My chest tightened with the pounding of my heart, my pulse ripping through my veins. My breath stopped short, though I wasn’t sure if it ceased out of terror or hatred or the warmth pooling in my stomach, and not being able to identify it left me tumbling in my own fury.
“That I know your secrets.” His voice was a whisper, rough and dangerous in my ears. “Iownyour secrets.” Inches away, his eyes flicked to my mouth and stayed there. “I know what youare, Leihani. One word—onetoeout of place—and I won’t hesitate to end you. If you and Thaan even think of playing me false—”
Well, that was enough of that. The size of this man’s nerve.Meplayhimfalse?
I kicked him.
Or tried to.
His body seemed to sense the attack almost without a conscious thought even entering his head, likely the unfortunate symptom of a fatuous mind, though in this instance it worked in his favor. He tucked into his knees, dropping to a crouch and sweeping my feet out from under me with the leg I’d meant to hit.
A searing heat shot from my ankle and up my leg before I even hit the ground, my head bouncing off the wall with a resounding thwack. Stars twinkled over the horizon of my vision as I reached for my ankle, still tender from the night before.
“Shit,” he said, letting his knees crash impulsively to the floor in front of me.
I ignored him as I groped for my own leg, the pain igniting as I flexed my foot. A sharp sting pricked the corners of my eyes, and I bit back the rising horror that my anger would leave me crying.
Mihauna, if I could cry at anything, why would you make me cry when I’mangry? Why this moment—in front ofhim?
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Kye said, remorse heavy in his voice. I glanced up at him, meeting a gaze clouded with shame, though it melted as soon as our eyes connected, and he stared at me with fists suddenly clenched, jaw rigid.
“Get out.” I clutched the wall as I pushed to my feet, gasping in pain as I tried to set my foot flat on the floor.
Kye reached for my arm. What he planned to do, I’m not sure. Lead me to a chair? Tuck me into bed? Comfort me with a prayer to the Calderian moon so that he could stab me in the back tomorrow?
I snatched myself out of his range, hissing like a mad cat. “I don’t need your help.Get out.”
He watched me struggle a moment longer before disappearing through the door.
I sat heavily on my couch, landing on something hard. His folded knife. I chucked it at the wall I’d just left, then sat glaring at it, and noticed a peculiar noise carrying on outside my door, like a liquid ticking.
Propping my foot up in front of me, I went still, listening hard.
Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub.
Was that…a heartbeat?
Your hearing will grow sharper.
I twisted, gritting my teeth as I shifted my weight, needing the full view of my door. The sound came from just beyond the other side, the cadence slightly more accelerated than my own.
A long exhale followed, then soft footsteps across the hall. A distant door closed.
31
“Don’t get up, I’ve got it,” Selena said the next morning as she entered my apartment, arms laden with goods.
I sank back into my chair, relieved. It would have taken me the full cycle of the damn moon to stand. Besides, for reasons I couldn't articulate, I didn't want to explain why or how I'd hurt my foot.
Sitting a basket onto the table, Selena laid out breakfast of fried and buttered fish, a bowl of cashew nuts, and a round, cheery fruit with thick skin she called an orange.
Pouring a glass of wine, Selena sloped herself against her chair, gracefully peeling her own orange, and announced that I needed one more day of rest.
“Besides,” she said, a bright orange wedge hovering over her mouth. “We haven’t had a chance to celebrate. Transition is a monumental milestone, not one to be quickly forgotten in the face of study. You’ve done everything I’ve asked, and I couldn’t be prouder.” She poured another glass and held it out to me.
I took it slowly, too aware of the last thing I’d toasted against my will.
It was hard not to let the praise pad my ego, and harder for me to consciously separate flattery from my feelings toward Selena. I hadn't volunteered to be here—I’d been forced. Although some part of me might be forever grateful for Selena’s hand in my transition, it was an outcome that would have unfolded on its own in Leihani.
