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He curses against my skin and snuggles. “How do human children survive if they can’t be around explosions even a little?”
“If I’m quite honest, I think it’s the absence of explosions that helps them.”
Frowning, he stares up at me. “Do you let children have any fun at that daycare of yours?”
“You mean my school?” I roll my eyes, slip from the chair onto the floor so we’re at the same level, and smile as he frees my leg. “No. None at all. I tried to let them have some fun, but my stupid school board says we don’t have money for fun.”
“Can you not make more money?”
“We’re small. We rely a lot on donations. We need to always be thinking ahead and watching our expenses so we can make sure we’re able to stay open.” Pulling my knees up, I wrap my arms around them. “I’ve been wanting to get a playground set for the kids for years. All we have is four boring swings, a sandbox without any sand, the gym, and a slice of cement for chalk.”
“Can the kids not make things to sell?”
I blink, lift my gaze to my monster companion, and arch a brow. “I know a fragment of my brain is not suggesting child labor. Why don’t I just send them to the coal mines? Wouldn’t their parents love that?”
He stretches one leg out and braces his arm on his other bent knee. “I’m afraid I don’t much understand the rules. If it’s something for the kids, why shouldn’t they help provide it?”
“Because they’re children. They’re supposed to be provided for.”
For several moments, Pollux stares at me, dark eyes transfixed and still. Finally, he says, “Oh. Okay.”
“What? Don’t tell me I’ve given you a horrific backstory with a terrible childhood. Parents who beat you, maybe? Why stop there? I bet they sent you to the coal mines with nothing but a crust of bread in your lunch pail.” My eyes narrow. “If you were lucky enough to have a lunch pail.”
He grunts. “Many faeries don’t have parents.”
“It got sadder. Way to go, me.”
“That’s not really the sad part.” His gaze drops to the dark sheet of stone beneath us. “I am made of fear. For humans and the brighter fae, my presence is revolting. The unseelie can handle me since we are made of similar dark pieces, but there are very few unseelie who don’t bear ill will. Fewer still who are more than beasts.”
“Sounds lonely,” I murmur.
“It has been. When you spend so much time isolated, you start to break inside.” He closes his claw against his chest, in the fabric of his shirt, and releases a tight breath before lifting his gaze to me. “You are salvation, Kassandra.”
I chuckle. “I’m really on an acid trip tonight. Humor me, though. How?”
“You are my soul’s mate. You are something powerful enough to override the fear of a dream eater. While I am a nightmare come alive, you hold reality in your palm. You can craft dreams and nightmares, truth and lies. You are the sun that eclipses me. The cure I’ve been searching my entire life for.”
My ego’s being a real drama queen tonight. Maybe I need something heavy to help with my no, you can’t have a playground bruises. “So I’m special?” I flutter my lashes. “And pretty? And powerful? And cool?” And, ultimately, totally deserving of my playground?
“You are something so feared I worry about giving you too much information all at once when you are so keen on rejecting it for reasons I am only beginning to understand run deep. You are something so dangerous I hesitate to share the truth with my best friend before I am able to make certain you understand how to handle the depths of your own self.”
“Best friend? You mentioned a best friend last time we ‘met,’ but that doesn’t match up with the narrative tonight.” I arch a brow and challenge the ability of my subconscious to maintain consistency. “I thought you were a lonely boy all by yourself in a sad corner.”
Sighing, he drags his fingers through my damp hair. “Cael is my best friend. He is also unseelie, and we have faced many ages together; however, he was able to mingle in places I could not and forge a home for himself in the light. He took on many responsibilities in an effort to build a better world for the people he cares about, including me, but his ambitions left little time for visitation.”
“Makes sense. Weird this is how my brain is breaking down the prince title. I like it better than cult leader, though.”
Pollux kisses my cheek. “We’re not a part of a cult, dearest.”
“That’s exactly what someone in a cult would say.”
“What am I going to do with you?”
“Tell me more about how cool, pretty, and interesting I am? Maybe? To make me feel better for not getting my playground.”
“You deserve an amazing playground.”
I grin. “Why, thank you. I know.”
