It was like swimming in a sea of raspberry jelly. Naked swimming, that is. The current dragged and caught on the smallest patches of skin in irregular patterns that felt more sticky than sensual.

Naked, it should feel like the caress of a lover.

I'd never been swimming naked.

That, and I was starved, but raspberry jelly? Jelly shouldn't be that tart, and I was drowning in the stuff.

One second this was a calming thing, and in the next the surrealism of what I was doing jerked me awake and upright.

That was a bad move. It made my head feel like my brain was leaking out my ears.

And that sensation is what brought everything back to the point where I passed out, fighting to stay awake for Nathan's sake. I glanced over to my right and saw him completely zonked out, half sprawled out of a hospital recliner. Those things are miserable, by the way.

Not only was he down, but he was blonde. No Ryder, no danger...for now.

The belly band shifted causing the baby monitor to sound like a scratched record.

I didn't even know I had the contraption on my stomach until that noise.

And still, he slept.

A nurse bustled in, due to my moving around. "Ah, Miss Fields, nice to see you wake up after your ordeal."

Whelp, this night nurse wasn't pack. I'd not been called Fields since graduation. Funny how that feels like ages ago, when it's only been a few short weeks. So, I guess it's time to find out what was said to the humans. "What happened?"

"Gas leak at one of the local cafes. You misplaced too much oxygen and passed out. Luckily it was for a short time, and the baby's heartbeat has been steady. So as soon as I contact the night doctor you'll probably be able to get out of all that stuff."

"I need to pee."

"You have a catheter in, so just go, dear—you've been out at least a day. Would you like some water?"

God, would I?! "Yes ma'am."

Not long after that, I found myself dozing off again. Had a couple more rounds of being woken up, to remove things as they went. Still, Nate slept through it all.

He didn't wake until I was free of everything and plopped down in his lap. "Double-shift. I feel rough..."

He didn't even open his eyes for that statement, even half-snored after his little speech.

Why did I find that so cute? I certainly as hell didn't find it adorable when I'm trying to sleep.

"I'm awake. Quit staring at me."

"You just snored."

"I'm tired." He started blinking the sleep from his eyes...with my face damn near on top of his. "Come on, I can't focus with you this close to my face; pull back like 3 inches."

I couldn't help but laugh at him. "How much of it was real?"

"I don't know." Now that he sat us upright, he took his time looking me over, checking for damage that only his worried mind could conjure. We both had our own paranoid tendencies. "What did you see?"

"I had a conversation with my Aunt about a Soleta Duran before she stabbed me with a fork and went all spawn of Satan on me...but I don't have a wound. I don't trust what happened."

"She isn't your aunt, you know..."

I half-smirked at his reassurance. "That's not helping me confirm a damn thing, Nate."

Of course, at this point, he's chuckling at me. "I think you lost reality long before that conversation started, given what Tabitha and Grant reported."

"Oh, I didn't think much of anything was realistic."

"Let me see it."

"How much?"

"All of it."

We sat there, huddled in that miserable chair, with my forehead pressed against his neck. I recounted a story that blended into the everyday tapestry that is my life—mind and mouth, weaving the tale.

~~~

It wasn't until 2 days later that I heard about Aunt Jesse exploding into fragments. That was because people were arguing about what to tell me—not surprising. The pack is starting to catch on to how little of a shit I give about details, but this was completely in the blind.

All my damn mate had to do was mention it after he assured me of what was real. And it was annoying, as I was carrying a jar of vaseline around randomly greasing doorknobs for a prank. I almost made it so I couldn't get into the office, if I hadn't heard the hushed voices inside before I swiped a gob of this shit on the knob. Had to backtrack a couple rooms to find a safe place for the jar before I barged in there, belly greeting the crowd before the rest of me. "What the hell is going on here?"

Everyone in the room—which wasn't many of us: our 2 representatives, Beta, Gamma and mate, all were looking at me, worrying about crossing him, when I was the one crossed.

I have to remember that they can't help this behavior.

I wanted to strangle them.

Nathaniel doesn't collapse in on himself much, but the droop of his shoulders looked so much like the day I thought he had given up on me.

I hate seeing a broken man.

I'm glad as hell that he doesn't dwell in these moments.

"You were right. We can't wait until your birthday—which was ideal. The full moon is supposed to be our Goddess' source of power, and we would have had mass to spare."

So many things I could be fighting about—and one day I will. For example, I had no clue they were ready, save for some superstitious day. They burned through everything with the abduction, and had to gorge. Had they done enough of that to make up for what they lost? Unfortunately, there were more important matters to deal with. "When?"

"Tonight."

"What, the whole pack?"

"No. That will still come the day before your birthday—if we can settle things by then. If not, as soon as we get everything in order, after that." From there, Nathaniel broke down all that must be done before we could leave.

That and how many people we would bring with us.

~~~

The drive had me dozing in the seat next to my mate. His hand was resting on my thigh—neither caressing it nor gripping it harshly. We've been together for months now, and I still can't get over how heavy his hands feel. A comforting weight, but still, not a light touch.

Nothing else makes me feel that delicate.

I hated the sense of finality I had at this moment.

I can't ever remember being such a bundle of nerves before. "What will I see, when we get there?"

"I've done a lot of research with Gamma Pearson's directions. Our pack's rituals can be simplified to 3 parts, at least. I open, Stephen sustains, and Amancia closes the ritual."

"Then I'm not needed." I frowned into the fading light, trying to figure out what the heck this had to do with me. "Why have I been the point of attack, then? The 3 of you are the important ones."

"I don't know." His voice was rougher, slightly slurred. Nathan wasn't alone in this moment. I assume both of them were speaking as one. "I am sure that you are the Goddess' pawn, in this, and if there is a part she wants played, you will have to do it. I don't want you there at all."

With that, the world faded, and beings whispered in my ears about what they wanted from me.

If I could say it was just the Goddess, or even her and the Stone Angel, maybe I could have handled it.

They were too numerous to count, all with their hopes and dreams screaming in my head, with no singular goal in mind.

It was brutal.

And I was made for this, to knuckle down and bear under the pressure of so many minds.

A single stray thought flit across it all, through the cacophony: Legion.

A part of my mind caved.

~~~

I was 7 years old, sitting on my real father's knee as he read from an enormous book of tiny squiggles I could barely follow. Its pages were as thin as could be, but strong. His brown hand trailed across the tiny print.

" "What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, don't torture me!" [...] "What is your name?" "Legion," he replied because many demons had gone into him. And they begged Jesus repeatedly not to order them to go into the Abyss."

A slight jump, same hands, and reading...

"They served their idols, which became a snare to them. They sacrificed their sons and their daughters to the demons; they poured out innocent blood..."

And once more...

"What do I imply then? That food offered to idols is anything, or that an idol is anything? No, I imply that what pagans sacrifice they offer to demons and not to God. I do not want you to be participants with demons. You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons. You cannot partake of the table of the Lord and the table of demons. Shall we provoke the Lord to jealousy? Are we stronger than he? "

I could feel the confusion in my younger self, sitting in the lap of this familiar man. "But why, Yai? What is this book?"

"Its the faith of the people that surround us—at least it was. They view all other gods as demons—and there is some truth to that."

And as if I had been taught this question from the cradle, I asked, "What kind of truth?"

I must have repeated this last part out loud because Nate's hand gripped my lower thigh tighter, startling me out of the memory. "I don't understand your question, Rachael."

I shook my head, not like that would clear it. "I don't know, it was an old memory...so, why are we all going if only 3 of you are needed? How many does the ritual usually hold?"

"It's usually done with a Luna present—and if not, a Beta's or Gamma's mate taking part. She takes on the role of the living embodiment of the Goddess, as a vessel for the stone. But I'm not even going to suggest to that thing in there to come and get you. Not after trying to kill you so many times. You will not touch the stone, at all."

I nodded, thinking about what this revealed...it can indwell, this ritual is for housing the goddess in human form. "and how many, again?"

"13 outside the embodiment, depending on mates, who have other statuses, what of the previous generation remains. But the only thing consistent throughout all the rituals is us 3, so I know for certain they must be there..."

With that, I knew what he had wrong. His truth came from deductive reasoning—or what makes me tick best, so I couldn't even blame him for that.

The thing is, just because these 3 had always been used did not mean that all 3 were required.

I was here to remove one of them from the equation. The Goddess knew, the Stone Angel knew—even the demonic shrieks of all the little would-have-been gods knew what I was here for. Yes, that much clicked from the strange texts my birth father once read to me.

They were all trying to tell me which one would benefit them most.

That didn't tell me which one would benefit me or this world best. That was what my father taught me when I was too young to understand a thing. I don't remember enough to know for sure.

It was almost like he desperately didn't want me to forget him—yet he allowed another man to raise me.

Something slammed into the side of the car, causing Ryder to curse as he grappled with maintaining the vehicle. It felt like an eternity, but he gained control and pulled off to the side. He turned to me before stepping out, to tell me, "We go on foot from here."

It was in the middle of nowhere in the fading light. "How far?"

"An hour, if I allowed you to walk....but I'm not. We're shifting, and you will straddle my spine." While his voice was calm for a very angry wolf, he was basically daring me to challenge him.

I'm not stupid. The longer we were out here, the greater the chances are that someone would die. I may have not wanted much to do with the wolf end of him—like riding an animal, but less under my control? No—not not but hell no. I had a strong sense of self-preservation for a reason. But in this case, the safest thing to do was to obey. I'm not about to be one of those girls who get yelled at in movies for doing the dumb thing.

I nodded and we got out of the car—out of several vehicles. The others had pulled over, most of them already out and shifted. Stephen's wolfy face was coated in blood, in this twilight world. He had taken out whatever hit us.

Of course, my mate used my distracted observations at that moment to shift. I didn't have to be disturbed by the sight, but the sound of snapping bones and rending cloth did nothing to quell the memory. I refused to turn until he gave a soft chuff of noise.

He had himself down but alert, waiting for me to climb the mountain of fur that he calls his back. Even prone, his spine came up to my breasts. It was a struggle to climb. I realized, belatedly, that whatever I had seen before wasn't a full-sized shift. This likely was. My man was bigger than a horse, and that wouldn't have fit in the office with me and the cat.

Finally, he stood, resisting the urge to shake. I could feel the tension yearning for it underneath me.

With a bark he reeled and dashed onward, dragging his cohort behind him like tin cans tied to the bumper of a newlywed's car. There was no pretense of subtlety in the lot of them. The things knew we were coming.

And if it wasn't for this baby, I would have ridden low, face buried in his neck, scared of the whipping-past branches of cacti and wild bushes alike. I couldn't see them before they were already on me. A couple of times the barest scrape would touch my skin. There was too little room to travel as we were, but he felt there was no choice in the matter, so endure scrapes or distract him?

Endurance was the only real option.

All I could do was pray he wasn't exaggerating when he said it would only take 5 minutes. I was shaking too hard to keep a firm grip after 30 seconds had passed.