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Shaw

I cling to her, holding her naked body as close to me as I possibly can. Our kiss is slow but deep. Her lips move with mine, and it’s not the cold air and snow landing on my skin that has it rippling into goosebumps.

It’s her. It’s always her and always will be.

My arms encase her, and she shivers in the cold. Reaching down, I scoop up her long coat and wrap it around her.

I am amazed at the sheer amount of forgiveness she can offer. I would have slaughtered me the first night we met if I were her. And I would have slaughtered us all a hundred times over by now, for sure.

Not her. Part blood witch. Now a goddess of the earth.

And with the heart of an angel.

‘It won’t happen again,’ I tell her. ‘I’ll get the nightmares under control. I promise.’

I can’t see her scream like that again. I can’t, and I won’t. I rest my head on her chest and hold her closer still.

‘It probably will happen again,’ she replies, caressing my check and offering me a sympathetic smile. ‘And that’s okay. We’re just a little broken right now, but it will pass.’

‘I made the walls bleed.’ I shudder. ‘I made Cole almost-’

‘You didn’t do it on purpose. We’ll get there. It will be okay. I’m here to help in any way I can.’

‘I’m supposed to be the strong one helping you.’

‘Oh, Dream Walker. I’m like a tree. Cut me down, and I just grow back stronger.’

I wince at her words, my body tensing without instruction from me.

‘What?’ she asks, peering down at me with a slight frown. ‘What is it?’

‘Don’t… Don’t call me Dream Walker, Pixie.’

She scoffs out a little laugh but soon sees I’m serious.

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

She starts to pull away, but I firm my arms around her, keeping her in place.

‘That’s what you called me when you were mad at me. When you were so full of hatred that you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak our names. I don’t call you Ashe because you told me that that was the name they gave you. Your coven. Cole. The man who raised you as though he hated you. You don’t call me Dream Walker. I don’t call you Ashe.’

Her features soften, and I get a lingering kiss on my forehead.

‘Deal. Now, let’s go home. Before my tits freeze and fall off.’

We stand, and I take her hand in mine as we make our way back to the cottage.

When we walk inside, Dorian is back inside his mortal form, and Archie is tending to the fire in the hearth. Their clothes are still bloody from the manifestation of the nightmare, and it’s clear they’ve just been sitting here waiting for us to return.

Dorian simply rests a hand on my shoulder. His forgiveness offered without a sound. Archie throws his arms around me.

‘You had us worried, mate.’ His forehead meets mine, and he looks into my eyes.

He grounds me. Assures me I’m not alone. That it’s not only our Pixie who understands and accepts our combined violence and damage. We’re all broken. She’s right about that. And we’re all ready to fix the others. No matter how dangerous we have all become.

Archie’s eyes flick past me to her. She nods as he speaks to her through the Mate Bond they share.

I long to hear her thoughts. To feel what she feels. To share something that’s just ours.

Just mine.

‘I’m going to clean up,’ she says.

I look again at her bloody body and matted hair. Her skin is so pale, and her hair is so ashen, blood stands out in a frightening way against her.

‘Want some company?’ Arch asks hopefully. ‘I could scrub your back?’

‘I’m good,’ she replies with an eye roll.

‘Too full of Shaw’s juices to play with me? You know I don’t mind sharing.’

‘Never, ever, ever call it that again, Archie,’ she sneers. ‘It’s up there with the words moist, flesh rod, my weeping pussy, kitty cat, minge or foo foo, cum catcher and ribbed little cave of forbidden treasure.’

‘The list of words I’m not allowed to say is growing every day,’ Archie sighs with a massive grin. ‘You wash up, Pix. We’ve got a treat planned today.’

‘What treat?’ she asks.

They both look at me. Today is my idea.

And I’m determined to make amends for this morning’s horror show.

‘Dress warm, Pix,’ I tell her. ‘You'll love it. Trust me.’

‘Oh,’ she sighs happily, gripping my hand as we face the frozen pond. ‘This is beautiful!’

The pond isn’t too deep, and thanks to its stillness and the constant snow fall, it has completely frozen over.

Archie puts the picnic down and pulls his coat around his neck, shivering against the cold. Despite his red nose and slightly blue lips, he beams as he always does, packed to the brim with excitement.

I open my satchel.

‘These are for you,’ I tell her, pulling out my surprise.

Pixie takes the two bones with strips of leather attached and looks at me as though I have gone mad.

‘Oh. They’re lovely,’ she says. She has no idea what the hell they are and is keen not to cause me offence. To be fair, it is an odd thing to be given without any context. ‘Are they the bones of my enemies or something?’

She doesn’t want to touch them. The last time she saw a load of bones wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience.

‘They’re animal. The shin bone of a cow, Pixie.’ I take them from her and kneel, taking her foot in my hand and getting to work.

The two others are busy attaching theirs, and I admit I enjoy the nervous little glimmer in her eyes as she looks from me to the pond.

She wobbles as I stand and grip her hands, helping her to balance.

‘She good?’ Dorian asks.

‘I think so.’ I let her go, and she stares at her feet, where two bones are attached to the soles of her boots. ‘She’s got pretty good balance-’

She yelps and falls flat on her backside, hitting the snow with a thud.

We’re all quick to help her back up, and none of us let her go this time.

‘Is this a new form of torture I’m unaware of?’ she laughs, gripping my arm as she slips and slides between us.

‘It’s ice skating,’ I reply. ‘Not torture. Just fun.’

‘I like fun.’

I grip her hands, and the two others step back. We watch them make their way to the ice.

Dorian and Archie glide onto its surface. They’re both uneasy at first. Archie is soon off, circling the pond with grace. Dorian takes a couple of strides… and falls flat on his arse.

The ice holds, so I know it will withstand anything.

Pixie laughs so hard that she loses her balance. I catch her before she falls and start to make our way to the pond.

‘Don’t let me fall,’ she says, watching my feet meet the ice.

‘I will never let you fall,’ I assure her.

She steps out, trusting my words. Trusting me. She slips, but I have her.

‘Keep your eyes up. Look ahead. Not down or behind you.’

‘Never truer words have been said,’ she retorts.

‘Now is not the time for deep and meaningfuls, Pixie,’ I smile. ‘Focus on staying on your feet.’

‘I thought you preferred me on my back.’

‘Or on all fours!’ Archie calls over just as he does an impressive spin on one foot.

How the fuck has he managed to be so good so quickly?

We get a few feet onto the ice and stop. She grips me tightly, still looking at her feet.

I rest my finger under her chin and lift.

‘I said head up, Pixie.’

‘Yes, My Lord .’

I lead her further onto the ice and give her all the tips and pointers I can think of.

‘Bend your knees. Keep low. Glide each foot outwards and away from your other foot. Slide, Pixie. Gentle and sure.’

‘Gentle and sure…’ she whispers, biting her lower lip nervously as she nods.

She starts to move, giggling and yelping at every bit of movement. But I have her. She’s safe.

‘You do this often?’ she asks.

‘Not of late. No. But I did many years ago.’

‘Tell me.’

She stumbles. I keep her up.

‘I watched a young girl skate once. A very long time ago. It was in her dreams but so vivid. She enjoyed it so much. Then, when I was trapped in this witch’s body all those years ago, I thought I would give it a go. I went to a lake, attached some bones to my shoes, and off I went.’

‘Were you good?’

‘No,’ I laugh, shaking my head. ‘I was awful. Never mind the fact that I was new to being shoved and sealed inside a serial killer’s skin suit, ice skating is tricky.’

Dorian slides past us on his front, face down and swearing as Archie glides past us going backwards.

Show off.

Pixie is looking up at me with a sweet little smile.

‘What?’

‘It amazes me that one of the first things you did when you were made human was to try out something that made a little girl so happy in her dreams.’

She certainly did enjoy to skate. It was her ultimate happy place.

‘How come you watched her dreams?’ she asks.

‘I watched hundreds. Thousands of people’s dreams. Even more of their nightmares. It’s all I did for a long time. Before…’

‘Neve,’ she finishes. Her gaze falls. ‘My mother. Who trapped you and the others.’

‘An act that led us to you, Pixie.’

‘A poor consolation prize for all the pain her actions caused.’

The pain we caused because of her is what she means. The witches we slaughtered. The blood and devastation we left in our wake.

None of which I particularly care about. Those aren’t the things that keep me up at night or fuel my nightmares. The witches I killed barely register to me. Their faces aren’t even worthy of being a blur. But Neve’s face does. The way she stole my freedom. How she manipulated and controlled me in a way I could never comprehend.

How she and her sisters made Archie and Dorian suffer so much.

How she almost destroyed our wild little witch.

I may not care about the death we brought into this world nor the copious amount of blood we devoured or shed.

But Pixie does. And that bothers me more than I wish it did.

I’ve never cared about the opinions of others.

But hers is all I think about.

I can be a monster. A villain. A killer. A soulless beast.

But not to her. Never again. She saw that side of me and loves me still.

Archie passes us again, one leg in the air and his arms outstretched.

Pixie laughs and nods as he speaks to her in his mind.

‘What did he say?’ I ask.

‘He asked if I was having a good time.’

I pull her further along, encouraging her to brave the ice a little more. She does, letting go with one hand so she can give it a go.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says.

‘For what? You’re not that bad.’

‘Archie and I have our Mate Bond. Dorian and I share a bit of our souls. They feel a bit of me that you can’t. I would carve out something for you to keep if it would make things fair.’

‘No carving, thank you,’ I reply. But I don’t argue that I resent the fact that they own parts of her I can’t touch.

‘I love you,’ she says.

I look down at her as she peers up at me.

‘I know.’

‘You better. And by the way. If you ever try to leave me again, I will bury you alive and keep you forever in a cave where you’ll never be able to escape.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Yep.’

‘I may like that. Sealed away. Having you all to myself. Deep underground where no one can hear you scream.’

‘Well. I already have your Christmas gift organised. But your birthday is just around the corner. Perhaps we could organise something.’

‘My birthday? I don’t have a birthday.’

‘I think January is a good month to have a birthday, don’t you think? Seeing as you don’t actually know when your birthday is. Dorian’s birthday will be when the first bud blooms without my intervention, and Archie’s birthday will be when the first leaf falls.’

Only she would think it’s worthwhile to give us birthdays. I have no intention of marking off my years. Especially as we have no idea yet how or if a creature like her ages.

‘What have you got me for Christmas?’ I ask.

‘You’ll have to wait and see. But I think you’ll like it.’ She rests her hand softly over my crotch and stands on her tiptoes. ‘Very. Very much.’

She grips me. I lose my balance. And we fall onto the ice in a heap, her body landing on mine as she lets out a beautiful giggle.

We skate for hours and eat our picnic under snowfall. When the sun starts to set, we head back home and gather around the fire to warm ourselves.

Dorian reads in his armchair. Archie is in his wolf form on the floor by the fire, curled around Pixie. The pair are fast asleep. Her face is lost in the length of his fur, and her head rises and falls as he breathes.

My pencil sweeps across the parchment, and it’s peaceful in every sense of the word.

Until the walls start to groan.

Dorian and I both look up at the ceiling. The vines that cover it slowly turn black. The leaves rot and die, replaced with protruding thorns growing inches in length.

We slowly look to Pixie. Her eyes dance behind her lids, and her breathing has become jagged and sharp.

The house shifts, and the wall of bark cracks.

We’re both up and on our feet in a second.

‘Shaw…’

‘I’m on it,’ I reply.

With an exhale, I slip into the dream world, finding her nightmares quickly.

Blood. There’s nothing but a sea of blood and black mountains. The endless ocean holds endless souls, all clawing at it in desperation, trying hard to reach the shore.

Pixie stands at the shoreline, her feet in the wash as blood laps on the black sand.

She reaches out to those souls. To the damned.

Chains shoot up from beneath her and wrap around her body. Her screams as they start to drag her into the sea are filled with terror.

I run towards her as she claws at the sand. She sees me and screams for me.

‘SHAW!’ she cries as those chains pull her into the sea. ‘SHAW HELP ME!’

I leap to reach her, but she slips through my fingers and is dragged into the sea of blood.

Seconds later, before I have even stood up, the sea explodes and out comes a giant form of my Pixie. There is a chain around her throat and manacles around her wrists as she screams in rage and fear.

The souls come for her.

For their new blood goddess here in hell, trapped and confined to be used by blood witches for her power.

Her gaze lands on me. And there is such malice in them. My Pixie isn’t in there. None of the goodness. The kindness. The forgiveness.

She is evil incarnate.

Her hand reaches out for me, ready to crush and kill me.

I wave my hand, taking control of this nightmare of hers.

Hell fades. A beach replaces it. A wintery shore of snow and ice with a sky full of silver stars that shimmer and shine. The moon is full, and the air is warm.

She enjoys the snow. But she likes the warm, too. The great thing about controlling her dreams is that I can give her the impossible.

Pixie falls to the floor and screams, clutching her heart as she expels it all into the world I have given her.

I stand here, still and silent, watching her raw and violent release.

When she looks up at me through tears, I swallow dryly. Her hand reaches out for me. I go to her. I will always go to her.

In my arms, she cries until she can’t anymore. When she’s expelled all she can, we just sit in silence for the longest while on our snow-covered beach, gazing at the stars I made.

‘You’re wrong, you know,’ she says finally.

‘Am I? About what?’

‘You do have a part of me that they don’t.’

I peer down at her as she looks back at me.

‘You have my dreams. Something they will never see. Something they will never understand. But you do. Here, we’re in our own world. Just us. A place and part of me that no one will ever see but us. A pain only you can save me from.’

I kiss her warm neck and hold her tightly. She’s right, I suppose. I have her dreams. I have her nightmares. I could keep her here for all eternity if I wanted and never let her go. We walk for hours here, and I see parts of her that no one else has ever witnessed.

It’s a shame so many of the horrors I save her from are all our fucking fault.