Page 88 of Rot In Knotty Pieces

He crawls up my body and presses himself against my back. His arms and legs wrap around me, tight. For the first time since they left, I can breathe. I’m crying. When did I start crying? And shaking.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“My guess is bond sickness,” Rose whispers.

“We don’t have bonds, though,” I protest and then cry out, writhing in his arms as my stomach spasms painfully.

“I think you want them. Or your body does.”

“It feels like they are dead. Or that something terrible is going to happen. I can’t control it, my thoughts, this fear.”

Sage crawls into bed naked and hugs me from the front. I’m surrounded by walls of molten flesh, and it’s helping, but the keening won’t stop.

I can’t force the images of them being dead from my mind. I can’t stop anything.

“Nothing is going to happen to them, Kestrel. You are safe. Raven, Merle, Jay, Dove, Raptor, all of you listen to me. Nothing is going to happen to them. They will come back, they are coming back. Breathe with us.”

He falls silent, but after five seconds, the silence sounds like thunder and is crushing me.

“Talk to me!” I say sharply. “Distract me. Please. Oh, god, it hurts. Please.”

“Someone walked up to me today. She slapped me and accused me of having an affair with you.”

It takes far too long for my mind to catch up to Sage’s amused words.

“What?”

“I know. It was strange. She thought I was someone else. She was so apologetic. I don’t think anyone has aplogised to me that much before. Ever. She said she’s going to drop over a sorry cake.”

“What’s a sorry cake?”

“I have no idea, but I’m sure it will be tasty.”

Rose snickers, and the amusement and relaxed feel of the alphas is calming to my overwrought nerves.

Sage leans forward and kisses my forehead.

“What if you were to give me bonds?” I whisper.

Sage hesitates.

“No,” Roseland whispers to my neck.

“No? No, you won’t?” It feels like the floor drops out, leaving me broken and tumbling alone.

“No, we can’t.”

“Why?” I whisper harshly. “Why?” I shout louder. “What’s wrong with me? Why not?”

“Because it’s not just you, and you all need to be on the same page, and I know there is one of you who will refuse because she’s already refused. I won’t force any of your alters to bond with us, Kestrel, and I won’t let the others do it either. I’m sorry.”

I lay in their arms, refusing to speak, even though they try for hours.

The pain it’s heavy, and I feel like I’m outside my body, watching it from a dark tunnel far away. Moving is too hard, speaking is beyond me.

In my dissociative state, I don’t consciously think, but thoughts just arrive and puzzle pieces put themselves together in ways that my brain can’t when I’m in my body.

We’ve been going for walks every day. The toy train was on the road, it had an eagle etched on its side. There was a bat painted in fresh spray paint, the bin lid up, the rubbish strewn. Alarms going off. There were strange cars parked in the same spot. I remember seeing signs up about missing cats and a middle-aged tourist who hadn’t been seen. There was a big search for them. A bird sketched on the corner of the picture of the old man who went for a walk with his dog and never came home.