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“And where were you?” Natalie demanded, her voice fierce and pointed, even in the haze of the early morning. “You’re supposed to protect her!”
Alek’s nostrils flared, the hand he held at my back stiffening as he stared at Natalie.
My mind reeled. I couldn’t deal with this.
Too much had happened. If I didn’t know any better, I would think I was slipping into shock.
“I need to wash this blood off me,” I whispered. The blood from the demon, which coated my hair and back, was beginning to dry, leaving a sticky and gut-churning substance pasted all over my skin.
“We’ll talk more about this in the morning,” Alek murmured to them. He didn’t leave my side as I walked up the stairs, leaving a trail of mud and blood in my wake as I made my way to Alek’s bedroom.
Part of me wanted to be alone, wanted to clean the filth off myself so I could have some time to process what just happened to me.
But the other part of me was grateful for Alek. I knew he wouldn’t let me crumble, wouldn’t let me fall apart completely as long as he was near.
Alek did that to me. He made me stronger.
And yes, I was pissed off. I was pissed that he wasn’t there with me, was pissed that he was keeping half-truths and arriving just in time to save my life again.
I was pissed that he made me feel like this: needy and helpless, waiting for him to show up.
But his warm hand on my back was the only thing keeping me upright and grounded as he walked me into his bathroom, closing the door behind us and shutting out the rest of the world.
I stumbled forward and leaned against the sink, closing my eyes and finally exhaling.
“Hey.” Alek’s voice was soft and understanding, like a cool breeze in the darkness of my mind. “Look at me.”
I shook my head, keeping my eyes closed.
“Look at me, Lyra.” His hands were on me again, guiding me to turn around and face him. His finger found my chin, lifting with an incredibly gentle touch.
I raised my head. When I opened my eyes, he was already looking at me with such delicacy, such tenderness, that tears rushed to my eyes.
He grazed a finger over my sore cheekbone, only letting anger distort his features for a second before recovering again, his brows drawn together and his eyes dark with an unreadable emotion.
“Natalie was right. I’m supposed to be protecting you. Not the other way around.”
I scoffed. “You’re the one saving my life again. I think you’re still doing a decent job, all things considered.”
“Yet you’re the one walking away from this injured. They hurt you, Lyra.”
“I’ve been through worse.” I shrugged.
He stilled, the finger on my cheekbone freezing. “You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any of this shit that’s happened to you.”
My lips thinned. “Apparently, someone controlling my destiny believes otherwise.”
A few seconds passed, the weight of my words weighing down on both of us.
“Come here,” he said. “Let me help you out of this.”
His hands fell to my jacket, gently peeling away the black leather. Our breaths blended together as the air hit my skin, the sticky fabric of my jacket peeling away, along with the weight it carried.
Alek tossed it onto the bathroom floor before walking over to the shower and turning it on.
I glanced over my shoulder, looking at myself in the mirror for the first time since being taken.
My face was unrecognizable. Aside from the busted skin above my cheekbone that was now showing the first signs of a black eye, I was caked in filth. Dark blood flattened my red hair, pasting it to the side of my face. The rest of my skin was dotted with the splatter, some of it smeared down my neck and across my chest.
