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I want that desperately.
Probably more than anyone here.
But there are times I feel unworthy. As if I’m fated to die alone like some cosmic irony.
“No. I have never been loved, nor have I ever been in love.” The words taste like ash and hopelessness on my tongue.
“That makes you sad.”
“Of course, it does,” I snap with a sharp tone. “Love is the most beautiful thing in the world. It would be a tragedy if I died here without ever experiencing it.”
“You’re not going to die here, Niles.” Marilynn grimaces. Those plump, cherry-red lips turning downward.
I laugh quietly. “It’s looking pretty grim.”
We remain quiet for a few minutes while she continues to massage my foot. I’d feel guilty that she’s staying up late to do this for me if it wasn’t relieving so much pain. I’m so fucking grateful; I wish I could give her a hug.
“Thank you for being kind to me,” I say sleepily.
She wakes up from a deep thought, looking me over with those wide, ocean-blue eyes.
“I get teased a lot. I don’t mind that at all, because I wield my humor like a sword. I love to laugh and to make others laugh. But sometimes it’s nice to be seen and respected.”
Rambling. I always ramble. It’s bad enough that this poor girl is rubbing my foot to keep me from waking up the prison with my screams. Now I’m talking her ear off.
“I see.”
Marilynn leans her forehead against a bar, steering her contemplative expression away from me as she reflects.
“I think you’re a good man,” she adds in a whisper. “When you go to sleep tonight, maybe you’ll dream of your soul mate instead of having a nightmare.”
I smile sadly. “Maybe.”
7. Blood
Skylenna
I nearly panic when my eyes peel open to see the charcoal ceiling and crooked bars over my head. I have a flashback to Albatross and his wicked ways of tormenting me. I remember the hardness of Absinthe’s hand cracking over my cheekbone. It turns my stomach upside down, releases a cold sweat across my neck, and constricts my lungs from expanding to bring in more air.
But I feel him beside me.
Feel the beating of his heart sending a ripple through the air that only I can sense.
Feel him slowly wake up. Open his eyes. Blink. And to think, there was a time when I thought I’d never see him blink again.
I turn my head to watch him adjust to our temporary home. And my entire body seems to sigh at the sight of him. His furrowed brow. Clenched jaw. Warm tan skin. And those dark-mahogany eyes.
He sits up against the bars, rubs a hand over his face, and I can see his mind working. A constant, well-oiled machine that is trying to get us out of this mess. But he won’t do it alone. I swear on everything…Dessin will not do this alone.
My stomach gurgles loudly, and Dessin shudders, eyeing my waist like it just said something highly offensive.
“It’s fine,” I say with an embarrassed laugh.
“No, it’s not.”
Bad mood Dessin. He’s cranky. Hungry. And murderous.
Look out, Vexamen Prison.
