Posts

2.20. Love Is Patient

Image
Lark frowns as she runs her fingers over her jawline. A series of fresh pimples meets her touch. She rustles through the vanity's drawers, cursing under her breath as she searches for cotton balls and a bottle of witch hazel. She soaks a cotton ball and touches it to her face. The cool of the astringent is temporarily soothing, until Lark angrily rubs the cotton over one particularly prominent pimple. A sting accompanies the pop, but she feels no relief. She’s nearly 30 and way too old for breakouts like this.
In fact, the last time she had a breakout this bad was when she was pregnant with Fenrir.

2.19. Inverse Probability Flux

Image
Lark recoils, her eyes widening with fright.

“Will it hurt?” she whimpers.

“It doesn’t hurt, Lark. You ask that every time and it never hurts, does it?”

“I’m just nervous, okay?”

2.18. One Hundred Words

Image
The days fly by.

2.17. Some Kind of Monster

Image
It’s barely morning--long enough after midnight for someone to be starting their day, but too early for that someone to be a reasonable human being.

Lark is jolted awake, disturbed into consciousness after something jumped into bed next to her. Her heart races as she blinks at her surroundings, which take on nefarious qualities in the low light of dawn. It takes a moment for the panic to subside--she’s in her new room in her new house.

2.16. Rude & Reckless

Image
Karl’s home is nothing like Nikolas expected: it’s a large, meticulously kept house in the center of town. Prime real estate, really, something that doesn’t seem fitting for someone as crude as Karl. A messy apartment, a rundown rental house, or even a dilapidated trailer all seem more appropriate. Perhaps that would have been his digs, had Karl not inherited the house from his mother.

2.15. Spare Changeling, Part Two

Image
“Morrigan, Tide,” Aletheia spreads her arms and smiles widely, “I appreciate you heeding my summons so late into the evening.”

“We have business to discuss--no need for pleasantries.”

“Pleasantries--”

“With all due respect, Your Grace, we were told that you would be sending the girl to the mortal realm, and we would no longer be responsible for her,” Morrigan snaps, “what is she doing back in Faefall?” Morrigan’s cruel eyes focus on the changeling girl, who is happily at play with Bjorn.

“Our would-be son’s parents came to claim him, and I decided--”

“Decided to what? Renounce our oath?”

“Patience, Morrigan--we will resolve this.”

2.14. Spare Changeling, Part One

Image
Dominic stares at the child. She stares back. Their eyes remain locked until Lark speaks.

“Thanks for coming,” Lark says, “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“No problem,” he says absently, “so you found her in Bjorn’s crib?”

Lark nods. “I looked everywhere for him,” her voice cracks as she holds back a sob, “but I can’t find him.”  Lark kicks at the floor. Her eyes are puffy and red, her cheeks tear streaked.