Page 7 of Change

“The female fae—” he said, and there was something about the tone in his voice that pulled my focus. His eyes were sharp and angry. “—are outnumbered in our culture, at least five to one. The disparity is larger within the ruling families. Women are not placed in harm’s way under any circumstances, and they absolutely do not fight.”

That did not answer my question.

“But…” I twisted the ring around my finger. “I… What about—”

“You’re different.” Dr. Stephens seemed to grow older, and the room darker, as he spoke. “You were raised as a human. It would be useless to isolate you now, but had you been raised at Whisperwind, you would never have left the home until you were eleven.”

“Julian mentioned Whisperwind before.” I bit my lip. “When he dived into my memories. I thought it was the name of a hospital.”

“It’s your mother’s birthplace, and where she grew up. It is also where you were born,” Dr. Stephens answered.

“Oh.” I couldn’t help but to feel that pressing forward onthistopic was opening myself up to a discussion I wasn’t quite ready to have—at least with him.

“They were upset, you know,” Dr. Stephens continued. “Damen and Titus.”

It was his softened tone, and the lack of honorifics in their names, that pulled at my attention this time. He was watching me with the most peculiar expression as he rested his chin on his fist, and the air between us seemed to grow thick with something I couldn’t quite place.

“What do you mean?”

“Bailey,” he replied, deep-green eyes cautiously taking in my reaction. But I’d grown almost numb to the mention of the other me by this point. I didn’t mean to be insensitive, or even evil, but Bailey—the other me—almost didn’t feel like something that wasalive.

Nor ever had been.

But that was probably because I hadn’t been there, so he was only a name. And one that took my place, while I was taken from where I was meant to be.

“I’m sorry they were,” was the only response I could think of. Since I’d never grown up in this world—at least that I’d been aware—the entire concept of our bond and feeling each other was foreign to me sometimes. While I admitted that it felt right to be around the boys, and that not seeing them did have a profound effect on me, I couldn’t imagine the difference if one of us perished.

“What do you make of ‘Bailey’?” There was something about the way he said the name of my doppelganger that made me draw my brows together in suspicion.

Besides, what kind of question was that?

“Nothing much,” I replied honestly. “I don’t like to think about it.” Since we were on the topic of rude questions, maybe it was time for one for him. “How does it feel?”

“How does what feel?”

There was no way to ask this kindly though—even though he didn’t really deserve it by this point—but there was a morbid part of me that needed to know. “When, um…” I glanced toward the ring as I chewed on my bottom lip. “Kathleen…”

Darn it, I’d wanted to be heartless, but now I just felt mean.

But also, I really was curious.

“How does it feel when a quintet member dies?” Dr. Stephens was able to interpret my fragmented, and not at all concise, question.

I touched my knees together. “I’m sorry,” I breathed. I shouldn’t have asked—I was the worst person ever. “Don’t answer. I’m super rude.”

“I told you to stop apologizing,” Dr. Stephens said.

“Sorry.” I wasn’t able to stop myself before the word slipped out again, and I covered my mouth with my fingers. I blinked at him, apologizing with my eyes instead.

Dr. Stephens rolled his eyes but let my slip-up pass without mention. Then he leaned forward on his desk, lowering his eyebrows as his voice deepened in seriousness. “When a quintet member dies, a part of you is literally being stripped away. It’s a feeling you’ll carry for the rest of your life,” he said, his words almost a warning. “It’s extremely unpleasant. It also depends on how close you were, because we have our normal, non-quintet connection too. Michael was my best friend, and his death affected me very much even though I’d expected it. I was stunned for weeks before being able to function again. By then it was too late.”

Too late for what? But he didn’t clarify, moving on before I could ask.

“The situation is different in your case.” His tone had taken on a stern authority that he’d never really applied to me before. “I’m an officerandwas on the Council. I’malsonot an idiot. I know very well the relationship Mu had with his quintet—it’s the same relationship you’ve carried on ineverylife. Plus, I know exactly what Mr. Damen was up to out there in the hallway.”

Which would be what? He was only acting foolish. Again.

Dr. Stephens groaned, hiding his hand in his face. “Just don’t let your guard down—at least make him suffer a little bit. Besides, I need you to be aware that your relationship, whatever it might be, with your quintet is unique on a number of levels. The five of you have sharedcountlesslives together, and each time your bonds grow stronger. A quintet death, in your case, would be far worse than anything I could imagine.”