Page 7 of These Eternal Bones

Lighthouse the tools stopped being delivered soon after.

In their place, another artful bowl of first aid supplies.

This place seems to exist in a space of its own, untouched by time.

It's held to a different standard; a unique blend of whatever fabric makes up our world.

When the sun rises to its highest point, I venture into the woods, deeper and further away from the cottage and its lifesaving creek.

I cringe as a twig snaps dramatically, making my attempt at stealth seem silly at best. Why I feel the need to sneak around out here makes little sense, aside from the fact that I am certainly not alone.

Never alone, just like at home, but somehow the eyes feel less threatening here.

Again, I’m a stowaway, accepting help without knowing what it’ll cost me.

The idea of another Captain Faine being the reason for my survival makes my stomach churn, so I venture out, determined to be more self-sufficient until I can descend on my own.

That takes stockpiling food and supplies.

The servings of food are always generous, which makes it easier to save.

More than that, I want to level the playing field, if only just a little.

To stand on even ground with the person pulling the strings.

Just once. My belly lets out a rumble at the thought of food, even though I am being well fed.

There’s always such a wide range of things to try that I can barely contain my excitement.

The first time I saw the little brown bars wrapped in golden foil, I’d been almost nervous to try them.

The bittersweet taste of chocolate bursting on my tongue was a near biblical experience, forcing a guttural moan from my mouth.

The chocolates are sent every time now.

I’m being watched.

Observed.

Like a rat in a maze.

A shiver breaks over my spine as I pass underneath a large tree.

Something whispering along the back of my neck makes me pick up my pace, gripping the bag I fashioned out of the battered set of sheets and worn rope from the second clothesline.

I’d never thought myself crafty outside of painting, but–

My steps halt abruptly at the sound of crashing waves, the same one I’ve been following for hours, but it’s the break in the trees…

the onyx base of a monstrous building that has me ho lding my breath.

I don’t need to see the rest of the structure to know what it is.

The lighthouse stands like more of a warning than a beacon as I approach it, my heart thundering in my chest as the earthy musk of the woods finally gives way to the salty spray of the ocean.

This is what you wanted, right? The who…if you could not have the why.

You wanted to see, I remind myself.

Right before I turn and run away.

Again.

Him

The putrid taste that fills my mouth is only second to the mind-numbing agony that buds in my fangs, radiating like shockwave after shockwave until it reaches every inch of my being.

The small creature in my arms writhes and whimpers.

It’s been three days since my little human has poked around my lighthouse, even now I can smell her lilac scent on the wind, beckoning me like a cosmic joke.

One where I am ever the punchline as I drink from this wretched being.

The Asrai’s tail whips harshly, its lungs deprived of substance as its hands cling to me.

Like all creatures in the face of my bite, desperate for the release, even if it means certain death.

A pained sound leaves my throat, growing agitated with its thrashing.

Even the bite of my claw goes unnoticed as I open a vein on the pathetic creature's wrist. It’s a waste of blood, but the less of the rancid substance, the better.

The very thing that sustains me brings me unfathomable agony, the sense of a soul-deep betrayal.

The blood, like always, answers my call, in any form, any being.

It recognizes my dominion. I’m its master, as I pull from the wound, twisting it into a rope and letting it harden as it binds around the fishlike tail of the Asrai, quieting its thrashing until I take my final pained gulp.

My mind frayed by the agony that will persist for hours, a penance I pay honorably, knowing of all the things…

this is perhaps the most deserved. I release its throat, filling my mouth with my bittersweet venom before spitting it on the ground to rid myself of the taste.

Like a gift or a curse, the smell of lilac hits me then, strong and pungent, her timid steps breaking the clearing as I wrap more tendrils around the fae creature, sending it over the edge of my balcony and out of sight, the thud of its body too faint to reach her.

Stealing my jaw, I brace myself on the railing, wiping my mouth clean of blood as a riot of copper-colored hair fills my vision.

You need only look up, little syringa, to see me.

My tendrils snap wildly toward her before I release them, the blood misting as it dematerializes.

I can feel it, every molecule in every single thing as it catches the wind.

My breath halts in my chest as determined forest green eyes turn on me, her gasp dancing across my flesh as she sees me.

Her steps falter, my newest gift draped around her shoulders as the colder days set in.

She takes a step back to the wood line, and my damned heart lurches at the sight of it as she turns and runs.

“It is much too late for that.” I breathe out, inhaling her deep into my lungs. “Tien!”

“You called.”

I don’t turn to glance at the Chimera. “Send one of the others into town, update everything she may need in the manor.”

“Very well.” He grumbles, blipping out of the room, an ability he retained from his original fae form, as well as his long cursed life.

I jump off the balcony, my suit coat slapping out behind me from the fall.

Calling forth my tendrils, I affix them across my stomach and chest in a morbid corset of armor as I set off after her.

I am a patient man, with eons to show for it, but I can only watch her run so many times before I give chase.

It is no more my choice than my need for blood, no more my choice than it is for the sun to rise and set each day without falter. Such things are simply inevitable.

It’s late into the night when she braves the outside of her cottage, no doubt hiding from me now that she’s laid eyes on me without the fever to alleviate most of the shock.

She’d murmured and whimpered, asking for another man for hours that night.

I’d nearly decimated the cottage, jerking her filth-riddled body off the bed and forcing her into my manor.

I could’ve washed her, doted on her, saved her from the cold before replacing it with my own.

I did none of those things.

My fangs elongate against my will, prodding my lower lip.

I call on the blood that buds there, whisking it away with a flick of my wrist as she hugs herself tightly, heading toward the creek.

My senses spike as she glances around, huffing in annoyance before roughly jerking at the buttons on the back of her dress.

Even with her brow pinched, and her delicate features pulled into a frown she is utsukushī.

Beautiful.

My death grip on the branch I’m lounging on cracks through the wood, making her head swivel toward the sound.

My breath halts, dismissing my tendrils as they spring away from my body.

The moonlight rarely hits my woods, but of course, it would make an exception for her.

Her copper hair is wild like flames as it frizzes away from her head, cascading down her back.

I don’t risk so much as a blink when she lowers the stained garment, baring the smooth expanse of her back.

“I-If there is something out there, I would appreciate my dignity being left intact. If you could k-kindly look away.” Even trembling her words stuttered, she shows her claws.

I smirk, an odd and foreign use of the muscles as I look upward, averting my eyes just as the fabric hits the ground.

Having an excellent sense of hearing has its pitfalls.

Each step she takes…her toes curling around the grass, the break in the water as she steps in.

The gasp as she dunks herself…each movement is a taunt. A tease.

It’s then that I decide this frustrating game of cat and mouse has reached its end. If my little human will not come to me, I will go to her.