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“Kasha…” His presence loomed behind me, his towering body only inches away. “Please, tell me how I can help you.”
“I don’t want your help.” I gripped the hilt tighter as I raised my hand to throw. Yet my arm just stayed there, fingers gripping the weapon like it was grounding me to reality.
“Why not?” The low rumble of his husky voice sent shivers up my spine.
“Did you ever think that I’ll be fine?” My nerves prickled from the unknown of his movements behind me. “I’ve had to deal with this for a long time now, and I’ve been able to make myself feel better after a while. I don’tneedyou.”
Everything I said was the truth, even if I left out the Goddess-awful details about how long it truly took before I felt a semblance of calm again after a panic attack. How the next few days would be spent with irritable, nightmarish sleep, dark thoughts, and such jittery, sensitive nerves that any light touch to my skin could set me off. It was a burden I had been dealing with for a long time; I could take care of myself.
I didn’t need him.
I turned around slowly, ready to kick him out of the room. He stared down with those swirling green eyes, like a forest ignited by the summertime heat. I made the disastrous mistake of taking a deep breath, his intoxicating cinnamon citrus scent enveloping me the second I did. His eyes trailed over my face, taking in every inch of me, my spine stiffening at the scrutiny. Whatever he thought he was looking for, I didn’t like it; yet I still just stood there silently, letting him take in his fill.
He leaned forward, bringing his face closer to mine, penetrating my personal space, my breath hitching at his nearness. A part of me wondered what he was doing, that intense gaze so powerful it had me frozen. He stared and stared and stared to the point where I wondered if he would do anything else.
Then he shoved me backward. Hard.
My feet stumbled, barely able to catch me so I didn’t fall right on my ass.
“What in the Goddess?” I screeched, my muscles tensing as I glared up at him.
“You don’t need anything, huh?” He strode toward me like an animal stalking its prey, my instincts pulling me to take a few steps back. “Holding in the anger isn’t going to help you! It won’t make things better.”
My chest tightened, fingers curling into fists at my sides. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Maybe not with what you went through, but I know what pent-up anger looks like.” He rushed forward, throwing a punch aimed at my face. I dodged it effortlessly, putting a few more feet between us, his steps falling back into pace. “I know what it feels like, and you need to let it out or it’ll drown you.”
“Nolan, stop! I’m not angry!” I yelled, hoping desperately he believed my words more than I did.
“It’s alright to hate them, Kasha!” His eyes were wild, transitioning from green to gold with each heated word he spoke. “Even your father. After everything he did to you, everything he’s put you through, it’s alright to be so angry at him that you hate him.”
A chill swept over me, even with the sheen of sweat trickling along my hairline, my fingertips numbing. No one had ever said that to me before. “I don’t. I can’t.”
“Then hateme!” he yelled, slapping his hand against his chest twice. “I know you do, and it’s okay to. I took the job owed to you. I took your Faction and title.”
“Stop it.” My voice was low, rumbling from my chest, something hot and dark brewing inside me, rising closer to the surface. I needed to rein it in, push it back down into the depths of my mind.
“Fine. If you won’t fight for it, then maybeIdeserve this job.” His words were venomous, slicing into me as roughly as his Amalgam Blade would. “I won’t apologize for taking it from you. This is my Faction now, not yours.”
The howl that ripped from my throat thundered off the walls as I charged him, my tightened fist swinging in an arch before colliding with his jaw. The impact didn’t budge him, his head whipping slightly to the left before he turned back to me.
He could have dodged that easily, but he didn’t. He took it…he took my anger.
I choked on air, stunned by the violence I let slip from its cage. I took a step back, my eyes darting toward the door, desperate for escape.
“Don’t run away.” He grabbed my arm, forcing me toward him, locking my arm behind my back.
“Let me go,” I begged, struggling to loosen his grip. I needed to get away from his berating attempt to uncap my ire. It was seeping out, and if I stayed here even a moment longer, it would escape from me, a tornado of pent-up rage I wouldn’t be able to control once I let it go.
“Show me how much you hate me.” The words rumbled from his chest, his body pressed against my back, my locked arm the only thing dividing us. “Show me.”
That was all it took, those final words. That was all I needed to accept the dark thoughts I had hidden for too long. I unlocked them from the back of my mind and let them free.
I leaned forward, kicking out behind me, my heel crashing against his knee, tilting him off balance enough for me to jab him in the stomach with my free arm, pulling away from his grip. I whipped myself around to face him, my legs hip-width apart, arms already up in a defensive position ready to attack, his stance matching mine. He was ready for me.
Or so he thought.
I snarled, attacking with abandon, letting my movements flow free, my fighting instincts taking over. I didn’t think, I didn’t analyze, all I could do was fight. I aimed for his face once again, my punch landing against his jaw, a trickle of blood now seeping from his lips. But unlike last time, he didn’t just take it, he fought back, forcing my feet to move, my body to react. We threw jabs and blocked punches, my mind focusing on only him and what he was doing for me at that very moment. In his own special way, he was giving me a gift…and instead of thinking too hard about the repercussions of it all, I accepted it.
