Page 45 of Real

“I’m so sorry,” I finally say.

“Why? None of this is your fault.”

“But my existence ruined the succession of skatts—”

Skatt stands and walks around the desk, leaning against it. “Stop. You will not apologize for your existence. It doesn’t matter if you’re made of plastic or wood. You are a magic being gifted to the Illusors from the Lights. You are not a mistake. Do you understand me? The Lights don’t make mistakes.”

I swallow hard. Skatt seems to have a lot of faith in these Lights, but if they’re so powerful, how did I end up with Dorian?

If they’re so powerful, why do their people suffer so much?

Skatt chuckles. “I see you’re skeptical. I don’t blame you. You don’t know the Lights the way I do. When Dorian came back to claim you the following night wearing a cocky grin and saying you legally belonged to him, I knew he would pay a price for what he did. The Lights always have their revenge. Did you know that ever since polar bear shifters started making those horrid trackers for the Illusors, their magic has started to die out? Every generation there are fewer alpha polar bear shifters who can weld magic metal. The same thing happened to the dragon shifters when they started trapping and killing Illusors in the middle ages. The other shifters turned on them, and they barely survived. Don’t get me wrong, the Illusors don’t have easy lives. The Lights have never promised them that. But the Lights did promise them you, and here you are, skatten min. Right at their doorstep. Even if you are twenty years late.”

I want to believe that I’m some magical thing sent by the Lights to the Illusors. It just seems to fantastical.

“What does skatten min mean?” Timothy asks.

“My treasure. It is what we call a skatt in training.”

I’m a skatt in training? Fear churns in my gut. What if I’m just as bad at being a skatt as I was at being Dorian’s mate? Or what if the magic Dorian’s warlock added messed me up? I don’t want to fail them too.

“I don’t know if I can be that. Don’t you have to do stuff for the Illusors? I’m not good at anything,” I say.

Timothy puts his hand on my knee. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. I’m not worth anything to anybody. I can’t be a skatt. I can’t be… anything.” My eyes fill with tears, which is so stupid. Here Skatt is, trying to tell me I belong somewhere and that the Illusors want me, but it can’t be true. I know it can’t.

That’s when I remember something that confirms my fears.

“You said skatts are indestructible in their wooden forms. I’m not. I… don’t heal anymore.” I unbutton my shirt and hold it open for Skatt to see. The impressions from Dorian’s ring and the bullets are still there. The knife is too, barely protruding from my chest.

Skatt’s eyes soften, and he kneels before me. “I am so sorry. I thought it best to wait Dorian out. I knew he had paid twenty-five years of his life for the spell that redirected the power of the Lights. I figured you and I weren’t getting any older, and it would be best not to anger a very rich man, but I never should have left you with him.” Skatt’s human hand shifts to wood, and he presses it to my plastic stomach.

Nothing happens. I’m not sure what I expected. Did I think his touch would somehow make the bullets come out?

“I’m broken,” I say.

He withdraws his hand. “Maybe. But that isn’t the worst thing to be. Broken things can be fixed. And broken people… Well, I don’t know of another kind, do you? We’re all broken in our own way.”

That means Skatt considers himself a person. I don’t know what to think about that. Does that mean I’m a person too? Or that I could be?

“You haven’t asked how to become flesh and blood. I thought you might,” Skatt says.

“If I’m supposed to be a skatt, would it even be possible for me to become flesh and blood? Skatts are wooden. I’m plastic.”

He smiles. “I suppose. But I don’t think it matters. In fact, it might be easier for you. You probably don’t even need a yaron for sex, do you? Dorian wouldn’t have access to them, so he probably planned for that.”

“What is a yaron?”

He chuckles again. “It’s a type of fruit that Illusor sex workers have been using for a long, long time. If you cut a hole in it in a specific way it feels a lot like…Well, I’m sure you can guess what. I can’t have sex in my wooden form without inserting one inside myself. Can you imagine the splinters my mate would get?” He winces.

“You have sex with your mate in your wooden form?” Why would he do that? He can be real for his alpha.

“Of course. We have to use padding, but I quite like sex in my wooden form. I’m indestructible, remember? My mate can fuck me as hard as he likes. And I get sensation in the yaron. It’s kind of strange, but I like it. Magic is weird sometimes, you know?”

Thatisreally strange.

“Your mate… wants that? I mean, sex with you while you’re in your wooden form?” I shouldn’t say that. It’s rude. I’m sure Skatt’s mate has lots of reasons for wanting him. It sounds like he’s a really important guy. It’s just… Skatt is wooden. Doesn’t his mate care?

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