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While cooking up some bean stew, Cooper rolled out the sleeping bags, getting AB comfy.
“Foodfoodfoodfood!” Sprig danced around the fire like he was part of some ancient ritual, his arms waving in the air, his cape dragging across the ground. “Does this have honey in it?”
“Oh, sorry, it’s made with bananas.” I shrugged one shoulder.
“What?” His arms sunk down, his eyes going wide.
“Yep, sorry. This bean stew is made purely of bananas and banana chips.”
“Wha-wha-what?” Sprig’s face crumbled.
“Croy-gen…” AB sighed heavily, gripping the blanket around her shoulders as if she was freezing.
It was cool, but not cold.
Her body was no longer able to keep her warm; it was too busy trying to fight off the cancer spreading through her.
I gulped down another pull of liquor.
“Why would they put bananas in it? Why? I knew this was the pits of hell. My final meal is going to kill me. Death by a yellow dick.” Sprig wailed from the other side of the fire. “Why? Why me?”
“Sprig.” AB yanked out a honey packet. “To tide you over.”
His eyes went wide, his tiny body starting to shake.
“Oh fuck,” I muttered, knowing the signs of what was coming.
“Ahhhhhh!” He started going in circles, his excitement exploding out of him. “Honeyhoneyhoneyhoneyhoneyhoney!” He zoomed around the fire for Annabeth, his fingers already grabbing for the packet. “Givemegivemegivemegiveme… honeyhoneyhoney!” He danced around her like a puppy waiting for treats. “Ahhhh! Honey!” Leaping for it, he passed out midair, his fingers just clasping onto the plastic before he went headfirst onto her sleeping bag.
I chuckled at how his body curled around the honey packet like a lover, snores already sounding from him.
“He is entertaining.” I snorted, swallowing back more whiskey. “I’ll give him that.”
“And you egg it on.” Annabeth shook her head with a smile.
“He deserves it.”
“You two really do act like siblings.” She winked at me.
“Bite your tongue.” I wrinkled my nose. “That thing is a circus act at best.”
She started to laugh, but it switched quickly to a hacking violent cough, her lungs gasping and straining as she wheezed and grappled for air in between. Her eyes pooled with tears, her body almost jackknifing with each cough.
Cooper darted down to her, rubbing her back, whispering to her, soothing her muscles, like this was something he was used to doing. While I sat there like stone. Helpless. Useless. Terrified. Not knowing what to do, how to act, pretending it was nothing big because I wasn’t supposed to know, but very aware I did.
In that moment, I really realized I was losing Annabeth. Sooner than any of us wanted, she would no longer be here. Another vacancy. Another hole in our hearts. A chasm nothing could ever fill.
And Cooper would probably go with her.
Another reason I never wanted a mate. To feel so much for someone that you no longer wanted to exist because they weren’t there. No, thank you. I was far too selfish and in love with myself to do that.
The death of one’s mate was basically a slow death for the other. They would keep living, but as such an empty shell of themselves, most didn’t see the point. All species of fae were slightly different in how extreme their reaction to a mate’s death was. To Dark Dwellers, their mate was life, so it pretty much equaled the end for them too. Either they’d wither away into a suit of bones, or they joined their mate.
There was no doubt what Cooper would choose.
So in AB’s death, we would lose two people.
The moment he calmed her, laying her back on the rollout to rest, I rose, needing to get away and take a moment.
