest of universes, reminding me.
Every beat was steady, like a drum, a pattern that called to me, that breathed life to me, that reached out through the dark like a set of hands, reaching for me, flailing to snag something, anything connected to who I was... and I felt it catch. On me. In me. Furling in, clutching me tight, and fighting to pull me from the void I'd fallen into with every beat of that drum.
Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump--
I twitched, roused with a jolt, eyes so heavy I couldn't even make them flutter. I inhaled deeply, but caught nothing... there was no scent, or maybe there was a bunch all mixed together, I couldn't tell with how disoriented I was. The first thing that came to me was how warm I was.
Heat radiated through every single one of my limbs, making me feel alive.
It was almost weird how normal I felt.
After the fight I'd had with Pop, I hadn't felt this warm at all... not even once.
Then, I heard it. Rhythmic thumping against my left ear, loud and steady, and with that recognition came the sensation of my cheek against warm, bare flesh. Confusion muddled me and I focused, swallowing past an ashen tongue while I catalogued what was happening to me.
I was under a blanket of some sort, and from the feel of things, I was in a bed... but it wasn't a mattress I was lying on, it was a person. I felt bare skin against my stomach and chest, and I could sense that my legs were nestled between someone else's, but it wasn't Echo.
I didn't feel the same sparks that came to me whenever we touched, plus, whoever was beneath me had a much warmer body temperature than him. The chest beneath me rose and fell at an even, soothing rate. It was lulling and peaceful... so soothing, in fact, that when movement combed through my hair I nearly jumped. I fought not to shiver as gentle fingers caressed me.
I inhaled again, weakly rubbing my cheek against the skin keeping my flesh warm. The person touching me went completely still. The heartbeat in my ear quickened and there was an inhale that made my body shift.
"Big Horst?" a quiet voice tentatively rasped, vibrating my ear and sending warmth shooting through me, melting through the veins of ice that still lingered inside me. "Big Horst Avake?"
My head slowly began to clear and with a herculean amount of effort, I peeled my eyelids open and squinted at the real world for what felt like the first time in a thousand years. I blinked very slowly and carefully, trying to get my bearings and figure out what was happening.
I didn't recognize the room I was in at first, mostly because of the furniture, and it took me almost two minutes to compute that I was most likely in a guest bedroom somewhere on the bottom floor of Sebastian's plantation house. I shifted my body a little, then stopped.
I blinked, then blinked again, then slowly lifted my head. My cheek had fused with the skin it had been resting on and the way it peeled off was a little gross and sweaty, but I unstuck myself and flitted my ears around, listening and waiting and trying to make sense of everything.
Fingers suddenly touched my ear and I twisted my head to see Luka's glittery eyes studying me from where his head lay propped up on a mountain of pillows. I squinted at him in confusion, not really processing what was happening, then looked at his bare chest. The moment I realized I was on top of him with a blanket thrown over us, my whole face twitched.
"Luka?" I asked; my eyes widened and I froze, because I sounded nothing like me. It was raspy and hoarse and as dry as a dying man's croak. "Holy shit... what's going on? I sound... I..."
My half brother simply broke into an insanely wide grin and clutched my cheeks with both hands, forcing me to make eye contact. He wriggled a little, trying to get himself into a sitting position, and once he'd done so he tugged me up with him, forcing me to settle on top of him with my legs curled up between his own. He looked down at me with relief in his features.
"Little brother safe now," he quietly informed me, staring straight into my eyes. "Very scary, not know how happen... not know if Big Horst come back. Luka happy now."
Confusion flooded through me and I made a face, nose scrunching up.
"Why are we naked and lying against each other in the same bed?" I asked, feeling very weird about it since, again, he was my half brother. "This is weird."
"Not weird. Satyr cuddles same as wolf time," he instantly rebuked, waving a dismissive hand before clutching my cheeks again and stroking beneath my eyelids. His eyes were firm and unusually steady as he studied my own, thinking about something. "I... has... much and much responsibility to... to you, Big Horst. I... am big brother. Big brother protects little brother."
I was lost.
I didn't know what he was getting at, or what had happened, or why we were together.
"Luka, what the hell happened?" I asked, blinking. "I... I got into a fight with my dad, and... well, it was bad, and I handled it really bad, too, but its hazy. I'm having trouble figuring out why I'm here and, more to the point, why we're lying in a bed together."
Luka wiggled his ears at me and on sheer, raw instinct I wiggled mine at him, too.
"Luka English big bad. Me and Wifey try learn from Diana Lady, but not easy," he sighed, moving his hands from my cheeks and instead rubbing my back. "Not know how say what happened, so... how you say? Luka need Bash for tan-sa-tater?"
A knock suddenly filled the air and a door on the other side of the room slowly swung open, illuminating everything. I twisted to see Sebastian himself standing in the door with glowing amber eyes, followed by Aerin, Raph, and my... dad...
Oh, fuck.
A jolt went through my stomach and all the color in the room began to bleed away, but before it could, a hand touched my cheek and another gripped the back of my neck. I twitched as heat spread through me, washing across the ice that had started to bleach everything again.
Splotches of color came back, bit by bit, until my vision had returned to normal. Luka looked at me, then at the arrivals, specifically at my father. The two of them shared a weird look for a second, and I admit, it was confusing for me to see since I felt like I was missing something.
"How long was I out for?" I found myself asking, drawing everyone's attention back to me. "I feel like... I missed something. Maybe more than just one thing."
Sebastian looked uncomfortable, but Aerin tossed his white hair out of his face and stepped forward, clasping his hands behind his back with solemn blue eyes.
"Horst," he said gently, fiddling with his fingers, "you've been here for a few days, but--"
"You nearly died," Sebastian bluntly interrupted, ignoring how everyone flinched, including Luka, who wrapped his arms around me. "I'll be frank with you. Your body was shutting itself down completely. Your heart came very close to stopping. It's a miracle you're alive... if it hadn't been for Luka spotting you and recognizing what was happening, you'd be dead right now."
I wish I could say I was surprised or horrified, but I wasn't.
I was mostly just dazed and confused.
"What... happened?" I asked, glancing at Pop only to see that he looked broken. Now that I was actually looking at him, there were bags under his eyes and he seemed exhausted, but his face was withdrawn and I couldn't read whatever he was thinking. "What happened to me?"
Raph growled and, without warning, turned and left the room. I watched him vanish, but my father stood still, standing out in the hall as if too ashamed to come inside.
"Luka say," my half brother finally sighed. "Mr. Bash... tan-sa-rate, da?"
"It's translate," Sebastian grunted, "but yes. I'll explain everything in English, so go ahead."
"Spasibo," Luka said, then rubbed my back and began to talk in Russian, speaking it fluently and so precisely that the melodic words rolled into my ears like so much pretty gibberish.
"'Satyrs are herd creatures, like wolves, but unlike wolves they cannot live without support from their herd,'" Sebastian quoted, listening intently. "'It is very rare that a satyr is not loved in some way, shape, or form. There is always love in every tribe because without it, they'd wither away.'"
I felt my whole face go slack and looked at my father, who was staring at the ground. He looked very uncomfortable and guilty.
Luka said something else, a long string of sentences while kneading the back of my neck.
"'If a satyr finds himself rejected, or abandoned without any love, belief, or hope,'" Sebastian grimly added, narrowing his eyes and casting Jak a very mean look, "'Like all faeries... they die.'"
My heart palpitated and sank horribly.
"You... came very close, Horst," Aerin said softly, gently, as if he were speaking to an easily spooked animal and was afraid of setting me off. "Luka told us that you needed a connection, a bond, to get through it. According to him, family works best, but he was also concerned because of how big our collective packs are. He told us that this shouldn't have happened at all."
"Why?" I hesitantly demanded. "Why did it happen, then?"
Aerin looked at Jak, then back at me, visibly at a loss. He didn't seem to know what to say, or rather, how to say it... so, his husband did it for him.
"We don't know, but we think its because of your mindset," Bash growled, sparing nobody's feelings with his biting words. "Lack of self worth, poor mentality, and feeling like you don't deserve to be loved. You isolated yourself from your loved ones. It's no secret that you've been distant with pretty much everyone in your pack aside from your father and Raphael, but after speaking with the latter, its clear that the strongest real connection you had was to Jak."
I flinched, ears drooping, but before I could feel anything... my old man stepped forward. He moved with heaviness in his steps, eyes glazed, not really looking me in the eye, and the bed bounced when he sat down on it and hunched over, staring at the ground. He folded his hands, sagging a little.
Luka's fingers burned hot on the back of my head, keeping me grounded and steady.
"I should have kept my mouth shut," Pop hoarsely informed me, shaking his head. "I spoke out of sheer anger... in the moment, I wanted to hurt you. I knew it would, so I said it... I was just so mad at you, for not thinking of me, for putting yourself in danger, and most of all... for telling me, to my face, that you tried to kill yourself over this shit. That, more than anything, hurt."
My throat constricted. "Pop... I'm so s--"
"No, I'm sorry," he whispered, setting his face in one hand. "If I had taken a second... just one fucking second to think beyond my anger instead of being pissed over the fact that you thought you couldn't talk to me... instead of getting angry that you thought suicide was a better option than talking to me... I'd have realized the seriousness of your actions. I'd have realized how much danger you were in. Not because of Yuma, but because of yourself. If I'd kept my mouth shut and taken a second to really think about your actions and words, I'd have realized that you were self destructing right in front of me and I never once fucking noticed or did anything."
I couldn't even talk past the lump that had formed.
My eyes burned and went blurry.
"I didn't mean to hurt you... I didn't... " I somehow squeaked out. "I just--"
"I know... I... I forgive you... and I'm sorry, too," Pop sighed, twisting on the bed to look at me, still cradled in Luka's arms. "I know that you don't forget things because of your memory. I can't even imagine how hard it is for you in day to day life just... knowing things, and feeling things as if they're still happening even if the experiences are years old. I know that's why you can't let go of these thoughts inside you... why you blame yourself. Why you're so sad all the time."
"Pop, I'm fine," I instantly blurted, only for everyone to look at me so sharply that I snapped my mouth shut. Shit... I really do have problems.
"I've been reading up on hyperthymesia in my spare time," he dryly informed me, scratching at his beard. "Everything that you're currently going through played a part in why this happened, Horst... it isn't just depression. Unfortunately, even I forget things sometimes. Like most people, my bad experiences fade with time, but you? You can't forget. Your brain is so perceptive and high functioning that it can't even block out any of the trauma it receives."
"Which then causes it to build up and show through your actions and emotions," Aerin murmured, rocking nervously back and forth on his heels, palming his jeans. "The reason you snapped was because you were already suffering from a psychotic meltdown. You may not have realized it thanks to all the stress, but you changed a great deal in a single instant."
"I... I did?" I asked, confused; sure, I'd been in a bad mood ever since the day I'd made the connection and, yeah, I'd been thinking some pretty fucked up shit and daydreaming about things I never should have been daydreaming about... but had it really been that much?
"Yes," Sebastian growled. "You were practically another person when you came back after talking to your father. I've never seen you like that before. It was eerie, and unsettling, and I could tell immediately that you were not in your right mind. You were aggressive and angry."
"And if I'd taken even a second to think about the state of your heart and mind," my dad roughly finished, mouth quivering as he stared me down, "this never would have happened. I don't know what I would have done if you'd died, Horst... I didn't mean for this to happen."
I had no idea how to respond.
I couldn't even find enough courage to look at him anymore.
"I... I didn't, either," I eventually admitted. "I didn't... mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to leave you out of it, I just... what Yuma did to you, I couldn't let it go. I couldn't--"
It was only then that I realized I was sitting cradled in the arms of the man who'd been raised by said satyr. I twisted to look at Luka and my stomach flipped when I saw how sad he looked. He tried to force a smile when our eyes met, but it looked more like a grimace.
"Luka okay," he hummed, patting me before nodding at my dad. "Mr. Pap need know."
"It's still difficult," I bluntly snorted. "Despite what he did, Yuma is still your dad. It's hard for everyone all around... I don't... I just... I hate this! I hate this whole situation. I want him to get justice and I want... to be happy, but I want everyone to come out of this without getting hurt!"
My father nodded sadly. "I don't think that's possible, Horst... not after this. This trial is probably going to rip Luka's whole tribe apart, and honestly? I'm not sure if I want to participate."
My heart fluttered horribly. "What do you mean you aren't sure?"
His face screwed up and he closed his eyes, looking rather ill.
"I mean, I'm not sure," he said after taking a breath and letting it out. "I don't like the thought of reliving my torture and having to explain what was done to me, down to the very last detail, to a bunch of critical strangers who... may or may not view me... as a victim. Or worse, deny and fight my pain."
"You were a victim, though," Sebastian growled. "You were brutalized and left for dead, Jak."
"Maybe then, but not anymore!" my father snapped back, aggressive and bladed. "I don't want to feel pitied! I don't want to be looked at like I'm a pathetic creature! Moreover, I don't want people to look at Horst differently when they meet him! Its not his fault! It's never been his fault that this shit happened, and in truth... I sometimes... find myself... grateful that it happened."
My insides turned upside down and similarly, Aerin and Sebastian looked shell-shocked.
I stared at my dad when he wrapped his arms around his middle, looking at the floor.
"How can you say that?" I quipped, blank and confused. "How the hell can you feel grateful for being raped and brutalized? For having your guts ripped out by the same bastard who gave you me? They tortured you and left you for dead--"
"Horst," he said in a strangely even tone, staring at the ground. "My life would have taken a completely different course if I hadn't had you, but that doesn't mean it would have been a happy one. I can't explain the ache that went through me when I walked into your bathroom to see your hair and fur turning white... speaking those words to your own reflection."
He fell silent for a second, squeezing himself with shaking hands; I vaguely recalled a greyed-out visual flash of my own ugly smile, broken and defeated. The way he'd looked at me, distorted though it was by whatever the hell had been happening to me at the time.
"I didn't mean for you to see that," I reluctantly informed him. "I didn't know you were there."
"It doesn't matter. I did... I saw your face... I saw your eyes. And I saw that you believed those words as you were speaking them to yourself," he retorted, finally twisting to look at me. "Listen. It doesn't surprise me that you think you never should have been born if we take into account everything that's happened over the years... the way I acted when you were little, the way I treated you after your seventh birthday, and everything else I did wrong, too. It's my fault."
Guilt hit me hard. "Pop, I--"
"BUT!" he loudly cut in, and I shut my mouth; he took a breath and started again, "but... believe me when I say that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"You can't be serious," I scoffed, bitter and disbelieving. "It doesn't feel that way to me."
He looked at me sharply, narrowing his eyes. He seemed about ready to snap, but something suddenly passed over his features and he relaxed, sighing through his nose.
"I can't imagine never being able to forget bad experiences," he quietly retorted. "I know you won't ever forget the fight we had, or what I said to you, but hear me now. Listen so you don't have the opportunity to forget these words I'm about to say. Do you understand me?"
I eyed him warily. "Uh... yeah."
He looked me dead in the eye, digging his claws into his pants.
"Horst, I love you," he said in a clear, unwavering tone. "What I said to you about being a better man than me? I didn't fucking mean it. Even as it left my mouth, I didn't mean it. I haven't lost faith in you, and I will never give up on you. Ever. I'm your father, and you... you're my pride and joy. You're living proof that there is still good in the world. Yes, I'm traumatized... yes, I hate them for what they did... and yes, I still have nightmares... and CPTSD attacks... and... problems--"
"Ain't that the fuckin' truth!" Raph's voice called from the hallway, lazy and irritated.
"--but I'd be lying if I said I regret what happened to me," Jak continued, staring me dead in the eyes, jaw quivering as his filled with tears. "I love you. From the moment you took your very first breath, I've loved you. I haven't always acted like it. I've fumbled and fallen and failed and made far too many mistakes when it comes to you, over and over and over again, including spurts of misguided fear and anger that never should have happened... but I still love you. As much as I hate those satyrs for what they did to me... I'm still grateful to the one who gave me you."
I started having trouble breathing.
"But... why?" I whispered, fighting back an anxiety attack. "How can you say that?"
"It's not something that's easily explained," Jak told me, shaking his head. "It's something... more, Horst. Its a feeling with no name. You... came from me. You're part of me, I see pieces of my features in you and it makes me... proud. Happy. Amazed and excited and lonely, too, because I know that I can't keep you by my side forever, even if you say you want to stay."
He chuckled, giving me a crooked grin, and in that moment... that sheer, concise moment, I realized something. I didn't have Yuma's smile. I didn't share that with him. That crooked grin was almost identical to mine.
"I mean, you can keep him by your side if he wants to stay," Aerin pointed out. "It's a decision that you both need to agree to, but still."
"True, Aerin, but the point is, without Horst, I'd be alone today," he grumped, turning his attention back on me; a clawed finger was leveled in my direction. "You saved me, Son. The kind of grief I was suffering through doesn't just go away... but you... filled that gap inside me. You're the one who healed all the shit making me so angry and upset for so long--"
"That was Aerin, not me!" I barked. "Five years ago, you were abusing me! Do you remember how you used to call me worthless?! How you used to tell me that I was good for nothing? That if I didn't do better there would be no place for me in the world? How I had to toughen up?!"
"I do... I was projecting my own fears on you in an unhealthy, toxic way," he quietly acknowledged, nodding without skipping a beat. "I was working with Louise on that until she retired three years before last. I haven't actually been doing therapy with her lately."
My face went slack.
"What do you mean?" I slowly asked. "Retired?"
"Louise stopped officially practicing therapy four and a half years ago," Aerin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She gives people life advice when they really need it, but she doesn't do the sessions anymore unless someone in the pack goes out of their way to request one."
"She said its because its impossible to give therapeutic advice to people she lives with," Bash dryly added, rolling his eyes. "Annoying woman is too smart for her own good, but we haven't really had need for a psychologist or a therapist in a while, so I haven't bothered looking."
"Did Kip know?" I asked, and everyone looked at me sheepishly.
"They haven't talked much since he started college," Aerin sheepishly admitted, shifting his weight. "He didn't even know she started dating Leo until you told him. They got into a minor argument over it the last time he was here."
I rolled my eyes. There goes his plan to get me, Erika, and him into therapy sessions.
A thought suddenly hit me and I glanced at everyone in confusion. "Is she here right now?"
"No, nobody is aside from us, Diana, and Sasha," Pop muttered, patting his knee. "They're all spread out at the moment. Most of our guys are sleeping in a hotel near the hospital Katrina's mother and brother are staying at so they can take turns keeping watch. The majority of able-bodied and otherwise unoccupied members of Sebastian's pack headed over to the VRC for extra security while Yuma is being detained there, and the Mason couple are back home up in the mountains. They wanted some personal time to bond with their horses and children."
"Jun and Renee stayed behind at the college campus to keep an eye on Katrina," Aerin helpfully chimed in, stepping forward with solemn eyes. "Feng-Feng and Anurak are here, too, but we haven't seen any of their sons aside from Fucang, who left about thirty minutes ago."
I nodded slowly, thinking, processing, still trying to wrap my head around shit.
The whole part about me nearly dying... of faeries and belief... it was unreal.
"If... I nearly died... how... am I still here?" I asked, stiffly, but very much to the point. Everyone looked away aside from Sebastian, who raised an eyebrow at me.
"You can thank Luka for that," he dryly informed me. "According to him, the blood of your kind has magic in it. I'm not sure what he did to save you... he kept his hand on the back of your head, right on your mark, kept your ear against his chest... and he hummed. For the entire time you were in this room with him, he barely stopped to eat and drink, he never left your side."
"We were skeptical at first, but we knew it was working when your hair abruptly stopped turning white," Raph called, poking his head back in; he looked at me and grimaced. "Not that it matters much. Half your head hair is white now... in the most random of places, too."
"And his fur," Aerin sadly whispered, staring at me with a broken heart. He sighed, turning and burying his face against his husband's burly side. A single powerful arm wrapped around his shoulders and kept him close, sympathetic and sheltering, although Sebastian's gaze was trained on me... more specifically, at my hair.
"Abandoned goats give up on living," he muttered, casting another harsh look Jak's way and snorting when he flinched. "Its not surprising that this turned out the way it did. Couple that fact with his vibrant intelligence, the nature of all Fae, and a werewolf's instincts..."
He trailed off, leaving the cruel implication in the air.
"I'll... I'll do whatever it takes to fix this," Pop finally said, weak. "I do want justice, and... I can't... fault you, for taking initiative for my sake. Horst... please. Talk to me in the future. Don't ever leave me out of something this serious, ever again, especially if you wind up contemplating something as horrible as suicide over it. I'm still... so mad that nobody told me."
"Well, how could we have?" Aerin asked, looking a bit guilty. "We weren't sure what happened, we only suspected--"
"He told me, but there wasn't much time for me to approach you after," Sebastian deadpanned, ignoring the harsh glare my father sent his way. "Plus, your mind was elsewhere."
"Well, the mistakes were made," he growled back. "Let's just move forward and avoid making them again down the road. Getting back on subject... I can't lie, the thought of coming face to face with people that still, to this day, haunt my nightmares terrifies me. I don't know if I can do this, Horst... I don't know if I... have the courage to... take part in this trial."
Something protective and almost immediate came over me.
I thought for a second, trying to figure out how we would ever progress if he decided not to go through with what had already been set in motion... and then, I had a flashback. I remembered, with stunning clarity, that Huang, with Chi the Sandman's help, had shown me branches of my own future that I normally never would have had the opportunity to even get a glimpse of.
Through my dreams, of all things.
Maybe... just maybe...
"If it comes down to it... there might be a way to make it so you don't have to," I said, looking at my hands... at the long black claws on them. "There might be a way for you to never have to testify at all."
"What?" he scoffed, sounding confused. "What do you mean?"
I didn't want to answer. I knew he would never go along with the idea. He would brush it aside...
But no. No, I wasn't making that mistake again.
I wasn't going to leave him out of my head or my heart again.
"Chi has the power to show people things through dreams," I absently reminded them all. "If you're really not comfortable... standing there, or coming face to face with them... maybe... maybe I could do it for you. Maybe... if Chi... gives me your memories of the--"
"NO WAY, MON!" he hollered, lunging to his feet with horror on his face. "Never! I would never subject you in any way shape or form to that sort of torture! It is not even up for discussion!"
I sagged a little, disheartened... but then... Luka raised his hand.
"Can Luka do?" he asked, shocking everyone, including me. "Not know all... words... but know enough. Know trial being discussed, and hear about dreams and see and memories. Is possible to see bad thing happen to Mr. Pap, da? Little Brother has Papka not wanting to see... scared because he so sad now. Scared it ruin Big Horst more... but Luka... I... is... ready?"
He seemed to be struggling with the words, and eventually he sighed and looked at Sebastian; Russian came pouring out of his mouth, along with frantic petting and rubbing of my head and ears. I watched as the burly Italian werewolf's eye twitched and he nodded slowly.
"What he's trying to say is that he'd be willing to try taking the memories of your assault upon himself in Horst's place, for two reasons," Sebastian growled at my dad, who froze. "The first reason is because he wants to see with his own eyes what his father did to you. He wants to know the truth, because he's still having trouble believing it despite what he's heard and seen. The second reason is because he doesn't want Horst's condition to worsen, which is possible."
"What?" Aerin whispered, horrified. "Babe, what do you mean?"
"One moment," he muttered, then said something to Luka in Russian; he waited while the satyr babbled back, looking down at me with a scrunched face and disheveled curly brown hair. I looked back at Bash when he sighed. "He says that Horst needs time to heal, mentally, and that he needs an unquestionable amount of support and love to return to normal. Stress-free. I agree with him on that, too. He should be focusing on things that make him happy. Not this shit."
My father nodded, eyes turning hard. "I'll... think about it. If... if it turns out that I can't find the courage to do this... then we'll talk, but I'm undecided. As for Horst, I agree... but it'll be difficult for him to start school with all this shit happening and I'm wondering if it's a bad idea. Would it be healthier for him to wait another year before starting his classes?"
I felt a bubble of protest rising up inside me, but Raph shook his head sternly.
"No, it would just stress him out more," Raph grunted, giving me a look. "He needs things to look forward to and things to keep himself occupied. If you think about it, keeping him here will leave him without anything to focus on... but if he stays and starts school, not only will he have to do his work, he'll also have his daily life with Echo to focus on. He needs space to learn, Jak."
My dad nodded slowly, swallowing hard, then whispered, "but... what about that thing? The one Luka mentioned? Before he woke up?"
"Simple, he and his wife can stay with Horst until its no longer necessary, if they want," Raph snorted, waving a dismissive hand. "It won't be too much of an issue to keep their presence a secret with me acting like a bodyguard for him and Sanchez. Plus, there's Jun and Renee to think about. If it comes down to it, we can fit them up with disguises."
"Sasha be easy to hide," Luka piped up, surprising me and them, according to their faces. "Wifey no have horns, and ears, tuck under long pretty hair, easy." He gestured with his hands to his own ears, then down at his legs. "She wear long dress? No see hooves. See? Easy to hide."
"And what about you?" Bash quietly asked. "Your horns are large, and you can't use magic to hide yourself the way Horst can, which means you'd have to disguise yourself."
"Luka no need magic," he said sternly, then patted me. "Luka stay close to Big Horst, then he can use and hide all." For emphasis, he patted me, then himself. "Horst magic, use on Luka."
"I can do that?" I asked, twisting to stare at him, and he grinned, wiggling his ears.
"Da," he murmured, leaning down and shocking me with a kiss to my forehead. "Horst do."
I was thrown off guard by the gesture, but it did calm something inside me, so I let it go.
"Then, its settled," Raph snorted, nodding once. "After the full moon's done and over with, you guys are gonna head back to the college apartments and you're going to fucking relax, bond, and do whatever the hell you want to as long as it isn't stressful. You're gonna talk, play video games, watch movies, and try to do shit as happily as you can until school starts."
"And, because its necessary now," Sebastian muttered, "I'm going to find another teacher to help you learn about your satyric instincts, your magic, and the things about fae that you don't know. This whole situation is a prime example about why we need to be educated on you."
If I winced, my father flinched.
"We'll also need to find him someone who can teach him how to control his Arcana," Sebastian muttered, shaking his head. "I did a bit of digging... satyrs can't typically manipulate or use raw, arcane energy... he's gonna need two separate teachers for magic."
"Wifey can teach glamour," Luka chimed in, again surprising us. "She know how work. Cannot use, but know all. Sasha mother be tribe healer, use much magic. Teach all to wife when... tiny?"
"Young," Sebastian corrected, making a face at Aerin's muffled giggle. "I might have to find you a language tutor, as well."
The satyr stiffened in surprise.
"Me?" he asked, patting his chest. "Luka?"
"Yes, it's getting rather annoying hearing how broken your English is," Bash dryly explained. "It grates on my ears."
"Babe," Aerin whispered, swatting him gently. "Be nice!"
"Why do for Luka?" he slowly asked, and I stared at him; he looked puzzled. "Why find teacher?"
My father turned to look at him.
Like a magnet, something unspoken passed between them, and they looked at me.
"Isn't it obvious?" Pop quietly asked, hesitantly reaching out and touching his hand. "You're Horst's brother... and, more than that, you saved his fucking life. You... you saved him after my fuck up. Even with everything else going on, and all your doubts, you still helped my son."
"Yes, Luka do," he said slowly, frowning. "Not know--"
"You're just as much my family as he is, Luka," my dad grunted, making his goatish eyes go round as marbles. "You and your wife are welcome to be a part of this dysfunctional pack when everything is settled. I'm not going to blame you for what happened. It isn't your fault, and if my son wasn't... comfortable... with you, in general... he would have moved. That much I know."
"Oh," was all the satyr could say. "Okay."
"Well, this has been fun and all, but we should let Horst rest," Raph grunted, then looked at me and sourly added, "congratulations, by the way."
I eyed him warily. "For what?"
"For setting a world record," he sarcastically countered. "You're the first living, breathing werewolf in the history of all our kind to have developed Marie Antoinette syndrome before the age of fifty. You're the youngest to go white on record. Congrats, but before you go back to the campus, you're gonna have to dye your hair and eyebrows."
"Is it that bad?" I asked, concerned. "You can't be serious, right?"
Everyone shared a weird look.
"You can look once you've gotten some more rest," Aerin sighed, skipping around on light feet and moving to the side of the bed. He leaned over and gave me a hug, and I paused, eyes fluttering closed as the sweetness of his scent wafted off his beige sweater. His arms were soft and the fabric was as cold as the air he pulled with him, soothing in the best of ways.
"Do I need it?" I grumbled, examining myself. "I've been sleeping long enough as it is."
"Yes, you do," he murmured, kissing my hair. "Just a bit more real rest. Then you can try getting up and moving about. Fair?"
"Fair, I guess," I sighed, reaching behind my head and pulling my curls over my shoulder; I blinked and stared at the foreign color, disturbed by the lack of black. It was like someone had bleached my hair, but instead of blonde I'd gone lighter, straight to snowy and pristine.
It was weird. I didn't like it.
A quick glance under the covers revealed that the majority of my legs had gone white, too. There were a few small patches of black here and there, but my pelt was predominantly white, and it weirded me the fuck out.
"I'm half tempted to shave all the fur on my legs off," I weakly joked. "I don't like the new look."
"Trust me, we'll all be happy when it starts growing in black," Sebastian snorted, but even I could tell that he was leaving the real part of that sentence out. It wasn't so much a matter of when it would return to normal as it was, if it did.
Aerin, after all, had been white from head to toe for five years without a trace of his natural russet brown. Raphael and Richard were the same. I sighed to myself. It didn't really matter to me one way or the other. If it didn't go back to normal, I could always dye it black.
I had more important things to focus on anyway.