Pet: Revelations - Chapter Twenty-Three (Patreon)

Remus

I crossed the line. The line I swore I wouldn’t cross again. I crossed it. I wish I could feel regret at crossing it, but I don’t. I only feel sated after claiming what has always been mine. Iris’s naked body contours to mine perfectly as she lies on the rug I created. It’s mesmerizing to watch her breathe so deeply. I can’t keep my fingers off of her as I gently stroke her ribs to her waist. We’ve been going for hours, but it felt necessary when she dangled her life so callously in front of me. Or rather, my life.

I smile to myself. That was the moment I lost it. The moment she declared her life as her own. But it isn’t. It’s mine. It’s always been mine. From the moment she challenged me with that grenade in the blight, it was mine. And it always will be. I hold my hand up, feeling the connection between us. The blue beam forms from my palm, snaking to the nape of her neck. I can feel her through this. It helps quiet my mind, I realize. It is not as intimate as the bond, but it will do for now. The beam itself connects to every nerve ending and every muscle as it comes into contact with her skin.

It was an ability that my mother kept locked away inside of me for fear of what I could do with it. It’s how she was able to mangle my memories and intentions. And as much as I want to, I can’t do that to Iris. Not even when she threatens me with her life to get her own way.

It’s one of the things I love about her.

I know that when she wakes, she will be upset with me. But I would rather she be alive and upset than dead because of her own stubbornness. She doesn’t realize how serious it is that she touched that door, and that she touched the field I keep around myself. Even standing near her I could sense her body struggling to keep her alive, and she dared challenge me with her life?

I laugh, lowering my lips to her throat.

Her pulse is strong, and her scent is intoxicating. I missed her this way. She was right about me avoiding her. It’s been difficult as the days have passed. I should have known better than to try and avoid her, however. In the end, she always brings out my base desires.

My hand slides from her waist to her stomach, feeling the scar that my mother left behind, and I am suddenly reminded of her words to me earlier.

“I may not be her biggest fan, but Xion is suffering something…unimaginable. She lost someone very close to her. You must know what that feels like, you felt it for a second, you were going to destroy an entire planet in your grief! Can’t you see that she needs you? They both do”

It’s fascinating watching the change that has occurred in her. Months ago, she would have laughed in glee at the misfortune that has befallen the people responsible for the destruction of her home. But when I reminded her of that, she barely reacted. She has pushed her home and her people from her mind, and now fights for my siblings and Xyrannis as if it is her own.

I laugh, closing my eyes as I pull her closer. Sometimes, I can’t believe I found someone so interesting in the rubble of Earth’s destruction, among the masses of her kind. Blood rushes to my cock as she groans, shifting slightly in front of me. I want nothing more than to enter her again, and never leave.

But I can’t. I don't have the time.

I stand carefully so I don’t jostle her awake, then walk to the couch to grab my cape. As I do, I manifest clothing for myself before making my way back to Iris, covering her naked body as I lift her into my arms to take her back to our room.

I don’t sleep. It has slowly decreased over time, my need for rest. Now that I better understand the flow of energy, sleep is more of a pleasure than a need. The same with eating and drinking. But eating and drinking have never been as pleasurable as falling asleep with Iris laying in my arms. Feeling everything about her—her warmth, her heartbeat, her scent- was calming in ways I didn’t realize I longed for until now.

I quietly close the bedroom door, so as not to wake her. Though I know with the time we spent over the past few hours, she won’t be waking anytime soon. Especially since he touched the door.

As I exit the hall that leads to her room, I can see the garden is still full of life—my life. It glows vibrantly with the proof of my existence, and if not for Iris spending so much time in it, I don’t know that she would have been able to stay conscious after touching the door. I once again made a mistake because of my own arrogance, and it could have cost her life. I need to be more mindful of her existence, and less focused on growing out of mine. She doesn’t see me as who I am now. She still looks for the being my mother created and manipulated.

As I pass over the garden, I recognize a presence. Its trace is faint, and I know instantly it’s Ezra. I move quietly to the edge of the banister that overlooks the garden, locating him near the pond. His feet are dipped in the water, his head tilted to the sky.

I am suddenly reminded of Iris’s words to me earlier tonight—the entire reason she came to me in the first place.

“The way things were,” I murmur to myself.

Before I can stop myself, I am moving to the steps that lead into the garden. I slowly release more of my energy into the roots of each of my steps, until I am standing behind him, and I know he senses me, but he doesn’t turn as he speaks.

“So this is you, huh?” he asks.

I can’t fight the small smile that forms as I respond. “Always the perceptive one,” I say.

Ezra scoffs, finally turning to look at me. He looks much better than he did when Kuron tried to kill him. But even I can see that he is still weak, his body having trouble adjusting to this world—his Leviathan half.

“Apparently not enough,” he says.

I scoff, slowly approaching. I expect him to get up, to move, but he doesn’t. He watches me steadily until I am sitting next to him. I follow his gaze, looking up into the stars. I’m curious if he can see what I see.

“Can you sense it?” I ask.

Ezra pulls in a deep breath. “Barely. But being here helps clear it up.”

“And what exactly did it clear up?” I ask.

I hear him shift next to me, and I know he is looking at me.

“You. Your father. Our mother. You’re all connected to this place, somehow,” he says.

There’s a heavy weight in my chest hearing him speak of my parentage as if it is a singularity. As if we are nothing to one another because of it. I am glad for the feeling.

I nod, looking away from the stars to him. I’ve always looked out for Ezra. He has been my little brother, but my ally as well. He was always as capable. And our mother has ruined that for us. He has no idea how close he is to the truth. But to explain it now would be useless while he is in this state. And the longer I look at him, the heavier Iris’s words weigh on me.

Could I have been wrong in my approach to all of this?

“You know none of this is your fault,” I say.

He releases a bitter laugh, his heart rate increasing slightly. Whether it's fear or something else, I don’t know.

“Can you really say that to me after everything she put you through? You and Xion? I know both of you have spent so much of your lives looking out for me. But how much of it was real? How can it be real when she literally took you from all of this?” he asks.

I smile. He is asking the same questions I did.

“You weren’t born when she stole Xion and me away. You cannot think she planned for this. I was an unruly child, and I couldn’t acclimate. I poisoned Xion’s mind, angry because I knew that it wasn’t real. And she punished me for it. All of that had nothing to do with you,” I say.

I slowly lay back against the grass, closing my eyes as I try to sift through the logic and my true emotions.

“In fact, I should thank you. If you weren’t born, there’s no telling how long she would have kept me in that prison,” I say.

Ezra scoffs.

“You can’t be serious,” he says.

I slowly open my eyes, looking up into the sky. I feel strangely at peace. There’s a part of me that has been longing for this familiarity. But I’ve pushed it away because of what Ezra represents. And as I come into my own as a Celestivine, it has become more difficult to ignore.

“Do you know why our mother loves you so much?” I ask.

Ezra doesn’t respond, so I continue.

“You represent her freedom. Her choice. She chose you. She didn’t have you out of obligation. She created you out of love, from a place she chose to be—to help create, as is her natural affinity,” I say.

It bothers me that my mother and I are similar in that way. She clung to her love for Ezra in the way I cling to my love for Iris. Because it was my choice. I understand her, but I can never forgive her.

“My point is, I do not fault you for her decisions. They were made out of a desperation to protect her one true love. You,” I say, studying the stars. They are much different now than thet were when I was a child, and now that I’ve been training for the conversion, I know why.

“Then…why did you avoid me?” he asks.

“I was… lost myself. I didn’t know if what I felt for you was real or implanted. And I was angry at you for what happened on Xyrannis. For not protecting Iris and our child enough. I see now that it wasn’t your fault. It was mine,” I say.

Silence envelops us, but I don’t mind. It’s nice. It helps me settle my thoughts. There is no rush, there are no calculations to be made, and no one watching my decisions.

“And now?” he asks.

I laugh, looking at him.

“Now, I think I need my brother by my side. Because he is the only one I can trust,” I say.

Ezra’s eyes widen.

“Remus, I can’t. I’m the stain on our mother’s history. I’m the reason this world has fractured as much as it has—”

“No. Me’Rite is the reason. You came along long after,” I say.

Ezra looks away.

I sit up and place my hand on his shoulder. His energy levels are fractured and weak. Even his skin is cooler than usual. He slowly looks at me, and I see tears in his eyes. Iris was right. He is torturing himself. And for the first time, a heavy tinge of guilt settles over me. It picks away at my chest until it burns every inch of my body, weighing me down.

“I need you, brother. Both of you,” I say.

“But I’m not even…”

“Yes, you are. You have the blood of Celestivine in you. I’m not saying it will be easy, but when has your life ever been?” I say.

Ezra releases a tearful laugh, dropping his head.

“You will have to stop wallowing and begin training immediately. I need you ready in the coming weeks. Before the conversion,” I say, squeezing his shoulder.

Ezra looks at me in confusion.

"You don't mean--"

"Yes. You will be joining this society."