EMRYS

"IF YOU DON'T QUIT wiggling about, I'll sever your limbs with these shears."

Emrys lowered a half-eaten bacon strip from his mouth. It was the eighth time in twelve minutes that he'd heard a similar threat, but it felt like double as he swallowed his mouthful.

He placed the strip back on his plate with a defeated sigh. The taste that lingered on his tongue, combined with the mouthwatering aroma of pancakes and donut holes, made his stomach rumble. Mystia had kept herself busy all morning, flitting between making breakfast and trimming his hair.

It hadn't been an easy task, not with a hungry Phoenix squirming between clips—or mid-snip, when she would cry out in anguish as she cut a section of his hair a little too short. Finally, she had relented and slapped a bacon platter on the kitchen island to satisfy him.

What was the point of sating his appetite if she was going to yell at him every time he took a bite?

Emrys hunched over on the counter, leg bouncing on the bottom rung of his stool.

"Stop slouching."

It took more energy than it should've for him to suppress a groan, but when his companion dropped the strands she'd just pinched between her fingers, he knew she had heard one in his thoughts anyway. He craned his neck to find her staring him down with hands on her hips.

"I'm hungry," he grumbled, drumming his fingers against the counter.

"And I'm tired of your hair covering up your face."

Emrys pouted. "I kept it trimmed up on Earth."

For the most part, he thought.

An amused grin surfaced on Mystia's lips. He really had tried to keep up his appearance on Earth. It just so happened that he wasn't coordinated with scissors and often found the chunks he snipped off to be quite uneven.

Using his Jensen guise for so long had spoiled him; it was the one body that was frozen in time. Its hair never grew. Nails didn't need trimmed. Even his beard always remained at the right length: not just stubble, but never too scruffy. Much like the way Mystia had shaped his Phoenix form's facial hair earlier that morning.

"I can tell." She flicked his shaggy bangs over his eyes. "Unless you want a similar hack job, I'd suggest shutting your mouth and being a good statue."

Emrys crinkled his nose. Sure, there were a few choppy bits, but it couldn't have been that bad. Eva certainly hadn't said anything about it being a 'hack job.'

"Yes, because the lovesick puppy is going to tell you otherwise."

Without giving him a chance to retort, Mystia flashed an innocent smile and set her shears down. Emrys glowered at her as she began plating the last stack of pancakes.

The sound of footsteps in the common room interrupted his sulking. Eva pushed through the swinging kitchen doors, dog-earing a page in her latest read. If Emrys had counted correctly, it was her sixth book in three days, and she was already three-quarters of the way finished. He had no idea how she managed it, considering the dark circles underneath her eyes after so long without sleep and only Mystia's most potent coffee to keep her going. The exhaustion was plain on her face as she snatched a barstool across the counter from Emrys and passed him a tired smile.

Mystia threw a half-hearted wave over her shoulder. "Good morning." She reached for the hellfire-enchanted coffee pot beside the stove. "I trust you had as restful a night as you could?"

Eva laughed. "You could say that."

Mystia turned, filling a tankard with the triple-strength brew from her pot—enough to keep their human friend from passing out for at least another hour. As Eva took the mug with trembling fingers, Emrys wondered how her caffeinated heart hadn't slammed straight through her ribcage.

Satisfied, Mystia returned her attention to the opposing counter, where she grabbed a set of tongs. "At least the fire child has gotten more restful sleep now that he has a bedmate."

Coffee sputtered from Eva's lips, and a chunk of bacon found its way down Emrys' windpipe. Mystia laughed at their choking fits while she plated the glazed donut holes she'd prepared earlier that morning.

Emrys shot her a pointed look.

It isn't like that, he thought.

"It may not be," Mystia teased, "but I can hear your dreams all the way from my quarters."

Though he tried his best to hold a stern glare, when Mystia smirked, he knew his eyes must have reflected the fear swelling in his chest.

Eva didn't seem to notice, only glancing between the two of them curiously. Emrys knew it twisted her own brain to think of Mystia's mind-reading tricks. She had caught on a few evenings prior, but he wished she hadn't. It was too invasive, and he was thankful that Eva's thoughts were protected from the spell—and the moment the thought crossed his mind, Mystia flashed a sideways smirk.

Don't you dare.

Mystia didn't acknowledge him, but instead set platters of donut holes and pancakes on the kitchen island. Picking up her shears once again, she went back to work evening up his hair.

For a moment, he debated if reaching for food was worth his friend's wrath again, but his growling stomach made the decision for him. As Emrys brought a donut hole to his lips, a few clippings of hair fell on the warm glaze. The nearly inaudible giggle from behind him told him it wasn't an accident. After picking his hair from the coating, he popped the pastry into his mouth.

"Well?" asked Mystia expectantly. "Are they as good as you hoped?"

Emrys paused. While they would do in a pinch, the treats were a bit dry and lacked the same pop of flavor as the ones he bought daily from Ambrosia's Brew—not to mention the glaze hardly seemed sweetened at all. It wasn't bad for her first attempt, considering she had run off vague descriptions of sweets nonexistent in Astraela.

Still, he didn't have the heart to do anything but smile. "They're perfect."

Mystia whacked him upside the head. "Stop flattering me."

"Stop reading my mind!"

"That's not how I get honest opinions, though, is it?" She dusted the stray hair from Emrys' t-shirt. "At least it'll satisfy your sweet tooth for now, I suppose."

Eva quirked a brow at the exchange before eyeing the plate of pastries. "Are you trying to recreate Bobbi's?"

"Thought it'd cheer this one up after losing that Runestone of his." Mystia's words, though meant to be playful, made Emrys' shoulders sink. She quickly changed the subject. "Has she shared her recipe with you?"

"I wish," said Eva. "Maybe once we get her here, she'll whip some up."

Mystia chuckled and pushed Emrys' shoulder. "Too much of that and I'll be turning this one into a candle again."

Emrys rolled his eyes as she ruffled his hair.

Confusion was evident on Eva's face. "What do you—"

"Don't ask," Emrys interrupted. "You don't want to know."

While Eva's scrunched-up face was laced with questions, she chose the smarter option of nodding silently. It was a relief to have her back to her old self, curious about everything and frustrated by her limited knowledge of a world she once thought she'd created. Everything about it was enamoring, from the quizzical glint in her pale eyes to the way her nose twitched like a bunny as she mulled over internal theories.

Heat scalded Emrys' neck as Mystia's fingers drummed playfully along his shoulder. He had to stop thinking around her—and Eva's knowing smile made the sensation increase. Drowning in their laughter, he reached for a donut hole in desperation.

A sharp pain pierced his skull.

Donut holes flew in every direction. The cold tile floor rose to meet him, though the pain prevented him from feeling its impact. His lungs burned and his chest ached with an all-too-familiar sensation. Flashing darkness and blood red sparks alternated with blinding white-hot light. Distant sounds of scuffle grew closer, along with a howling wind that nearly overpowered any other noise—except the screams.

"Emrys!" Bobbi's voice was unmistakable.

The vision threatened to fade, but Emrys forced his eyes shut in an attempt to keep the Runestone's communication open. Bobbi's face broke through the shadows, wide-eyed and contorted in a plea for help. Darkness wrapped around her limbs and yanked her to the floor. She fell, helpless to stop herself from being dragged away from his amulet. Slimy tendrils snaked across her face, suffocating her cries.

A looming figure pulled her closer with stringy webs that oozed from its pores. Its face was distorted beyond recognition, split across the center to reveal an endless maw and a dull, green glow emanating within its core.

Emrys snapped his eyes open to forcefully end the connection. Sweat drenched his shirt and slickened his half-trimmed hair. When he brought himself to his knees on the kitchen floor, a hand gripped his shoulder.

Mystia squatted at his side, passing worried glances to Eva, who knelt beside her with trembling hands.

"What happened?" asked Eva. "What did you see?"

"It's Bobbi." Emrys swiped the sticky hair from his forehead. "Something found her, but... it isn't Kali. I don't know what the hell it is."

Panic struck Eva's face. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she stared at him expectantly. It shattered him. She was too familiar with what horrors the Darkness created, let alone how quickly it destroyed.

Emrys was thankful that she hadn't borne witness to his own vision—unlike Mystia, who let out a shuddering sigh.

"If it's the Darkness," said Mystia, "that girl's already as good as dead—"

"I have to find her." Emrys got to his feet, shrugging her hand from his shoulder.

For once, she didn't fight him and watched instead as he made a beeline for the kitchen doors.

"Emrys!" she hollered. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Earth."

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