Page 54 of Changeling
I tuck the covers tight around me and close my eyes.
Tomorrow, I’ll ask Sachi where we can get a needle sharp enough for my ears.
Or my nipples.
CHAPTER15
Dominus
The Twig isn’tthe same with Sebastian gone. Though it’s been my home for over a century, it feels like less of one with each passing day. The last two weeks have been a slog of misery.
I try to lose myself in the rhythm of my day-to-day routine. Handle the cleaning, fetch the laundry, dine with Rizpah, open the lobbies, put on a mask of sultry allure that has never felt more fake than it does now, and chat with customers who all begin to blend together.
Go to bed. Wake up. Repeat.
The responsibility keeps me busy, as always, but it does little to satisfy my soul the way it once did. Annais looks at me with pity. Rizpah, not so much, for she knows it’s all my fault.
Do I wish I’d asked him to stay? Or at least to visit?
Yes.
Will wishing change anything?
No.
So I get on with what needs doing and do my best to forget. But when I crawl into my enormous bed, under my luxurious covers, I’m more alone than ever. Within me, the demon rattles his prison bars in protest. We’re starving.
I can’t bring myself to feed from the stray bits of pleasure floating through the cracks in the doors and from behind the curtains of the alcoves like I used to. The ardor of strangers now smells foul in comparison to the sweet memories of Sebastian’s scent. His uninhibited bliss. His natural submission.
Though I know I won’t be able to carry on like this forever, I’m determined to see how long I can go before the demon forces me into a meal I find repulsive. Meanwhile, I’m weakening, but I can’t bring myself to care.
A knock at my suite door startles me from my wallowing. I rally, pull myself together, roll my neck, and holler, “Come in.”
Leonas saunters through the door, glimpses the state of my living room, and visibly recoils.
“Dominus.” He gestures to the mess cluttering the surfaces. Dirty dishes, soiled handkerchiefs, half a dozen books, none of which I could get into. “This isn’t like you.”
He’s right. It’s not. And the mess is bothering me, just not enough to do something about it when I can stare at my ceiling instead. “I know. I’ll get to it soon.”
Leonas hisses and steps closer. He moves a pile of papers from the chaise across from me and sits. “I didn’t realize it was this bad.”
I shrug that off. “Nothing’s bad. I’m behind on my tidying. It’s not significant.”
“It is for you.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he shushes me before I can get a word out.
“Stop pretending you’re fine. I know you’re not. He was different, wasn’t he? Sebastian.”
Hearing his name spoken aloud is one part heavenly and one part torture. When did I become such a delicate waste of space? Incubi don’t pine after their meals; their meals come pining for them. I’m a disgrace to my people.
And I don’t know what to say to Leonas. There’s nothing I can do about it anyway. It’s not like I can follow Sebastian, tell him I’m sorry for letting him go, that I was wrong, that I need him. He’s probably having the time of his life living in a castle, and I’m stuck in Pest because his ancestors cursed my ancestors and—
“Where did you go just now?” asks Leonas, blinking his glowing yellow eyes in my direction.
“Sorry. I’ve been impossibly distracted lately. What do you need?”
“Nothing. I came to check on you. The others have all noticed something’s wrong. Concern is spreading among the den. They’re worried.”
