Page 96 of Resurrection

“You still ache,” Seiran said.

“Yeah, that’s normal. It will fade. Faster the more I move.”

Seiran sighed thoughtfully and a bit needy. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Gabe said again. “Love you.” He felt the words settle through him solidifying their bond. He couldn’t recall feeling this at peace in a long time. Rested and bonded, he was ready for whatever was coming his way. They’d have to work at balancing their powers, especially now that Gabe had no intent of hiding his any longer. But as long as the world didn’t explode, they had plenty of time.

“I love you, too,” Seiran said. “Not forgiven though.”

“That’s okay,” Gabe agreed as he picked up Seiran and headed for the bed. “I’ve got some great persuasive techniques.”

“Yeah?”

“Be happy to demonstrate.”

Seiran sighed. “You’re too pretty to hate.”

“You like me for more than my pretty face.”

“Itisvery appealing. Body isn’t bad either.”

“My my, Mr. Rou, are you claiming you only want my body?”

Seiran made a pained sound, his legs tightening around Gabe’s waist. “Maybe for a few hours at least?”

“I thought you were researching?”

“A break wouldn’t kill me, and then maybe a nap?”

Gabe smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

Epilogue

Page arrived with a military escort. He had expected execution instead of receiving a room not unlike a posh apartment. It was the nicest living space he’d ever had with a full bedroom, bathroom, and living room, no kitchen or even hot plate like his dorm had. He suspected that would have been a safety issue. There were also wards everywhere, etched into the walls themselves. And the fact that they locked him in was certainly an indication he wasn’t free to come and go as he pleased.

He’d been allowed to call his mother, informed that all lines were recorded and monitored. He even had limited Wi-Fi access to the news. No social media allowed. It felt weird to be so silent online. But Page had to admit he didn’t have a lot of friends who weren’t across the country or the world. He had spent the past six months hiding. His family blackmailing him, threatening him and his mother, and he’d tried to lose himself in the shadow of Seiran Rou, Director of Magical Investigations.

No one had noticed him there, Seiran’s power eclipsed them all, and most brushed him aside. Page was really glad he didn’t have to worry about a role like the Pillar. Magically chosen to be a political pawn. What a nightmare.

Page’s first week in lockdown, however nice his cell might be, was spent in and out of questioning. He’d been led to a dozen tiny rooms, all etched with nullifying symbols and that weird ache in his bones that told him magic would be harder there. The first two questioning sessions he’d been locked in one of those by himself and questioned through an intercom system.

Trying to understand his state of mind, perhaps?

Seiran had been his third interview, sitting down with Page on the couch in Page’s room, aka cell, to ask things. He did record the session, both on his computer and an audio device. Page had seen both used enough to know how they worked. The questions from Seiran had been mostly benign. A lot about Page’s mental health.

The hardest to answer had been one Page still lingered on. Was he still suicidal?

The answer was maybe?

Page teetered between depression and hope most days. Reflecting back on the things he’d been a part of made him feel used, worthless, and morally bankrupt. He could spend hours trying to think of different ways he could have changed things. His family might have killed him for it, but that didn’t seem to matter much now. He expected the execution order to come at him any day.

Yet as each day stretched on, he began to think maybe not? But that made no sense. Witches died. It was how the Dominion worked. The rich and powerful ruled with an iron fist. What was okay for them, was not for the rest of the world. And Page had never been part of the elite.

His mother had cried when they talked the first time. It had been all Page could do to hold himself together. She blamed herself. But she’d done the best she could. Now their conversations were more mundane. He tried to call her at least every other day. Sometimes the questioning got to be a lot, and he just wanted to sleep. Hearing her voice soothed him in a way that he couldn’t really explain.

The last two days had been quiet. No one in to take him to another meeting, and the only time he saw anyone was for his meals, which were delivered by the guards. After two and a half weeks of endless meetings, interviews, and medical reviews, the alone time was eerie.

He wished he had something to read. Other than the news.