Page 118 of Shadow & Stars
I wished her spirit a peaceful afterlife with her son and husband. Because, you know, I had to wish her well under this weight of grief on my back.
So much guilt, so many dreams filled with the trauma of what’d gone down. They woke me up in cold sweats, tears often flowing free over seeing my grandma or killing my bestie and my boyfriend.
This would take a while to move past. Baby steps, talking through it with my people.
Again, I was a lucky guy.
After my transplant surgery, I woke up here in my own bed. Thanks to Jaz, the surgery was a breeze. He’d taken one of Xavier’s hearts and put it in my chest, his warlock power slowing my body and the device down to suit his work.
The heart-shaped device melted into black goo an hour later, apparently.
Xavier took a seat on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn, his stunning peepers on the Angelina Jolie movie playing on the TV—Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life. He seemed to be enjoying it.
I took another sip of my tea, beyond thankful to him for his gift. It beat hard and strong, with no demonic side effects yet. And he’d made a full recovery within less than a day.
Go, Xavier!
“I’ll be a little slower from now on,” he’d said. “But nothing much has changed.”
Lucky really wasn’t the word for it.
Jaz disappeared before Queen Piper and an elite medical team arrived at the doctor’s office. He’d placed the call, then left before I could thank him.
Piper had some people out there to find him.
Her Majesty’s help didn’t stop there, even with the grief of losing her mum. She offered us round the clock security the day I left hospital, seeing as I wanted to go home to my flat. People remembered my name after Margarite shared it to shame me. Having that protective wall of muscles and magic in place helped me carry on living here.
But would it be forever? And what came next for work, for all the other life things? I mean, I’d be happy to stay in this bubble with tea, crosswords, and my guys. Unfortunately, life wasn’t as easy-breezy as that.
What a shame.
A lotof things happened over the course of the following weeks. Like Margarite’s funeral, the cooling down of tensions between humans and demons. Not completely, but the entire world remembered what’d gone down, every single one of us sharing collective trauma. It started to steer the course for peace in a more progressive direction. Phillipe helped a lot, spearheading a new campaign for progress. One I actually believed would succeed this time, especially if we wanted to learn from the lessons of what could be.
The demons for peace let it be known they wanted a change from monarchy now. They weren’t sure yet what they wanted, but a strong-willed group quickly rose up to hunt down Tanith, her silver people, and any war mongering demons from shitting on things.
On the seventh week of my recovery, I was back to my normal self. I healed from the transplant surgery much quicker than expected, the demon heart speeding up the healing process.
Awesome. But I still had some distance to go with my mental health. Xavier and Darcy smoothed out the bumps in the road, though.
Queen Piper came to visit the same day I was given the all clear. Darcy fawned over her, a true monarchist at heart.
“Your Majesty brings so much joy into our lives by gracing us with her presence,” he crooned from my lap.
Where was the sick bowl?
After he stopped kissing up to her, which she didn’t really enjoy, she settled down with a cup of coffee on my sofa beside Xavier. She looked so much like her mum.
“I’m pleased you’re doing well,” she said before taking a hearty gulp. “Ah. You make good coffee.”
“Thanks to your medical team and Jaz,” I answered, lifting my cup in a toast.
“To Jaz and my team,” she said.
I sipped my drink. “Any word on Jaz?”
“Nothing yet.”
“He’s a tenacious man,” Darcy said.
