Chapter 118

Dominic

Mira was gone, and she didn’t leave a note.

I came home feeling calmer, with new conspiracies floating around my head. But I was ready to talk to her, to hear her, to put aside my bruised pride and trust the woman I loved.

It wasn’t too surprising to see that she hadn’t waited to do the same, though I was still disappointed. She had made a mistake, but I had overreacted. And didn’t my behavior basically drive Mira into Lucian’s waiting arms?

I thought again about finding him and punching him, but the throbbing in my cheek humbled me back to homeostasis.

Mira’s touch was everywhere. Her habits were so familiar to me that I could tell that she had been trying to clean up, to reorganize, to sift through the detritus of the night before. It was something we should have done together, as a team.

But I had lost my temper and walked out on her.

As the clock ticked the time away, I knew she wouldn’t come back that night. I forced myself to take a painful shower and put a clean bandage on my face. The wound looked angry, but I saw no discoloration and the swelling had gone down. The last thing I needed was an infection in my face.

Sleep was elusive.

I lay on my back staring at the ceiling for a long time. As heavy as they were, it was hard to keep my eyes closed. Visions of my possession kept playing like a flip projected on my eyelids. Fed up, I went to the bathroom and found the painkillers Jacqueline had given me.

I had been hoping to avoid them, but instead I took two with a glass of water. I crashed back into the bed, not caring if I was getting blood on the sheets.

Sleep finally hit me like an anvil dropped on my head. But this was not the quiet void of the night before. My subconscious was working over time even as my body found rest.

I was back in the chair, in the medical facility. But it wasn’t a memory, I wasn’t young and afraid and wondering when my parents would come and get me.

This was happening now.

Once I settled into the dream, I tried to take control of it. I told myself not to struggle, that whatever lesson I was to learn was important. But no matter how much I tried to stay calm, the atmosphere in that sterile examination room still made my heart beat hard in my chest.

“Hello?”

It was all I could think of to call out to the room, maybe I could speed up the action if I got someone’s attention. It worked.

Two people in white coats and medical masks approached, one on either side. They seemed curious, like I was another species under their observation.

“He’s awake,” one said to the other, the voice oddly familiar. “We can start.”

Small hands reached out and started to undo the buttons on my shirt, leaving my torso bare under the glaring lights.

“His pulse is strong, that will help.”

The other was taller with darker hair. The pointed widow's peak on her forehead gave her away.

It was Celeste.

As if she heard my thoughts, she removed her mask and smiled at me. It was the smile given to a child when they are about to get a shot in the arm.

“Nothing to worry about, dear,” Celeste said, running a hand over my forehand and into my hair. “This won’t take long.”

“Ready?” Her colleague asked.

“Ready, Doctor.”

The other woman, as I could tell now by her voice, came back over to me with a scalpel in her hand. My fear increased, and I could see my chest moving up and down like my heart was trying to escape.

I looked into her eyes, and a new wave of anxiety washed over me. The eyes were golden, glittering in the light of the halogen lamps.

It was Mira.

“My Mate, what’s going on?”

My voice was hoarse, far away, and she tilted her head in curiosity at my question.

“We’re only doing what’s necessary, what you need.”

“No, please, no—“

But her hands were already coming down, one to stabilize and the other placing the tip of the scalpel just above my sternum. Celeste appeared with gauze, ready to clean up whatever mess the doctor would make out of it.

“Just relax,” Mira said as she pressed the knife into my flesh.

I didn’t know I could feel pain in my dream, but I learned how much I could in that moment. Or maybe it was just the face that I had to watch as my skin and flesh was peeled away. For only two people. they seemed to have extra hands to complete all their tasks.

A heavy metal saw cracked open my ribs, opening the cage to release my soul from captivity. But they weren’t here to take my soul. They came for my heart.

Mira reached her bare hand into my chest, gripping around the muscle that kept me alive. Her hand was soft, warm, almost comforting. But when the soft tissue was cut away, I screamed.

The heart kept beating as she ripped it from my chest, my vision full of stars and fireworks. How was I even still alive? What would it take to wake me from this nightmare?

Mira handed the heart to Celeste, who wasted no time in ripping it entirely in two.

The door across the room burst open, flooding the room in silver light. Mira and Celeste panicked, trying to hide what they were doing.

A woman came forward, with only a gesture shoving Mira against the wall and pulling Celeste closer to her. The stranger took the pieces of my heart, and then Celeste collapsed onto the ground like a lifeless rag doll.

My savior came forward, pressing my heart back together. She then carefully put it back into my chest, and with only her hands she closed up the cavity.

Only as she was walking away did she turn enough for me to see her face.

It was my mother.

—

I overslept, and was in a foul mood when I made it to my office.

There was a note from Celeste on the door, reminding me to call her. I had been ignoring her calls and messages, but decided I could do so for a while longer. I spent most of the day looking through my mothers files, and researching anything I could find about dreams and possessions.

It was like the answer to my life’s mystery was right in front of me. I just had to name it.

Time slipped away until I noticed the sun dipping behind the trees. My eyes were dry and I had a sour taste in my mouth when I finally closed up my books and computer for the day and made my way home.

Mira was still not there, and I hadn’t heard anything. I wanted to be able to give her space, but the worry was setting back in.

I called Wyatt, who picked up quickly.

“Anything I can do for you, sir?”

“Yes, Wyatt, once again I seem to have misplaced my wife,” the attempted levity sounded foreign in my voice. “She talks to you more than me— do you think she’ll spend the night at the hospital again?”

There was silence on the other end, and my heart caught in my throat.

“What is it, Wyatt?”

“Sir, I thought you knew,” he said slowly, confused, “we took her to them last night.”

“Took her where?”

“Yes, sir,” continued. “Mira is with the traveling medical team.”