Page 21 of Caelum

I belonged here.

Even if I was replacing one cell with another, I could deal with that for the freedom I’d have in the interim.

I squeezed his fingers. “I didn’t know what a plane was. Had never been in a car. Those TVs are new to me, and I’m not even sure what a phone is.” I released a shaky breath. “How am I going to live in this new world?”

I had no idea why I was telling him this. Had no idea why I was sharing my weaknesses with a boy I’d only just met, one who looked like he belonged in a really good dream rather than existing for real. There were two more in here, two other dream boys whom I didn’t know, but I had no one to trust, no one to share this with and they were here, and perhaps they’d be my friends if I just asked them to be?

Friends weren’t something I’d ever allowed myself before. But these boys were like me. They’d endured the same as I had, and Stefan looked at me in a way that made me feel safe.

I had never felt the luxury of that before, and if it made my tongue loosen up, then I wasn’t about to hold it back. Surely, I was allowed some break in my control, some small freedom?

“You take it day by day,” Stefan told me, his hands tight on mine. I could feel some calluses on his palm, and they rubbed against my skin in a delicious way. “We’ll help you. Won’t we, guys?”

I looked at the others and saw from their frowns that his words troubled them, but they nodded. I wasn’t sure why I did it. Whether it was me or the soul who was in charge, but I freed one hand from Stefan’s and held it out to them. Eren shot Nestor a look, one that spoke of their shared unease, butthey stepped closer. Nestor took a seat beside me on the chair and cautiously accepted my hand.

As our fingers entwined, something settled deep inside me. Again, that feeling of safety swarmed me, and then Eren squatted down next to Stefan, breaking the thought process but making me feel better with his proximity as he rested his palm on the edge of my knee.

Surrounded by them, I released a shaky breath. “Will you tell me what we are?”

Stefan’s shoulders drooped slightly, Eren’s too as they both sat back on their butts. With their knees raised in front of them, they looked so large, so muscular that I kept on staring at parts that were definitely inappropriate to look at. If I’d been caught looking at a boy’s legs back home, I’d have been whipped.

The thought made my throat tighten up, but equally, inside, I let loose a joyous cry.

I was free.

When no one spoke, I bit my lip and shot them pleading looks. I didn’t mean to manipulate them, but waiting until tomorrow for Nicholas to share this information with me would be pure torture.

Caving first, Nestor cleared his throat and, squeezing my fingers, said, “There are seven of them. It’s difficult to say why one becomes dominant and another doesn’t.” He shrugged. “No one has ever really figured it out before, mostly because it doesn’t matter. We are what we are, and we embrace that.”

“I can handle that.” I shot him a small smile. “I’ve never allowed myself to just be, so that will be a luxury.”

His brow puckered and his fingers tightened to the point of pain around mine, but he simply stated, “Girls are different than boys. We usually know what we are when we hit eighteen. There might be some discrepancy that has us unsure, but mostly we know.”

“Why don’t girls?”

He shrugged. “Why is the sky blue?”

I gnawed on my bottom lip. “Okay. I get that. It’s unfair, but most things are, I think.”

The three of them snorted at that, and I was rather pleased that I’d amused them, even if it was only in a small way.

“The unfairness gets worse. Boys come here when they’re fourteen. Girls at thirteen. You usually need more training than we do.”

“Why?”

“You’re hotheads. Boys tend to be more controlled. Have things under a tighter wrap.”

I frowned at that. “Is a hothead someone with a temper?”

“Yes.” Eren grimaced. “Mostly, it’s someone who can’t control themselves. Who is weak-willed in some way.”

Well, that didn’t describe me, but then I was a product of my environment. If I’d been weak-willed, I wouldn’t have survived until my seventeenth year on the compound.

Survival forged us, made us weak or strong. In my instance, I wasn’t weak. I knew that like I knew my name was Eve.

“Are women likeusborn hot-headed?” I asked with a frown.

“Usually,” Nestor confirmed. “The books say that girl babies are fussier than boys.”

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