[This post is from Hecate’s point of view.]
She sat in silence hours later, legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Hecate stared at the floor, still wrestling with her emotions and the situation they faced.
This is my fault.
Marin had tried to reassure her that it wasn’t, but she knew the truth. Leviathan wouldn’t be nearly as interested as any of them if not for her presence there.
It made her sick to her stomach to think about.
She’d sent Matt up to the forge, told him she’d be all right alone. Perhaps it had been a lie, but they’d both let it pass. Now he was up there doing what he needed to do and she was here, alone with thoughts she knew were dangerous but couldn’t stop.
Someone knocked at the door and for a few seconds, her heart seized up. She couldn’t breathe. Panic welled up, paralyzing her.
A second knock came, followed by a voice.
“Hecate? It’s Marin. Can I come in?”
She exhaled a shaking breath as the bands around her chest loosened, the ones born of panic and fear. Hecate pushed herself slowly to her feet and went to the door, her movements slow and careful. Her side ached, a deep, gnawing pain. It hadn’t felt like that before that morning. She’d have to tell someone.
But not right now.
She unlocked the door and swung it open, stepping back carefully. Marin peeked through the crack, then slipped inside. She was still carrying her son and for a moment, Hecate wondered if she ever let the infant out of her sight.
“Are you all right?” Marin asked as she closed the door and Hecate retreated to the bed.
“I don’t know,” Hecate whispered, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. She tugged the blankets from the bed around herself and drew her knees to her chest. “Probably not.”
Marin pulled up a chair and sat down, facing her. “Because of Leviathan and all of that bullshit?”
She closed her eyes against the sting and nodded.
Marin hugged her silently, gently, and Hecate began to cry.
