Celeste's POV
I huffed, staring at the ingredients laying in front of me on the counter with an almost blank expression, save for the slight twitch that had formed in my brow. I couldn't grab half of the ingredients on my own. I had discovered trying to lift my good arm too far brought a slight stretch to my other shoulder which in turn gave me stabbing pains. Tears spring to my eyes and I wipe at them furiously.
Cautiously, I lift my hand to grab the cutting board. It feels heavy in my hand and I quickly set it down on the counter. I move to cut the pre-washed vegetables. Hannah insisted on washing them for me even when I told her it wasn't necessary. Told her I could manage. Now, even holding a carrot steady against the board brings an ache to my shoulder. I push through, beginning to cut at a much slower pace than I'm used to. The carrot moves around the board slightly. I huff again, tightening my hold. A jolt goes through my arm and I hiss, letting it go. Taking several deep breaths, I try again. The same thing begins to happen and when the carrot gets smaller, it slips from my grip across the board. The entire board shifts and the knife knicks my finger tip. I curse at the sudden pain, throwing the knife into the sink and letting out a frustrated scream that echoes around the kitchen. Blood drips from my finger and tears fall from my eyes.
The door opens. "Celeste?" Xavier takes the quickest glance around the room, eyes landing on my hand as blood drips from my finger down into my palm. In two strides, he's across the room, turning on the sink and pulling me by my hip towards it. He's gentle as he pulls my arm up to let the water run over my bleeding finger but even that hurts. My lip wobbles. He grabs a paper towel and pulls back my hand, wrapping it around my finger. Leaning down, he presses his lips to my hand. "Are you okay?"
"No!" I push him away, his hand with the towel dropping from my already healing hand. I take the carrot pieces, now covered in little drops of blood, and carry them to the drawer with the trash, yanking it open and throwing the pieces inside. I stride between there and the counter, taking the rest of the stupid carrot and chucking that in the trash as well, slamming the drawer shut. "No, I am not okay." I swipe at the cutting board so it too falls in the sink. "I can't even cook a fucking meal. I can't train. I can barely even shower how I want to!" I begin to remove the rest of the ingredients on the counter, over this attempt. I throw produce back in the fridge, chucking pots and pans into cabinets I can reach. "I am not fucking okay!" The ones I know I can't put away get a glare and a harsh shove backwards.
Xavier's hands find my hips, pulling me back into his hold, his arm going around me and pinning my arms to my side. "Hey," he whispers against the shell of my ear. I bite at my wobbling lip, trying to pull free. He doesn't let me go, pulling me closer to him without much force but still enough to keep me against his hold. "Take a breath."
"Xavier," I whine. "Let me go." I tug again and all it does is bring an uncomfortable feeling to my arm.
He makes a gesture in front of me and I know what he's doing. He's trying to distract me and I don't care for it.
I want to wallow. I want to be angry.
For years, I felt pathetic. A burden to everyone. My old pack members, Christopher, even my own mother. I couldn't fend for myself, I could barely hunt, I couldn't contribute in any way. Then I get here and I feel it so deep in my soul that I'm destined to fail. I felt my lack of strength and lack of knowledge would stop me from being what everyone needs me to be. So I worked hard. I studied and I trained and I thought I was making progress. Now. . . Now I feel like I've taken five steps back and I don't know if I'll ever be able to catch up. To make matters worse, I could barely hold Wesley. I think that broke my heart most of all.
Xavier continues to move his hands in front of me as tears begin to fall. My shoulders begin to shake and I resign, slumping into him. "Xavier," I whine. "Just. . . Stop. I don't want to learn right now." I push at his hands in front of me, making him stop whatever he's attempting to tell me. I turn slowly, leaning into his chest where my tears dampen his cotton tee. His hands secure their spot back around me, squeezing my hips and rubbing one hand in circles on the small of my back.
"It's okay to be upset."
"Shut up," I mumble, snuggling my face further into his hold and taking in his scent. We stay like that until my tears subside. Longer, even. Until my breathing matches his and his scent is all I know.
"Lycer joined us for training this morning," he says softly against my hair. I hum. Lycer told me he was going to, said his strength was feeling better. That makes one of us at least. "He's not half bad. I think he could make a good warrior one day."
"I don't know if he'd like that," I mumble against his shirt.
"We'll find something for him." I close my eyes, thankful for this man that I love.
"I hate you."
He chuckles. "I love you too. Forever and always." He kisses the top of my head, swaying me in his hold for a moment. He pulls back, holding me just a breath away. "I have a meeting to get to." He doesn't want to leave me. I can see it in his eyes.
"Do you want me to come with you?" He winces and I furrow my brows. "It's okay, I can just go read or see Lycer."
"Lycer will be at the meeting."
"Oh." So it's about Malum.
"He knows him better than anyone. You said it yourself, you barely remember being there." Now I wince. I don't like to reflect on it. Even my journaling on it tends to be stopped halfway through, the pages half empty and often ending in the middle of a sentence. "I don't want something to be said that reminds you of any of it. I don't think it would even do any good."
So I'm useless here too.
I shove myself out of his hold. He grabs my hand, turning me back to him. "Don't be upset."
"I'm not." I pull my hand free, leaving the kitchen. He follows.
"Celeste." I keep walking, going down the hallway with my intentions set on the library. "Celeste, stop."
"It's fine, Xavier."
"You can come if you want to-"
"Celeste!" Zay pops her head out of her office, looking between Xavier and I. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"
The same time I say no, Xavier says yes. I glare at him. "No," I confirm. "Sorry, Zay." I cross my arms, leaning against the wall. Xavier hesitates beside me, deciding to not come closer. "I'm just in a bad mood today."
"Anything I can do for you?" I shake my head and she gives me a sympathetic smile. "Um, Shia got in last night. She wants to see you." She nods her head in the direction of her office.
"Solution found," I tell Xavier, walking past him into Zay's office.
"Celeste," he says from outside the door, Zay having followed me in. "I'll see you later, okay?" I nod. 'I love you,' he sends through our link. My shoulders deflate.
'Love you too.'
Shia, in all her mythical elegance, sits at Zay's desk. She stands when I turn to her, taking a step towards me and grabbing my forearms. "Celestial Jacobs, you had me worried."
"Sorry," I say, wincing at the use of my full name. Something about it reminds me of getting in trouble with my elders as a pup.
"Oh no apologies dear." She smooths down one side of my hair, hand resting on my cheek. Zay shoots her a look. "I'm just glad you're safe."
She ushers me to sit on the exam table and I comply. Zay takes her seat at her desk, now unoccupied, and begins to sort through several papers. "Zay told me a weapon of my kind was used on you." I wince, nodding. She sighs. "I'm sorry that happened. Magi weapons are extremely hard to acquire, even for magi. I, myself, only own one that was a gift for graduating training school."
"Lycer said it was a small blade of some kind."
"Well, I want to see what I can do." She gestures for me to take off my sweater. I listen, left in a short sleeved turtleneck that I roll up the shoulder of. She turns my wrists up, examining the long jagged lines that trace up my arms. She winces when her eyes land on my shoulder. Externally, the wound has closed to an uneven swirling pinch of pinkish flesh. Her fingers dance across the wound and I feel a flicker of a feeling I wouldn't quite call pain but definitely not comfortable. Most of the pain is internal now, coming from movements. In the week or two I've been back, Zay and I have worked on my range of motion but it's still not great, the effects seeming to stretch all the way to my hand. Her eyes flicker between their usual blue and a shade of orange. Strange creatures, magi.
"Well?" I ask after several moments of her turning my arm over and tracing over the scars.
"I don't think there's much I can do. The damage looks done. Magi weapons. . . They're a harsh thing, my dear." I nod, my hopes deflating. She seems to see this, catching my eyes. "But I will try, okay?" I nod. She holds out her palm, a ball of glowing light forming in her palm. My eyes widen as the ball continues to grow. "This might sting." She lifts her hand up, pressing it to my shoulder. I gasp, biting my lip. Sting is an understatement.