Page 117 of Anomalies

A tear falls down Lucina’s cheek when Gemma lets her go, her skin still pale and her eyes still wide. My brows furrow when she opens her mouth, then shuts it. As if she’s afraid to speak or simply can’t.

“She’s probably in shock,” one of the nurses says, reading the confusion on my face, and Lucina swallows thickly as her gaze slides to the nurse. “We can keep you here overnight, if you’d like, make sure everything is out of your system.”

Lucina tenses up in my arms, shaking her head once.

Gemma and I look at each other, concern on my face and confusion on hers. Something is wrong. She looks fucking terrified, and I can’t blame her, but Lucina Van Reenan isn’t timid, and she certainly isn’t quiet. Even after I pulled her out of that fire, she had the capacity to make jokes, that’s how she copes with things that scare her, but this…this is different.

“That’s okay,” I tell her gently, pulling her wide-eyed attention. “You don’t have to stay here. Can I take you back with me?”

She nods. Once. Then her eyes well with tears.

I glance at Gemma, who still has no answers for me, but I don’t want Lucina to sense my panic. I don’t want to make any of this worse. “I’m going to pick you up, okay? Hold on for me.” I pull her arm around my shoulder, then I gather her to my chest and stand.

“I’ll come by first thing in the morning to check on you,” Gemma tells her, and Lucina nods. No words. She won’t speak.

My entire coven is waiting on the porch when I get home, and Lucina lifts her head when she sees them. Pax, Hunter, Phoenix, Easton…and even Devon–they’re all tense and frozen to the spot. She still hasn’t said a word, but there is something about the way they’re all waiting there that softens something in my chest.

Lucina’s eyes lift to mine, and I smile at the confusion in her stare. “I think they’re here for you,” I tell her, and her brows furrow, as if she doesn’t quite understand. “Do you want them to leave?”

She shakes her head, then she pulls her leg up, determined to stand. My arm falls away, and I gently set her to the ground, but I keep hold of her hand, lacing her fingers through my own. It takes her a second to find her footing, but then she’s climbing the porch steps, squeezing my hand as we go.

“Boss,” Devon says, and I turn my head towards him.

“Get me Fenton Thorneveil,” I reply with a certain edge to my voice that has all of their spines snapping straight. “I need him alive.” Then I reach over Lucina’s head and push the door open for her.

She stumbles silently into the living room, looking back to make sure I followed, as if I’d be anywhere else right now. Life has returned to her skin, but there is something about her that is missing. Maybe it’s her voice. Maybe that’s all it is.

The bedroom door creaks open, and the smallest hint of color blooms across her cheeks when she notices the sheets and how they’re all out of sorts from where I dragged her across them earlier. But there is no witty comment, or taunting joke, and she would have made one. She would have said something if she were the Lucina I came home to today, but instead she just slumps down on the edge of the mattress and reaches for her boots⁠—

“Let me,” I blurt out, and her eyes snap up to mine. She watches me curiously as I kneel before her, her gaze boring into the side of my face as I gently tug off her shoes, then her socks, and when I reach for the zipper of her dress, she doesn’t stop me. I pull it down, and the fabric slides off her shoulders to pool at her waist.

She isn’t wearing anything under her dress, but I keep my eyes pinned on hers, tugging the material past her hips, and her skin litters in goosebumps.

“Stay here.” I fold the red fabric and stand, rifling through the top drawer of the dresser until I find the softest t-shirt I own. Her eyes are trained on me when I return, whole yet devastatingly vacant. “Arms up.”

She does as I say, finding her way through the arm holes until the grey fabric falls over her chest, bunching over the top of her thighs. I come to a crouch before her, brushing a thumb over her cheekbone bone and she ever so slightly leans into the touch.

“Say something. Please. Anything.”

Her eyes dart back and forth between my own. Then she pulls back the covers and takes hold of my hand. It’s hardly more than a whisper, but it might just be the best thing I’ve ever heard, “Stay.”

I’m unclipping my vest in an instant, sliding it off my shoulders until it hits the ground with a heavy thud. I unlace my boots and pull my t-shirt over my head, then I slip under the sheets she’s now wrapped in. We both exhale when I slide a hand across her waist and pull her flush to my chest.

If we could just stay like this, I might actually stand a chance in keeping her safe. I might finally be able to protect her.

Lucina laces her fingers through my own, gently brushing against the pad of my thumb while I press soft kisses into her shoulder. Everything about her feels small, as if the Ashvine shrunk that fire inside of her—as if it snuffed that light entirely.

“Lucina,” I breathe, and she hums to tell me she’s listening. “I’m going to have to kill him.”

I feel her lungs inflate against me, then they fall. “I know.”

“It won’t be painless.”

“I know,” she says again, her breaths coming out soft and even, and just when I think she’s fallen asleep, her voice cuts through the pitch black. “Callan?”

“Yes, baby,” I say instantly, folding my arm across the pillow, lightly running my fingers through her hair, and she twists until those big hazel eyes are peering up at me.

“I heard you,” she whispers. “I heard everything you said. I heard Gemma too.”