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Evening comes quickly enough, and Wren informs me she doesn’t want to come down yet. I know I should respect her wishes, so I didn’t press the issue, but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to get help fixing this.
“Chandra,” I call to him from across the living room. He is a quiet fellow, turned by Leland in India when I was not with him. Rolando had gone with him on that trip, and when they returned, they encountered Zach. Chandra saved his life and they have been inseparable ever since. Everyone can tell that Zach and Chandra love each other very much. Quiet by nature, neither of them have ever confirmed that they are mates, but with the frequent silences they hold, I would place money they were speaking in each other’s minds. I’ve never heard of same-sex couples forming a mate bond, but I can’t imagine it’s impossible.
He stands before me, a knowing look on his face.
“You’d like my help with your Wren.” It isn’t a question and I am immediately at ease. He’s always had that effect on people. “You’d like me to see if I can help her merge with herself, or at the very least, guide her towards her lost memories, correct?
“If you would, please. I don’t know how else to help her.”
“This is certainly uncharted territory for all of us, my brother. I am delighted to help.” His graciousness knows no bounds—a skilled fighter, deadly with hand-to-hand combat and with his blade. According to what I’ve picked up over the last hundred years, Chandra is proficient with the Khanda, a double-edged sword. He had illegally trained in and mastered Kalari, a martial art banned when he was coming up as a young man. Sparring with him can be terrifying.
I love it.
Still, with the heart of a warrior and a supreme predator’s abilities, he is a tender and gentle man. Friendly to all life, I’ve seen him soothe many wild beasts. Can he soothe my mate’s inner beast? To hear her talk of it, the inner demon might be more accurate.
“Would you mind coming to talk with her? Maybe you’ll have an idea of something that can be done?” Chandra nods at me and follows me back upstairs.
Wren doesn’t seem keen on the idea but is at least willing to try. Outside, Charlee and I sit together, watching them intently. Chandra moves Wren’s body through different stances like a beautiful dance. Helping her to control every part of herself, every muscle. Focusing her mind and teaching her to hold power there. He adjusts her elbows by a fraction, increases the bend to her knee or the distance in her stance.
Every movement must be precise.
Perfect and total control of her body.
Directly confronting her other self hasn’t worked. Wren said she’s tried multiple times but can’t make it fall into place. She is blaming herself for being too scared of the beast within. Maybe this will boost her confidence.
“A change of scenery?” My sister asks.
I hadn’t been paying attention to her. “What’s that?”
Huffing her irritation at me, “What if she just needs a change of scenery? You know, get off this damn mountain and out in the real world.”
“I don’t think th-”
“She has been stuck here for almost two weeks, with just us to look at. No memory, only able to see her family on television. Hell, her damn boyfriend woke up, and all she knows is she’s sad when she thinks about him. She’s forgotten what it’s like even to be human anymore. No wonder she can’t channel empathy and not kill them.”
A harsh laugh chokes from my throat. I don’t think that’s the answer, but I add it to the pile of things to consider.
The next couple of nights are much the same. Wren works with Chandra, now able to take the required stances and have him make minimal adjustments. Watching them move together in fluidity is beautiful. My coven mates seem to cycle through and watch. Rolando one night, Zach another, though he is always near because of Chandra. Even the triplets make an appearance.
So far, no one can offer insight other than what I’ve already considered. I run my hands through my hair, frustrated and feeling useless.
Meditation hasn’t worked.
Apparently, the other part of herself is just too damn stubborn.
Or Wren is.
I am beginning to suspect that she doesn’t truly want this to work. I don’t blame her. Every time she speaks aloud to her other self, it seems as if the conversations shake her. Whatever it is saying to her is not instilling confidence in the merger. I want to look inside her mind, but that would mean revealing the bond, I still refuse to force that on Wren.
I have grown exceedingly fantastic at blocking her thoughts from mine. Usually, when I am distracted, she will filter through, but it seems to be coming second nature to me.
I decide to move back into my room. Being near her, kissing her, and holding her is enough. The sexual frustration is bothersome, but we have developed ways that got us around that while still keeping that boundary I need.
I smirk as I think of it. I want to spend days losing myself in her body. I hope one day soon to do just that.
Helping Wren merge with her other self has been one massive failure.
The stress of the situation makes me feel older. If I could age, I would have acquired more wrinkles and gray hairs over the last few nights than ever before. A sing-song voice beside me makes me groan.
