The steady hum of the bond was loud in her ears, a turbulent rumble of sound that tried to block out all else. Hand slapping over her chest, she tried to hold shut the jagged pain that seeped her soul out into the air. She was shocked to find her skin was whole and sound as ever, expecting some deep hole instead.
Prying her eyes open, she toppled her head to the side to look at him. Collapsed on the bed beside her, every limb slack with something close to defeat, he looked haggard and exhausted. A snide voice in her head thought he looked very much how she felt these past months, and it served him right.
“No doctors. No pills,” she rasped when he turned to look at her. Her hands shook, her body hurt in ways she didn’t know it could, but she’d be damned if she let this go.
Understanding darkened his gaze, the knowledge that she’d do this again and again, every chance she got, hardening the twilight evergreen. He would either have to keep her in a sunlit stupor for the rest of their days or destroy her.
Neither was an option.
“All right.”
“Thank you.” It was so much harder to say than it should have been. Words pried out of her mouth, having to force her tongue and lips to form the simple words.
It was a start.
“I hope we both don’t regret it.” His smile was stiff, but it wasn’t his usual arrogant smirk that drove her insane and for that she would overlook the tension bunching his shoulders.
They lay there in silent contemplation of one another, each gauging this new turn of events and taking stock of their adversary. She wasn’t helpless anymore, not after what he’d done. Knowing she could hurt him, that she could push back and defy him even when he was trying to sap her strength, was dizzying. He could win, eventually, but at a great cost to them both. One neither could keep up for long.
In a strange twist, she found that his pain didn’t cause the elation she had thought it would. Deserved, yes, but there was no sick joy seeing the rough lines around his eyes or the way his cheeks looked sunken.
Nodding towards the bathroom, he reached for his cell phone. “Go start, I’ll call off the cavalry.”
As much as she wanted to remain and listen to the conversation, Quinn dragged herself to the edge of the bed to begin the trek to the bathroom. Legs feeling loose and weak, she tried not to snarl when Tobias took her elbow and helped her down from the high bed. Even kept her grumbling to a bare minimum as he tucked the bit of glass and plastic between shoulder and cheek to support her the rest of the way.
Tobias chose to ignore it, or at least to let it slide. The uneasy stalemate would hold for now, and he basked in the fact that at least they were not fighting. For however long it would last, he would take it.
He didn’t have it in him to do that again.
It felt wrong on so many levels to know that, to feel it deep in her bones.
Straining to hear the murmuring rise and fall of his voice as she went through the motions of washing her face and brushing her teeth, Quinn could feel his agitation. The frustrated pacing as he spoke to the doctor resonated through her. Shivering at the strange sensation, she tried to ignore the fleeting flash of hunger that bloomed through her chest.
Glancing through the opened door, she saw him standing there. Silent and preternaturally still, he stared. The way her body moved, the sway of her hips, he drank it in with wide eyes as he listened to whatever the doctor was saying to him.
Grunting in response to something the doctor said, he eased forward a predatory step, gaze sweeping over her as the bond hummed and writhed. Whole and present in the moment, Quinn gnawed at her lip as she watched him moving ever closer.
Phone tossed aside as he made a distracted goodbye, Tobias came up beside her. A careful distance kept between them, the space felt charged, ready to implode or disintegrate with a thought.
They stood side by side, finishing their morning rituals without a single word spoken. Catching one another looking, quick to look away, neither of them knew what to do next.
“It’s almost lunch,” Tobias said as Quinn walked towards the closet to gather clothes. He hesitated at the door, weight shifting on the balls of his feet. A long moment passed before he followed, easing in behind her until he could move to stand opposite the long line of drawers down the middle. “Will you try to eat?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“All I ask is that you try.”
“What did the doctor say?” Quinn trailed her fingers over a row of shirts, fixing her gaze on the muted colors that wanted to blur for no reason other than he was speaking to her. As if she was a real human being, he was conversing, requesting.
“He said that yes, it’s a known side effect, but that if it continues he wants you to go in for bloodwork. He suggested you increase your iron intake, try to get some sun if we wait to see your usual doctor. It might help with the fatigue in the meantime.”
Rolling her lips out, she made a quiet popping noise as she tugged a pale blue shirt free. Tucking it into the crook of her arm along with a simple skirt, Quinn turned to go back to the bedroom. She’d dress first and fix the nest, then see if the kids were ready to eat. If nothing else, she could help Meghan with them. The poor woman had been stuck with them by herself all morning, she probably could use a break.
“You’ll need these.” Standing before her, the oddity of casual slacks and a soft knit shirt draped over his arm, Tobias crouched to set the soft-soled shoes beside her bare feet.
Pale brows knitting, she eyed the footwear with mistrust. If he expected her to eat, there was no way she would be able to go outside and play with the kids after. She might feel better, but she knew that could change with a single bite.
“Just… Please.”
