I closed my eyes against the sudden feeling of pain over the idea of killing demons. And then it hit me. Even so much as a few hours ago, I was in a tight ball freaking out over the idea that there were demons on Earth, and I was pretty sure that a couple of hours of sleep was not the reason why I was now so against the idea of just killing them all and calling it a day.
So, what changed? Why was I refusing to do what Viktor and Greyson want me to do? What I had decided was the right thing to do? What my monster was begging me to do?
Have I already been tainted? Was that my problem?
For the first time, I wish that I was able to see my own thread of life. Maybe that way I could tell if I had been tainted or not.
And if I had been, was I really the right person to determine who should live and who should die?
My head started to spin with all of the unanswered questions and I could feel the beginnings of a massive migraine. Shaking my head as if that would help, I made my way back to my room using the walls as support. Falling into bed I pulled the covers up and over me, closed my eyes, and fell back asleep.
----
I buried my face in his chest, inhaling the smell that was unique to him. He smelt like campfires, trees, and happiness. I was trying desperately hard to not cry, I didn't want him to see me like that, but as soon as I felt his hand on the back of my head drawing me closer to him, I lost that fight.
The first few tears came out slowly, and I buried my face even more into his chest as if that movement would stop my heartbreak. It didn't. All it caused me to do was cry harder as I heard his gentle whispering in my ear and his giant hand stroked me like a kitten from the top of my head all the way down to the small of my back. Up and down, up and down. His slow, steady movements never changed.
It took an embarrassingly long time to calm down, but that man under me never once protested even though I was sure I was getting heavy.
"Feeling better, Butterfly?" he asked, his low voice rumbling under my ear. I refused to move, scared that if I said yes he would make me move and I wasn't willing to.
He chuckled as if he could hear my thoughts. "It's okay, you don't have to move until you are good and ready to. But do you want to tell me what happened?"
"I am the worst Gypsy in the world!" I exclaimed, looking up at the man. "Why can't I be like everyone else? Mother is so mad at me for messing up the potion. I just can't help it! I am trying!" I could feel the tears start to gather again in my eyes as he slowly brought his hand up to my face. His palmed rested gently as he used his thumb to wipe the tears that had managed to escape.
"You are not the worst Gypsy in the world," he assured me as his thumb continued to rub back and forth on my face. I scoffed at his words. "Yeah, well, tell that to Mother," I grumbled wanting to burrow into his chest again so I could smell his scent.
He paused his actions for only a second. "I will," he promised me, causing me to completely freak out. "You can't!" I protested. "You'll get into trouble. I'll just change! Maybe she is right, maybe I am not trying hard enough. Maybe if I try harder I will be better and be everything that she wants me to be." Panicked at the thought that he would go talk to Mother about this, I grabbed both of his arms and refused to let go.
"Listen to me, Butterfly," he said, tenderly tilting my head up so I could stare into his beautiful grey eyes. "You are you, and that is more than enough." I tried to duck my head again, but he refused to let me go. "Not all Gypsies are going to fall in line with what they are supposed to be. Look at me," he continued, his eyes searching mine.
I scoffed again, the very idea that Nicholas was not perfect in every way, shape, or form was completely ridiculous. "You are the best at everything you do," I said, completely contradicting him.
"Not when it comes to Father's side of the family," he assured me as he went back to stroking my hair. I froze, I didn't know anything about Father's side. No one would really say much about it, only that he was a traveler that Mother fell in love with.
"What is Father's side of the family? Is he from a different House?" Was that why no one talked about him? Could he be from another House that no one knew about? I mean, I knew that he wasn't a Gypsy, but he could be part of the Van Helsings or even one of the Vselavs.
"Something like that," he said, not telling me exactly what he and Father were. All that I knew was that Nicholas took after him in all things while us girls were more like Mother. Well, Elena was, I didn't really have anywhere that could fit into.
"I don't believe you, you are the best!" I said, refusing to take any other answer. Nicholas was the greatest person alive and nothing anyone said, even him, would change my mind on that.
"Listen, Butterfly, just because you are born to a certain House doesn't make that your entire fate. You can be a Gypsy and not good at curses or potions, just like a hunter might not be good at hunting, or an Angel might not be always kind."
That idea completely floored me for a moment. "There are angels?" I asked, completely dumbfounded.
"Oh, Princess, there is so much more to this world than you could ever know."