Eat, drink, and be merry until the lights go out.
At midnight the gypsies shot various fireworks into the air. Everyone was mesmerized by the wonderful light show in the sky. I could feel fingers slipping between my fingers. I didn't pull away for the moment. That's enough, I told myself. It just felt so good to be touched by her...
Jo gently pulled me along behind her, a little further away from the others, until we came to a small path between two buildings.
"What's the ma..."
When she turned back to me, words stuck on my lips. Her eyes glistened like two fireflies in love; they reflected the colorful light of the fireworks. In that moment, there was so much care and love in her eyes that it made me speechless. She squeezed my hand a little.
"Did I tell you why I was home-schooled?"
I shook my head.
"I was an outcast," she admitted "Somehow, I couldn't find my place among the other kids. I was teased a lot about it."
I could feel my eyes widening a little. An outsider? The same Jo I knew? It seemed almost unbelievable. I didn't understand exactly why she said that, but I knew her words had great meaning.
"It was hard. My parents worked a lot and were never home," she mused, "I was alone so many times... I often wondered if someone would miss me if I disappeared..."
I pressed my lips into a sharp line. I thought I loved her. I thought I knew her. That was the moment, I realized that I did not know anything about her. How could I have said that I loved her so confidently before? I did not even know the deepest depths of her heart...
"I'm so glad," she smiled, "that I held on back then."
She stroked the back of my hand.
"I'm grateful. I'm grateful to you for caring about me."
I wanted to say something to her, but I had no idea what to say.
"That's why it's okay, Shay."
What? What's okay?
"Reject me," she asked.
My eyes widened. "What?"
"I'm ready."
Ready for what?
She smiled and that smile seemed both mournful and incredibly kind.
"I love you."
My heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to jump out of my chest.
I could feel her breath on my neck. Jo looked up at me with sparkling eyes. She tiptoed to reach me. Her lips slowly moved closer to mine. Something in my chest tightened and expanded where my heart was. I both wanted, craved that kiss, and hated myself for it.
I pulled away from her so her lips could just touch my cheek. All her love and devotion were compressed into that bitter kiss on my cheek. When she pulled away, she seemed neither hurt nor surprised. She expected rejection, even if her eyes gleamed sadly because of it.
Here in front of me was the girl I loved, and the girl who loved me. I wanted her so badly, to feel her, to love her, to kiss her, to embrace her like nothing else matters. I wanted her so badly, yet I knew that no matter how much I wanted her, it wouldn't end well.
Jo was human. Humans and monsters can't be happy together. This is a love that can never be fulfilled. I knew that if I told Jo my secret and she stayed by my side, she would die. Humans who find out the secret of monsters are executed.
There are no exceptions.
But even if I could hide her from the world, the greatest threat to her is myself—for as much as I long to make her happy, I long to break her. Even though I knew this, I was unable to keep myself completely away from her—causing us both more pain.
Fate is cruel. Why can't I be a mere human who can accept this love? Why can't I be a monster who can rip these feelings from his chest? Why must I rot in this damned, in-between state?
"It's okay, Shay," she whispered.
Her smile remained kind and loving, yet I felt my heart was about to break. Her eyes were glistening with tears, but Jo was much stronger than letting those tears fall freely.
"This is enough for me."
My heart shrunk into a tiny ball deep in my chest.
"Being with you and the others... That's enough for me."
Her fingers slipped from mine and Jo smiled sadly, then returned her gaze to the sky. I watched her face for a moment longer, and then I, too, turned my attention to the fireworks. Fortuna is a fucking bitch.
When the light show ended, bringing the day to a close, we all decided to go our separate ways. Of course, I didn't go home. Luna was waiting for me in her trailer. As before, she knew what I needed. She didn't hesitate for a moment to give it to me, and I threw myself at her like a bitter, starving, savage monster.
(...)
The next morning, I awoke with a pleasant, lingering fatigue in my limbs. I inhaled deeply, the air carrying a delicate scent of lilies. As my eyes fluttered open, the first thing that hit me was that I wasn't in my own bed. Memories of the night slowly came back to me.
I groaned inwardly. What an idiot. A complete jerk.
The door opened and Luna stepped through. She smiled sweetly, but my gaze immediately slid from her face to her neck. The fine, pale skin bore the dark imprint of my fingers and a series of bites.
At least I didn't actually tear through her throat. Still, I have this damn habit of losing control and letting myself go wild. I shuddered as the memory flashed in my mind once more, and the worst part was how conflicted I felt. It was both exciting and horrifying at the same time.
Luna's writhing body, my fingers tight around her throat, the fear in her eyes. Her face flushed from lack of air, her parted lips begging for oxygen that only I could give her. The knowledge that her life depended only on my whim was intoxicating, more exciting than sex itself.
I wasn't nice to her, in fact, I was rather rude. I tore the silk off and threw her on the bed. I kissed her, bit her neck, and caressed her, but there was no tenderness in my touch, yet she sighed encouragingly under my hands. Though she did not protest, I wanted to possess her even more. On the floor lay my own clothes, torn to shreds—I was so impatient that I even tore my favourite shirt to pieces.
When our bodies met, she moaned, and I wanted more of those lewd, almost painful moans. I gasped—it was intoxicating the way her warmth embraced and enveloped me. I didn't care about her desire, I was driven only by my own satisfaction. My hands were tearing and rubbing her skin, I was setting a wild pace, and she was moaning softly. When I sensed that I was close to fulfillment, I nuzzled her neck. I could feel her pulsating artery under my fingers.
I wanted to slit her open and then take every drop of the garnet blood on my tongue. I tightened my grip, enjoying my power over her. I owned her completely, her being belonged to me alone. I held her life in my hands. I wanted to break her. Tear her apart, bite her, pierce her skin with my claws until all I see is red. Watch her eyes darken, her breath freeze on her lips. I wanted to steal the beating of her heart. The sheer fantasy of it pushed me close to my limits.
As fulfillment washed over me, I heard another growl escape from deep in my throat. Her body arched. She didn't even try to push me away or resist when she couldn't breathe anymore—maybe that was her luck, or I would have killed her for sure. I let go of her neck and she caught her breath. I barely realized I had almost strangled her. I didn't care. I got what I wanted.
Then, after a few deep breaths, she pulled me to her and kissed me softly. My body went limp and relaxed a little.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
I felt ashamed that I had lost control so much.
She smiled indulgently. "Don't. I had the best orgasm of my life with you last night."
I grinned awkwardly. I wasn't sure if she was serious or just trying to cheer me up.
"Come on," she said, setting a tray on the table, "you'll see the world in a better light after breakfast."
Some clothes were waiting for me on the edge of the bed, which I grabbed quickly. The fried eggs were delicious, and I didn't realize how hungry I was until I took the first bite. It felt like I hadn't eaten in weeks.
While I was still devouring the food, Luna had finished and was watching me with a neutral expression. She wrapped a lock of my hair around her finger, looking thoughtful. I barely registered her, my focus entirely on the eggs in front of me. Priorities, right?
"Silver suits you better," she said suddenly. "I don't understand why you hide the real you."
I froze, but then forced myself to relax, exhaling slowly. Because, you know, an eighteen-year-old with silver hair would really blend in?
"My eyes..." I said cautiously, hoping she wasn't about to cross a line.
"... were sexy," she finished.
I was definitely high. I was really high. I groaned, the urge to drown myself in my morning tea growing stronger by the second.
"I'll start soon," she said, a hint of disappointment in her voice, subtly nudging me to finish my breakfast.
I quickly polished off my last bites. Luna, as usual, had a mind that wandered off into its own world. She stared absently at her tea as if it held the secrets of the universe. Her gaze seemed to drift so far away, I wondered if she had checked out completely. Then she snapped back to reality, smiling at me.
"Do you think we could do this again sometime?"
I couldn't help but wonder if the poor girl had a thing for pain. What struck me most was how fearless she was. Despite barely surviving the night, she was brave enough to ask for more. Maybe she was crazy. Or maybe she had a death wish.
Her eyes were soft, kind—just as they had been when we first met.
"You haven't fallen in love with me, have you?" I asked, half-joking, half-serious.
"You exposed me."
She laughed, a sweet sound that made me feel absurd for the expression I must've had on my face.
"Dear Shay," she said cheerfully, "Of course I love you, but not in the way you think."
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate.
"Yes, I'd like to be part of your life for as long as I live. What happened yesterday was... incredible. But I don't think I'm the one you're meant to be with, and you aren't the one I was written to be with," she explained with a strange calm. "I don't expect anything from you that you can't give, so don't worry."
I nodded slowly, processing her words. Luna was a strange girl. Without a doubt the strangest I'd ever met.
She brushed a strand of hair from my cheek, her touch soft. "I know how desperate you were yesterday."
"Thank you," I muttered, and she gave me a small, knowing smile.
"Luna," I breathed. "What does love mean?"
Luna was thinking for a moment before answering.
"Love is when you put the other person before yourself. When you feel like you'd do anything to make the other person happy."
"Is it the same for monsters?" I asked.
Luna tilted her head to the side in thought. "Is it?"
"Well, I don't think so," I replied.
I was about to stand up when she spoke again.
"I think it is similar," she stated, "You wanted to eat her. You've been wanting to eat her for a long time, right? But you haven't. I think, fighting your monster every day for the sake of another is also love."
My heart was aching.
"I should let her go," I said quieter than a whisper.
Luna nodded. I pressed my lips into a sharp line. I didn't want to.
I was about to leave, but I was stopped as soon as I stepped out of the caravan.
"Not so fast," I heard, "Are you the one our sweet little Luna is always talking about? Your Majesty?"
I turned my gaze slowly toward the young man. He appeared to be about twenty, his wavy, shoulder-length black hair falling in wild tendrils around his face, most of which were tied back with a scarf acting as a makeshift headband—though it was clearly a struggle to tame them. The first thing that caught my eye was the jewelry dangling from the scarf, accentuating his face.
A bird feather earring dangled from one ear, and an equally striking pin caught the light, glistening against his simple shirt. Despite the modest fabric, it was impossible to ignore the well-defined muscles beneath—he had the look of a gypsy playboy, the kind who probably tried to charm every second girl he crossed paths with. He lounged casually on a wine barrel, one leg propped up, a lute resting on his lap.
"This is Rickey," Luna said, then turned to the other, "Don't give him any trouble, you understand?"
"Me? Trouble?" the gypsy asked in a disbelieving tone but with a sly smile.
Luna gave him a serious look, and the boy turned serious too. They stared at each other for a moment, then came to some unspoken agreement, for the boy sighed and surrendered.
"Okay," he said, "you can leave it to me."
Luna nodded, then waved at me and hurried off towards another caravan.
"Well, Your Majesty, it seems that if you wish to spend the morning here, you will have to settle for the company of my humble self," he announced, bored.
"Who said I was going to spend the morning here?" I raised an eyebrow.
He shrugged. "She wants you to stay for lunch."
"My name is Ricardo," he said, "I'll introduce you to the other gypsies."
Humming in a monotone, he led me to an orange tent-like structure. He pushed the tarpaulin aside and beckoned me inside with a sly half-smile. I felt like wiping that smile off with a brick...
The tent looked huge from the inside and was full of various cages, which were empty. All the animals were gathered around the man sitting quietly reading in the middle of the tent. The Indian man had brown skin and short dark hair. He had a red bandana covering part of his forehead, one end of which brushed his collarbone. In any case, the red spot on his forehead was perfectly visible despite the scarf.
When we stepped inside, most of the animals opened their eyes. A cougar made a growling noise and warned the lutist that it was so far and no further. It glanced at me, but I guess it realized it didn't stand a chance against me. It stopped in front of me, sat down, and looked at me with interest.
"Interesting," the Indian said and now turned his attention to me instead of the pages of the book.
At the sound of his voice, the lion, which had been dozing and against whose back he had been leaning in complete peace of mind, growled softly.
"Well, how the hell can it be that your fucking pet cougar still wants to attack me, but it let him inside?" the lutist questioned the Indian.
"It knows that he's above her in the hierarchy," the Indian shrugged as he stood up.
"In what kind of fucking hierarchy is a fucking cougar above me?" the lustist asked, still grumpy.
The Indian patted his shoulder, then gingerly looked me over. He extended his hand.
"I am Mu, the beastmaster," he introduced himself. "Pleased to meet you."
"Shaytan," I clasped his palm. "Likewise."
He frowned a little. "Shaytan, as in..."
I pulled my lips into a mocking half-smile. "The devil."
"Oh."
After that, the lutist introduced me to all the vendors, who immediately tried to sell me something, but the old woman I'd met before was left out at my request. The lutist laughed and told me that the old woman was not his favourite person either. He also said that he thought she was insane—on this, I profoundly agreed with him.
The dancer girls were quite happy to have me for company, which annoyed the lutist, so he moved me away from them in the middle of the introduction. He then led the way to the acrobats, who were doing their morning yoga exercises but nodded to me anyway.
There were a few others not far away, dazzling early risers and passers-by with their combat exercises. Our final stop was the musicians. By this time I had long since given up trying to remember names, so all I could memorize was a bunch of gypsies in their thirties cleaning their wind instruments, a few tuning their guitars and violins, but I also spotted a lone cimbalom player and a girl with a harp.
The lutist sat down and, I suppose for some boring practice, started on a tune I knew.
"Hey, Lutist," I said.
I was so intent on the song that I didn't notice that he had closed his eyes while he was playing and only opened them again when I asked the question.
"My name is Ricardo," he corrected me.
"Whatever", I said, "How do you know this song?"
He sighed. "I was raised by fae."
I felt my eyes widen in surprise. Then finally I just hummed in response and he continued to play. After a while, he stopped, and it was only then that I realized that I had started humming something involuntarily. He looked at me, confused.
I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm partly fae."
I thought he was surprised because I knew the song, but it seemed I was wrong.
"You have a beautiful voice," he said, and then he started playing again.
He played and played until lunch and sometimes I found myself humming along with him.
Lunch was a lively affair, and I couldn't help but admire how carefree the gypsy community truly was. They embraced every day as a celebration, living with the kind of joy that made each moment feel special. Luna had said it herself: "Every day is special in its own way." It was an incredibly appealing way to see life.
I began to understand why she had been so insistent on me staying longer. Sometimes, when your heart is weighed down with emotion, it's refreshing to be surrounded by such a lively crowd. In those moments, you forget your worries and simply celebrate, feeling free as if the future didn't matter and tomorrow could take care of itself.
When I got home, I found myself face to face with Alex's knowing grin.
"Oh, just shut up," I muttered, irritation seeping into my voice.
"I didn't say a word," he replied innocently, though the smirk on his lips said otherwise.
"Your eyes are quite eloquent," I shot back dryly.
Alex walked into the kitchen with unchanged cheerfulness. I went up to my room, where two very impatient birds were waiting for me on my bed. Hermes pecked my finger in annoyance as I tried to pry the letter off his leg. I frowned. Finally, after a hard struggle, I managed to get the message.
[Dear Shay,
I wish you a Merry Christmas! It's unusually mild here, but I hope you have a white holiday!
Love: Mica]
I quickly scribbled a reply on a card and attached it to Herm's leg. The bird turned his head in annoyance and left.
The second was a raven. I guessed it was Alice's bird. This one was quite well-behaved and didn't try to chew my finger off, although it seemed to be gnawing at the wait. She brought a letter and a small parcel.
[My sweet, dear brother, (Des seemed to have learned from the old days, for he used only two adjectives to address me. It used to make up most of his letters.)
I hope you're having a good Christmas, though I wish I could be there with you! (I didn't really miss you. The annoying gremlin kis was enough to deal with.)Gradofold's thrown me into another high-risk case, and honestly, I'm willing to bet my remaining hand that the old bastard wants me dead! (That's a fact. I'm glad you've finally figured that out.) Things aren't looking great, so it looks like I'll be stuck here for a while. (Thank goodness!) I'd been hoping to spend Christmas with you, but I trust you're not too lonely without me! (Not really—at least not without the headaches.) I'll deal with Grado as soon as I can, and then I'll be back. (...)
Ben's with me. (Shooking.) It's his bird. (Even more so.) He sends his best. (Finally a sensible line in the letter!) Hopefully, we can wrap this up quickly and I can finally get some rest. (Who cares?) You know, the only thing more incredible than our work on missions is, well, what we do in bed! (Oh, god—Ew. He did that on purpose. He definitely did that on purpose!) We make a really good team. (Poor Alice!)
So don't worry, little brother, you'll see your big brother again soon! (Unfortunately, much sooner than I'd like.)
Kisses, (Seriously, please stop.)
Des
PS: There's a little surprise in the package from Ben and me. (This is the real reason for the letter. Finally!)]
I crumpled up the piece of paper in disgust. I then opened the box, which contained a warm black scarf, which must have been Alice's idea. Hidden inside the scarf was a dagger, which I doubted Alice knew about. Of course, the dagger came with a note.
[Merry Christmas again! (Once would have been enough. I got it the first time.) You can never have enough daggers. (Here's one line of my brother's deep philosophies of life.) If you change your mind about Wolfie, don't hesitate to use it. (You wish, motherhugger!)]
I set about scribbling down the answer.
[My dear, retarded brother,
please, do not send me any more letters. I am glad you are in your element, but keep your thoughts to yourself. Or don't think at all. I prefer the latter. I have no intention of ritually sacrificing Alex to the hunter gods. Not now, not ever. Not even if you don't like him. No, don't even think about it. I assure you, I'll put that dagger to good use and stick it up your ass as soon as I see you. Oh, and I almost forgot: Merry Christmas.
Shay
P.S.: Gift attached.]
I took another piece of paper.
[Dear Alice,
I hope it doesn't cause you any lasting psychological damage that you have to spend so much time with my retarded brother. All my appreciation for your ability to endure, and my amazement at the patience with which you have been blessed, grows. Thank you for your gift, I will gladly wear it, I will send my own with your bird. I hope you'll like it and you can use it in the future.
I wish you a Merry Christmas!
Bye,
Shay]
After that, I left the letters and gifts to the bird. I decided it was time to put away all my presents. I threw the dagger into my chest and hid the snow globe in the worn shoebox.
Some people put their treasures on display and brag about it. Others prefer to hide it from the world and keep it for themselves. I belong to the latter group.