Carefully, she untangled herself from the growing pile of pillows and blankets we’d been giving to her and moved toward me. I stayed completely still, disbelief hitting hard when I realized she was coming closerwillingly.
She stopped directly in front of me and lifted her hand.
Time slowed as her fingers brushed my cheek just for the briefest second.
Then, just as quickly, she recoiled, staring at her hand.
Blood stained her fingertip.
Fuck.I guess I should've cleaned myself up before coming to her room.Was she frightened?
Her eyes were wider now, bewildered.Yup, she was afraid.Lena was always afraid of me.
I stood slowly. Painfully slow. I didn't want to scare her more or make her cower from me. Straightening, I did my best not to tower over her slight frame, and looked down as she craned her head up to meet my gaze.
“That blood,” I said, pointing to her hand, “I spilled for you. From someone who deserved it. Someone who works for Marco.”
She didn’t speak. But she didn’t back away either, so I continued.
“I’ll keep spilling blood, Lena. I’ll keep carving through his men until I get to him. And when I do, he’ll pay for the scars on your back. Marco will pay for hurting you. I’ll make sure he suffers."
I fell silent.
The room seemed to shrink around us, every sound fading until there was nothing but the hum of our heartbeats. She stared up at me, dubious brown eyes searching my face as if she were weighing the truth of my words.
As she watched me, I didn’t soften my emotion. I let her see all of it.The rage. The conviction. The inevitability.
Finally I asked, "Do you want that from me?"
For a long moment, neither of us breathed.
Then something in her expression shifted. Fear didn’tvanish, but it loosened its grip, giving way to something else. Her shoulders lowered just a fraction. Her chin lifted, barely.
And she nodded.
Lena wanted Marco to pay for what he’d done to her.
But what she didn’t know yet, was that he had far more to answer for than her suffering alone.
“If that’s what you want from me, I’ll give it to you, little mute,”I said, my voice filled with promise.
She held my gaze for a few moments longer, continuing to weigh the truth of my words, then turned and retreated to her bed, soft feet padding across the floor. I took my place on the ground again, leaning against the wall, and watched her. At first she tracked me like usual, eyes locked and alert, but then they grew heavy. Soon she drifted off to sleep for the first time in my presence.
While she slept, I turned that promise over in my mind, hardening it into something unbreakable.
I would make Marco pay.
For hurting her.
And for killing our mother.
Chapter 9: Lena
Iwasn’t sure why I had touched Silas last night. Physical contact still sent discomfort rippling through my body, an instinct I hadn’t been able to shake. And yet, I’d touched him anyway.
His volatile emotions had called to me, telling me to push past my fear, urging me to offer him comfort. Even in the dark, unable to see his expression, I’d felt his unrest. Silas' anger was still there, raw and constant, but beneath it was something more fragile, something fractured, and something that mirrored parts of myself.
So I moved toward him, forcing my feet closer, offering the only comfort I could manage. A brief touch for barely a moment. Still, his eyes went wide, surprise flashing, before I pulled away.
