[Rosalynd]
Falling. I don’t know how long it is that I fell. Time flows differently as you face your death. I don’t feel it when I stop, I don’t feel anything. Everything just goes dark.
So this is death.
“You are not dead,” a familiar voice calls to me from the void, I recognized this voice when it first spoke to me in the forest, and again when it spoke to me through the oracle. It is the Universe, the one that controls the ebb and flow of all energy in the cosmos, the sustaining force of life here on Terra and Tara, the tether that keeps the worlds connected.
“
[Evander] There’s a rush of fear, followed by a strong sense of vertigo right before I feel something akin to being slapped into a hard wall. My whole body shakes with the impact even though physically I am standing still. And then nothing. Less than nothing. It is the absence of feeling all together. The three of us, Axel, Gideon, and myself, all look up. “Rosie,” we say in unison. Nothing else needs to be said. We all have a deep connection to her and even when we are
[Gideon] The look of sadness and terror on her face after I told her about her creation and her father's intentions for her made me wish I had kept my mouth shut and never said anything. And if she asked, if she simply had to know, I could have crafted a pretty lie to tell her, one that didn't make her feel like a monster. If I had only taken a few more moments to consider my words and the ripples they would create maybe we wouldn’t be taking turns standing around her hospital bed, waiting for her to wake up. The doctors said it was a “miracle” that she neither died nor miscarried from the impact of her fall. Our babies are still growing, still healthy. Because of her wolf DNA, she started healing as soon as she hit. Because of her Fae DNA, our babies, which now resemble a human embryo of 8 weeks instead of the life that started only days ago, have an extra layer of protection within her womb, an evolutionary advantage. But how did she survive that fall at all? Even a werewolf, no
[Gideon] “Victor,” I say as I turn around. “I was wondering when you would show yourself.” I try not to look anxious but I am wondering where Axel is. I could use his help right about now. “Gideon,” his grin is too wide, too white, and too pleased with his current situation. “I would say the same about you, but I can see that time hasn’t treated you well.” “What are you doing here, Victor?” I demand although I already know the answer. He is here for Rosie, his “daughter" whom he constructed out of spare parts and let loose into the world with no sense of who she is or what her place is in the world. He allowed her to be abused by her 'mother' who tortured her from the moment she was born. He doesn't deserve to be called anyone's father. He is no more a true father than he is a true witch. “You know why I’m here,” his grin grows impossibly wide as a small ball of darkness forms above his fingertips. “The only reason you and I are talking is because I want to make it clear to the
[Gideon] "ENOUGH!" I shout. Both men gape, their eyes staring. I hardly ever raise my voice and here I am, standing between these two big men, scolding them in the way Rosie often had to do to keep the peace. "Don't you see what you are doing? What he is making you do to one another? You are falling right into Vincent's trap. This is how he works. He messes with your mind first before he tears you apart in other ways. He wants us all at each other's throats so that we aren't focused on finding him and getting our Rosie back." The other two men paused, looking at one another as if trying to decide whether it was worth it. Does it matter if you are correct in an argument if it is at the expense of everyone you love? After a few more moments, they drop their arms to their sides. Exhaling deeply, I take a step back and watch them as they consider my words. This isn’t the first time they’ve been at each other’s throats, and it ended in Rosie getting hurt or worse. Axel and Evander’s
[Rosalynd] The room is cold and the air tastes stale. I am lying in a bed, covered with a sheet, but the surface is hard and unrelenting. It doesn't have the smell of a hospital, but it also doesn't have the smell of home either, which means that wherever I am, I am not safe. Because if I were safe, one of them would be here. My boys would never leave me. Which means that someone else must have me. And I can only think of one person who wants me this badly. Vincent. My father. Grand Warlock of the West Coast. The last thing I remember is falling right after Slone, in her confused fury, pushed me off the roof of Evander's casino hotel. She blames me for everything terrible that has happened to her and I can see why. But I didn't make her final decisions for her, that was all on her. I am sad about the loss of her child. No mother should feel their child slip away from them like that, but I will not apologize for defending my family and keeping them safe. She had no problem threaten
[Rosalynd] “This is not my home,” I manage to find enough strength to speak above a whisper. My voice echoes off the walls, sounding louder than I intended. “But if you could return me there, I’d be grateful. I’m sure my husbands are looking for me.” He laughs before putting goggles on and shaking his head. There is a body on a gurney in front of me. She has large white and blue wings and very pale skin. She looks a bit like a butterfly, a cabbage white, but in humanoid form. A pixie. They rarely venture out of Tara, but when they do, they tend to stay in remote or abandoned places. “I’m sure they are,” he agrees with me as he holds up a clean bone saw, dangling it above the body, moving it up and down as he talks as if he were holding a book or some other random object and not something designed to cut through layers of flesh and bone. “What happened to her,” I ask as we get close enough for me to see the holes in her wings and her still chest. She is either dead or in her y
[Rosalynd] I was expecting a freak show. I was expecting something terrifying. Nothing had prepared me for this. Children. Dozens of them. The floor beneath the hangar had been hollowed out and covered in some kind of tempered glass, making it transparent. There is a walkway of concrete about 4ft wide that borders the glass all the way around, as well as a few rows splitting it up and down and side to side so that there are clear pathways. Underneath it all there are children. All of them are different and
[Axel] “I’m sorry, My King, but your reasoning is dangerous, for all of us,” the tall man wheezed as he coughed into a handkerchief. His long, reedy fingers looked like a spider’s legs as he wrapped them around the edges of the long oak table. "You have been in Los Angeles for two weeks and yet none of your witches or leprechauns or wolves have been able to find her exact location. How many more of our people are going to die to bring your Queen home?" Gideon, Evander, and I are all standing at the head of the table as the leaders of the Southern California Fae Council gather to discuss the latest developments in the search for our Rosie. Evander is trying his hardest, but these damn fae won't listen to reason. I am so sick and tired of being the one who is standing up for Rosie. Seb Sanchez, the local alpha, had given us a solid lead. But by the time we got there, all we found was an empty warehouse. The next lead took us in the opposite direction and we ended up wandering lost