"Neither do you."
I watched his entire body stiffen under the blow of my words, but he didn't stop his trajectory, and simply kept walking until I saw his large frame step out the gate and onto the sidewalk.
"Sorry about him." Stepen shrugged awkwardly. "He's just tense - worried really."
I narrowed my gaze on Stepen, allowing him to see every inch of disdain I had for Eli. He was correct, though, because once Dimitri awoke, it was most definitely a conversation that we needed to have.
I turned around wordlessly, returning towards our room - to Dimitri, as I inadvertently dismissed Stepen.
There was work to be done.
I halted my frame in the doorway as I took in the still figure that was Dimitri. I missed the arrogant asshole - missed the way he pressed my body into the mattress, the way he dug his sigil ring into my clit, the way he filled me. I even missed his condescending tone and the way he called me 'Little Vedman'.
I was utterly fucked, and my parents thought that I belonged to him - that this whole set up was entirely normal.
I shook myself into action, hoping to erase such frivolous thoughts from my mind - they would do me no good here. My feet sank into the soft carpet as I marched across the room towards my make-shift desk.
The large plastic bag that sat on the vanity seemed to beckon me in the broken stream of watery sunlight that filtered through the dark curtains that hung in Dimitri's room. A stark contrast to the darkened room that Dimitri seemed to prefer. But the space had already softened somehow with my presence, as if I alone allowed the light in.
It was a ludicrous thought.
Obsidian beads and harsh gems poked and prodded the plastic bag, making it far heavier than I remembered as I lifted it off of the vanity.
I refused to leave Dimitri's side to go and hunt for the obsidian beads I needed for the Bratva's protection bracelets, so I relied on Etsy instead. It was a wonderful service filled with Witches willing to sell their wares to both the Magickal and non-Magickal community alike.
I hadn’t trusted Stepen to be able to determine an obsidian bead from the next black bead, and so this was the best that I could come up with. The Etsy store also came highly recommended by Jesse, so that also counted for something.
The plastic bag with Stepen’s delivery, coupled with the bag of obsidian beads and gems weighed heavily against my conscience as I made my way towards the dark en-suite bathroom.
Stepen had already told me that the Bratva had suffered two losses from the explosion that hit the warehouse - two lives that I could have done something to protect, and instead, had been too wrapped up in my own hesitancy centered on whether or not I belonged here. The truth was, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter whether I belonged here or not. The only thing that mattered was what I chose to do with my time here, and up to this point, I had inadvertently chosen not to protect them.
My guilt rose higher to the surface and I had to swallow the emotion down - had to ignore the sound of Dimitri’s breaths coming from the bedroom as he lay still, because to allow myself to succumb to these thoughts would be catastrophic.
I exhaled, allowing the cool bite of the tiled floor to center me - to keep me present in the here-and-now as I sat cross legged on the ground, sorting through the bags before me.
As I referred to the printed out list of names Stepen had given me, I carved sigils and full names into the pillar candles from the plastic bag he had delivered today. My mind emptied out of thoughts and emotion, and all I could focus on was their protection. My body vibrated with the need to protect them - to keep them safe, and I thought of nothing more than transferring those very intentions into the beads themselves as I strung each bracelet together one-by-one.
I didn’t have to look up to know that Isis was here - her very presence felt suffocating in a way I hadn't yet experienced. And yet, I was also grateful for her presence - her Magick - her willingness to be here and help. Because I needed Dimitri to be okay, any other outcome was entirely unacceptable.
The work of a Witch was often long, detailed, and arduous, but I persisted, ignoring the way my fingers spasmed and ached after hours of bead assembly. And once all fifty-two bracelets had been threaded and imbued with protective intention, and once all candles had been carved and imprinted, I exhaled in satisfied relief. I blinked once, allowing myself to take in my surrounding, suddenly aware that I had been working by the light of the moon. What time was it?
My stomach grumbled in protest, but I ignored it, refusing to halt my work to appease my appetite - not when I was so close to being finished. Goosebumps raised across my flesh and my body shivered, but still, I pushed forward. Lining up the candles in rows, circling each one with a protection bracelet. I opted not to use plates, placing the candles directly on the cool tiles of the floor, knowing full well that it would be a bitch to lift and scrub the wax off in the morning. But I didn’t care about the mess it would make. The need to shield and protect them was thrumming through me with a violence that was almost crippling as I doused each pillar with oils filled with intention, and pressed the flame to each candle, lighting up the space before me in a way that harkened back to the temples dedicated to the goddess that was present now. As the flame flickered against the final candle, I began chanting - calling upon Isis herself to imbue these bracelets with protective properties, the shivers that wracked through my body somehow long forgotten.
The flames danced and grew, cresting higher and higher until I could see them reflected in the mirror above the bathroom vanity. I wasn’t frightened, if anything, I was enthralled. The bathroom was fully tiled, and so I knew that there was little chance of causing an unintentional fire in Dimitri’s home. I found Isis’ gaze met mine in the reflection of the mirror, and her very presence somehow settled the knot inside of me - soothed away the tension and doubt of what I was doing - who I was becoming, even.
As the last words of the spell left my lips, the flames dropped down to a normal height and I felt Isis’ presence dissipate.
My body shook and shivered as I left the bathroom, and I opted to slide out of my clothing and press my cool flesh against Dimitri’s warmth, the need for sleep overpowering that of hunger. When sleep engulfed me, I slept a dreamless sleep.