~Zaire~

His head was killing! He had avoided partaking in fresh blood for so long, and since he drained himself a bit for her, he came down too suddenly from the high. He wasn't fucked up anymore, but damn, he was hungover. Stepping through the seam and crossing the Veil only made his nausea worse. They were a world apart, now, and it was almost enough to make him vomit on the sidewalk. Why the hell did he tell her that he would let her go away from him? It would be the worst kind of torture he could imagine. 

Zaire didn't even bother with a glamour as he entered The Den. He felt like absolute shit, and he was sure that Talon wouldn't care this one time. He swept past Lola and a few patrons and continued down the hallway, with a sledgehammer pounding against the inside of his skull. The patrons did nothing to conceal their shock. Even in this shoddy state, his power had rattled them. Perhaps, he should have at least shrouded himself, so he would have been invisible to the Fae, too, but oh-fucking-well. Surely, half the Dark Realm already knew that he had claimed his full power by now. It was only a matter of time before he could go nowhere without evoking their awe. Wonderful.

Before he even knocked on Talon's door, Talon flung it open with a flourish. His elated grin died when he tasted Zaire's emotions. He ushered Zaire in and closed the door behind him. Talon didn't even have a chance to question him. Zaire dropped onto Talon's seat behind his new desk, and spilled everything to him - how the sentries had learned to vault their own emotions from others, how he suspected that the Queen had been the mastermind of the blood rite ultimatum, how his mate had tried to kill herself before he could get to her, how he had nearly killed her after the chase, how he had given her some of his blood to help her recover, how he had apologized, how he had slipped up and revealed himself as the man she had already met, and finally, how he had run out on her to talk to his friend, and get his advice. 

Of course, Talon focused on the most ridiculously uncharacteristic part of it all, "You told her that you were sorry?" His eyebrows were raised nearly to his hairline. 

Zaire groaned and glared at Talon, folding his arms over his chest. "Fuck you."

Talon laughed and shook his head at him, "My apologies, I just never thought I would see the day. You should know that you could never kill her, as I am sure that you already figured out that the Mark will not allow it."

"That's not the point, I shouldn't have come close enough for the Mark to stop it," Zaire ground out, casting his glare down to the desk. "She . . . I . . . "

Talon sobered at the taste of Zaire's remorse, and sighed. "I tried to tell you that abstaining was not wise, it was not just because I - "

"Is it really the time for I-told-you-so's?!" Zaire snapped, glowering up at Talon again. "I need your fucking help!"

"Whatever it is that you need, I will do my best to provide," Talon shrugged casually, as if he were lending him a few bucks. 

Zaire wished at that moment that he could vault his own emotions like a damn sentry, so Talon couldn't taste the myriad of shameful feelings roiling through him. 

"I told her that," Zaire cut himself off with a growl of frustration, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes, as the stabbing ache in his head throbbed even harder. "I told her that I would let her leave me. I need you to make sure that she is guarded at all times."

"Are you out of your mind!?" Talon scoffed, slamming his hands down on the desk. 

His reaction was not  what Zaire had expected at all. 

"You cannot let her roam the city, don't you realize that your full power makes her a target? Any Fae worth his salt would love to be the one to say that they took you both down, by eliminating her. Only you have the power to protect her, no one would dare try to harm her with you by her side, but if you leave her to the wolves, she is as good as dead, and so are you."

"I realize that, damnit! I will shadow her, but I can't keep her as my prisoner for all of eternity!" Zaire yelled, his frustration mounting. 

"Of course you can! What is wrong with you?" Talon literally rolled his eyes like Zaire was a petulant child. "A little resentment will not kill you, but giving her the freedom of a loose leash will!"

"I don't want her resentment!" Zaire argued, sounding every bit like the petulant child that Talon was treating him as. "I want her to trust me, I want her to - " Zaire's eyes widened and his throat closed up at the thought that he had almost vocalized. He shot up to his feet and started pacing back and forth like a caged animal. 

"You are being unreasonable," Talon's annoyance was evident. "Go to her, tell her that she cannot return to the mortal world. Tell her that it is not safe for her here anymore. She will understand, eventually."

"You refuse to help safeguard her return?" Zaire barked, narrowing his eyes at Talon, an edge of threat to his voice. 

Talon stiffened and showed his palms. "I do not think it would be wise, but if you absolutely must bring her back, I will spare no expense to keep her protected. You know I could not live with myself if the worst possible outcome came to be." Talon's trepidation was tantamount to Zaire's own apprehension. 

Fuck, he was a fool for her. 

"I must ask you to think more about this, though." Talon grunted, clasping his hands in front of him. "She would want to return to her waitress position, I am sure of it. Do you really want to dangle her in front of my patrons? It was hard enough to protect her, before all of this. I would need half my crewmen to focus solely on her, and now that she has the Sight, she will see The Den for what it really is."

Zaire felt like he was going to be sick. He hadn't thought about that for a moment. With the Sight, she would see through all the glamours, and it would break her to know that she had been surrounded by the creatures of her nightmares. 

"I will give her all the money she could need, she will not need to work." Even as Zaire came up with the idea, it sounded like a question. 

Talon lifted an eyebrow at him coolly, "Forgive me for saying this, but you do not know her as well as I do. She will not just stay in her home like a good little pet. She prides herself on her work ethic, and I am sure that she misses some of the mortals that she worked with. Hans, Magdalena, and Penny have all asked about her every day of her absence. I instructed Lola to assure them that she caught a virus." Talon sighed raggedly. "Perhaps, the Sight will work in our favor, and she will be too afraid to resume serving the patrons once she sees them for what they are."

Zaire's shoulders sank, and as much as he hated the fact that she might crave her independence, he did feel the need to grant her the illusion of it. The idea of her being attached to her mortal co-workers grated on his nerves, though. It seemed as if he still had some remnants of selfishness. He wasn't comfortable with his mate wanting anyone else's care or attention. He wanted to be the only one that she desired those things from. 

"It pains me to admit that you're right," Zaire hissed quietly. "I haven't thought this through."

"Give it some time." Talon suggested, with a wave of his hand. "You should know that the matebond works both ways. Even now, I am sure that she is just as ill as you are, waiting for you to come back. And I think that it goes without saying, that you had better hurry back to her, before she wanders off to look for you."

Zaire cursed vehemently and barreled out of Talon's office. He couldn't even muster up any anger at Talon for being so mature about all this, for treating him like an insolent teenager. He was  being an idiot, and he couldn't even blame Talon for getting a kick out of his stupidity. Zaire had never felt so young, so inexperienced, and so naive. His mate had reduced him to a scared, groveling boy in the blink of an eye, and the bat of a doll-like eyelash. What good was newfound power the likes of which no one had ever seen, if his mate held all the cards in her dainty, mortal hands? 

Fuck, this can't be happening. I'm her puppet, and she doesn't even realize it. 

.   .   .

When he stepped out of the seam in his living room, he replaced the shroud again, hoping that she hadn't seen it while he was gone. He wasn't even sure if a shroud would obscure the seam from her view, or if it was even possible for her to use the seam, given that she was half of him, but he hadn't wanted to take the risk. If a shroud could cloak the seam from other Fae, surely her Sight wouldn't be enough for her to be able to see it. If she could step through it because of the matebond, he didn't want to find out the hard way. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt her presence in his home. She hadn't wandered into the Outskirts to look for him, and she hadn't found the shrouded seam, even though he could tell that she had snooped around his living room. One of his parchments had moved a few inches, something he wouldn't have noticed if the writing desk hadn't been abandoned for years upon years. He stifled some mild embarrassment over her looking at that  specific parchment. He hoped that his hastily-written scrawl was too messy for her to have gleaned what he wrote on it. He would remind himself to burn it later. 

For now, he needed to bask in her proximity, and soothe the ache inside of him. First, though, he forced himself to place a few fresh logs in the fireplace, and get the fire going again. The temperature had dropped significantly in the absence of it, and he would hate for his little doll to get cold. And of course, she was shivering in her sleep, and his heart twisted painfully. There were streaks of dried tears on her cheeks, and he didn't think that he had room to feel like an even bigger piece of shit for disappearing on her, but that's all it took. He carefully climbed into the bed behind her, and pulled her close to him. He instantly wished that he had removed his clothes before he did, so that his body heat could warm her faster, but after a few minutes, she stopped shivering anyway, and she rustled in his arms to snuggle up closer to him. 

Fuck, it felt so good in all the wrong ways. He knew that she was asleep, and that she had no idea that she was nestling up to him, but it was more than gratifying to pretend that she knew exactly what she was doing. That she craved his body close to hers, as much as he did. He had to resist the urge to slide his hands under that flimsy shirt, caress her soft breasts, trace the sensual curve of her hip, and the overwhelming impulse to kiss her awake, and hear those delicious moans on her lips as he claimed her again. 

Ugh.  Zaire didn't even need  a chase to get him excited, he was rock-hard at the idea of just taking her right there in his bed, without so much as a light jog to incite him. He stifled a groan, and pressed himself harder against her backside, wishing it could ease the ache, but of course, it only turned him on even more. A small, sleepy sigh came from her and her hips wriggled slightly, grinding against his need instinctively. 

"Mmh,"  Zaire growled into the silky tresses of her hair, "You'll be the death of me."

And yet, he couldn't imagine a better way to die.