Theo had been running more blood tests on Mordred now that he was essentially human, and he’d been pouring over the data with Rune in the clinic, making sure his findings were correct as we examined the change from shifter to human.
I didn’t even need to preface who I was talking about when I asked, “How is he?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I couldn’t shy away from learning what had happened in the aftermath of the choice my brother—er, Mordred—had made, no matter how difficult it had been to witness. I needed to stomach the terror of watching his alters being destroyed and find a way to move past it. I was the leader of Faction Opal, after all, and this was what they stood for. As long as the process was safe, who was I to get in the way of a shifter that wanted to be stripped of their creature to live as a human? It wasn’t my call to make, and in my eyes, it was the crux of the rebellion—the freedom to make choices, to be free of fear, and to live without oppression. If we started making decisions to the contrary, we were no better than the Council themselves.
“Surprisingly, he’s doing well. Better than he was. He seems to be faring better now that his body doesn’t have to share space with so many alters. Damien said his mind is clearer, but…” Theo rubbed the back of his neck, hesitating.
“What?” I prompted, needing to know.
“Living with such a crowded mind for so long has taken its toll. It’s not likely his brain will recover from the trauma of his genetic mutations. His body may be fully human, and his alters may be gone, but that doesn’t mean he’ll ever be what humans would call normal.”
“So he’s just as fucked up as before?” Killian questioned with an unbelieving lilt.
“No.” Theo shook his head as he unscrewed the top of the thermos. “You saw him. He looks human now, and that alone will help him reintegrate into society, but it’s possible he’ll suffer something akin to Dissociative Identity Disorder. For years he’s lived with a surplus of fractured creatures in his mind, all clamoring to be heard. We’ve removed his alters, but that part of him won’t go away. He still remembers. He still has to cope with the loss, and his mind may never heal.”
“Well, I guess that’s all you can ask for.” Killian ran a hand down his face. “At least he looks human. It will give him a chance in the human world. Hopefully, he’ll find a life for himself away from all the shit he’s lived through.”
“In that way, I guess we’re similar.” I took the mug Theo offered, letting the heat of the hot chocolate inside warm my hands as I stared into the floating marshmallows he’d added. “We’re both running from our fucked up pasts.”
“You’re not running anymore, Nix,” Hiro rebuked gently. “You stopped running a long time ago. Now you’re fighting back.”
I sat up straight, shifting until my feet were back on the floor. “It doesn’t feel like that. Everything that’s happened is just another string that weaves a web full of more questions than answers. Like why the hell is Stepanov claiming to be my father?”
“I told you this before. He’s trying to fuck with your head,” Killian growled, nearly crushing the mug he now held. I swore I heard the plastic groan from the strength of his grip.
“But if Birdman is my brother” —I swallowed past my dry throat— “and he was born in the twisted breeding program the Council created” —I glanced to each one of them in turn— “and the common link between us is our father, then it’s possible, isn’t it? What Mordred and Stepanov are claiming could be true.”
The entire cabin was quiet as the guys exchanged intense glances, but it was Theo who spoke first. “The lore is obscure at best, but if one of Stepanov’s powers is shifting into a crow, then yes, it’s possible.”
“Can you check the markers against that theory, Theo?” Hiro inquired, his dark eyes sharp behind his glasses.
“I already am,” Theo divulged. “I was curious. I hope you’re not upset.” He glanced in my direction, and I offered him a wobbly smile.
“I guess it’s better to know for sure.” I blew lightly over the top of my hot chocolate before I took a sip, giving my thoughts time to arrange themselves. “There’s just something that doesn’t make sense. How does Michael—Henri, whatever—play into all of this? What was he doing with my mother, and how did he end up raising me? If Stepanov is my father, there’s no way he would have let a phoenix grow up outside of his hold. I have no doubt he would have used me for his own purposes, whatever they were.”
“Maybe it was some kind of love triangle shit? Like your mother was with both of them and then chose Henri over Stepanov? They’d have had to run if that was the case, because good ole Valen Stepanov would have had Henri killed for taking what he saw as his. And having a phoenix shifter for a mate would have given him a societal boost, even over his own powerful alter,” Killian mused.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right. I don’t really remember her, so maybe this is just a childhood fantasy, but I don’t think my mother would have been involved with either of them. They’re both scumbags.” I spat the last word, thinking about my mother with either man was a letdown I wasn’t sure my heart could take. From what I could remember, she was the only one who’d ever cared about me until I met the guys. Her being romantically involved with either shitty man felt like a betrayal.
“Scumbag is one word for them. Fuck wads is another.” Killian smirked.
“I prefer douche canoes.” Theo’s grin tugged up the corners of his mouth as I gaped.
“None of those are strong enough.” Hiro let out a string of words in Japanese I assumed were colorful curses, and I shook my head.
“I can’t with you guys.” I laughed, and it helped relax me. “While I can’t repeat yours, Hiro, it sounded too pretty to be a foul curse. I’ll never tire of hearing you speak in your native tongue.”
Theo propped himself against the arm of the loveseat and took a deep pull from his mug, speaking again when the room quieted. “The truth is, we may never know your full history, but if it’s something that’s bothering you, especially with your connection to Mordred and the possible genetic link with Stepanov, we can do our best to uncover what we can for you.”
I nodded while I thought it over.
“If you’re truly curious about your past, Nix, maybe Damien can help,” Kill grumbled from beside me, clearly unhappy with the idea of me delving back into my past after the last time, but offering the suggestion anyway.
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure I wanted to try that little trick again, though I trusted Damien to help me if I decided it was worth it.
“I know we don’t have Gaspard to guide him now, but Damien is strong,” Hiro interjected, his tone as calm and gentle as if he was cajoling a bunny from its hiding place after it scented his Kitsune. Somehow, I knew he could pull off that feat, and his smooth tenor was a balm to my nerves. “I’m sure he could help you reach memories you’ve forgotten about. Ones with your mom in them.” It sounded tempting, and I wavered as I imagined getting to see her again in my memories. “Every theory we come up with is just conjecture. Maybe it would help answer some of your questions and put a few of your fears to rest.”