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Entitled prick.
I scowled at the closed door and silently cursed him through it. Turning back to the bag, I moved to pick it up again, but found myself hesitating. The little jar of soil that I knew was tucked in that side pocket felt like it was burning a hole in my heart.
Why in The Origin’s name did he have it? Something about it made me not want to throw his shit out the window… but I didn’t want him thinking I had forgiven him either when he inevitably came back to get his stuff. With a huff, I ripped open the door, and pushed his bag out into the hall before slamming it back closed behind me.
There. Compromise.
I braced myself for him to come storming down the hall at the sound of the door slamming shut. I clenched my fists at my sides and grit my teeth. If he came back in here, I wouldn’t hold back. I may not be able to blast him away, but I still had a mean right hook.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
I pretended that I wouldn’t freeze, or immediately be overwhelmed with the urge to run from him the second he walked through the door. I wouldn’t cower this time. I would push through the bleating panic that overtook me every time someone moved too quickly or came too close. I wasn’t afraid of anyone. I was Kasha, Spymaster for The Court of Pride. I was going to kick his ass!
Glaring at the door, I waited, and waited, but he didn’t come back. I pressed my ear to the wood and could hear him and Rhyalla talking in the kitchen. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they both sounded like they were having a perfectly amicable conversation. I ignored the bitter bite of disappointment that welled through me and frowned. Why was I disappointed? It was good he hadn’t come back. I didn’t want him in here anyway.
Suddenly, and without warning, a wave of fatigue rolled through me, stealing the strength from my limbs. This seemed to keep happening. I would be fine and almost feeling back to my old self, then would suddenly feel so drained I could barely stand up. Nearly shaking with exhaustion, I stripped off my restructium suit and dug through my bag for something comfy to sleep in. Finding a soft, oversized T-shirt and some cotton undies, I curled up in the large bed and closed my eyes. The second I did, the memories came rushing back.
‘Hold her down’
‘Just order her to stay still.’
‘No, I like it when she tries to fight us off.’
My eyes flew open, and I stared out the window, willing my mind to let me rest. I didn’t know how I was going to get to sleep if every time I shut my eyes, I was plagued with memories of my tormentors. What killed me, was most of them were probably still out there, doing what they had done to me to some other poor daemon, who was likely just as helpless.
I curled in on myself, wrapping my arms around my head and doing my best to push back the tears that threatened to spill over. Without Rycon here to tease and goad me, the silence felt too thick.
I lay there, fighting off the memories of the daemons who had hurt me, until my eyes grew so heavy, I could no longer keep them open. Finally, I fell asleep, and let the nightmares consume me.
Rycon
Ihad been filling Rhyalla in on what had gone down since I last saw her when I heard Kasha slam the bedroom door. I leaned over in my chair and saw she had dumped my bag outside of the room and I felt my lips quirk despite myself.
Little instigator.
I moved to get up, but Rhyalla laid a hand on my arm and shook her head.
“Give her some space.” She said.
Torn between the need to barrel back into the room and ram my bag into the wardrobe just to piss her off, and actually wanting her to feel safe and happy here, I finally conceded and sat back down.
“She’s goading me intentionally. You heard the shit she said to me in there. It’s like she’s trying to make me snap.” I grumbled, knowing that with her shifter hearing, my sister would have heard every word. Rhyalla nodded, fingering a grape idly.
“Hurt people, hurt people, Rycon. You should know that better than anybody.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I growled, but Rhyalla just snorted.
“You know exactly what I mean. Our parents were murdered, and you ran away to join a mercenary group and literally killed people for ten years. Forgive Kasha if she wants to lash out and call you an asshole for… I don’t know, being an asshole.”
“You’re annoying.” I grumbled.
“I’m right.” She smirked, just as the front door opened and K’yen’s campfire and cedar scent rolled through the room.
“Thought I would find you in here.” he said as he strode into the kitchen. He was barefoot and bare chested as usual, with his machete strapped across his back. His mating bone was tied around his throat on a thick black cord, and he gave me a charming grin before planting a kiss on my sister’s head.
“Hey Rycon, welcome back.” He purred and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Hope you’re treating my sister like the Rhiannon she is.” I muttered. He smirked and nodded.
