Gods & Thieves ✔

46. Not Enough and More Than Enough

༄༄༄

I'm sorry, Elisey.

I don't know why I dreamed of those words. I don't know what they were supposed to mean, but when I wake up in the morning, my mind, clouded by a haze of dreams, is somehow sure that I will wake up bound, with bruises and bloodied lips. Somewhere in a stone, gloomy, damp dungeon, such as I've never seen in my life but decided that is where kings and empresses deal with their enemies.

I'm sorry, Elisey.

I'm sorry, tonight you finally fell into the trap of treacherous shamans. You will never become one of us, because you are not our equal. The only thing Loretto can love about you is your death, Maricela reminds me, hissing into my ears and laughing.

Have you not realized by now that you were sheltered under the wing of our care only to be torn into pieces by ancient demons in beautiful robes at the hour of judgment, and you will have no choice here? Your fate was painted long ago. You are a pawn in a game where victory is the throne and failure is death. You fell for the bait of seduction and affection like a blind worm; now your house is on fire, and your relatives are on their knees awaiting execution, while you dream of love.

Naive fool, Montejo, ha! Like all his ancestors, he is greedy for someone else's beauty, because he does not have his own, haha! Well...that's your share, then. Your karma. Your fatal talent.

I'm sorry, Elisey.

A poisonous fear grips my heart before I can fully wake up. My hand clenches into a fist to fight for my life.

"Eli! Fuck...are you gonna rip a piece of my skin off first thing in the morning?" Loretto's voice breaks through the veil of my acrid dreams with enviable boldness. "Very kind of you, thank you. If you pinch like that again, I'll kick you and you'll fall to the floor, where the condom is still lying."

Opening my eyes, I gasp and frown at the light of dawn that streaks across my pupils at the same moment, I realize that so far, only my dreams have betrayed me.

I'm in my room. On my bed. Without bruises and demons. Lo lies next to me and looks at me with a surprised, worried reproach in faer piercing but loving eyes. The morning is early, sunny and serene, and only my hand, clutching Mentor's side, squeezes faer skin, leaving a devilishly red mark.

"I'm sorry." I hurriedly relax my fist. Fear dissolves as quickly as my night vision, and now it seems to be an utter nonsense of elusive whispers and blurred images. "I...had a bad dream, I think. I don't remember."

Loretto squints at me for another split second, as if calculating something in faer mind, but then fae just nods and looks at the ceiling again. Fae doesn't ask me anything, doesn't leave, and doesn't kick me to the floor.

Fae lets faerself be hugged again.

And I do hug faer. For another minute, I'm still trying to figure out who my subconscious was going to fight, but then I discard this idea.

I rub my sleepy face. Stretch--well, or try to. I almost fall off the edge of the bed, where I'm still huddled, and when I wake up fully, I realize that my mouth is dry, and I'm terribly, terribly hungry...But there is no desire to go looking for food at all, because my body, although numb from sleeping without moving, is still blissfully pampered. It's nice.

Loretto and I have our clothes lying untouched on the floor, and my chair is steadfastly propping up the door to my room. The only thing that has changed is the blanket, which fell to the floor at night, but now wraps Lo and me up to our waists. It's warm to be under the blanket together.