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Bryn finally found the mental fortitude to pull herself from the shock of her aunt’s abrupt appearance and ripped her arm away. Running her hand over the sore area, her fingers came away with quite a bit of blood.Oh boy, she thought as the nausea rose.
“—why is Arioch saying you are speaking to crows? Why are youstillhanging around that sinful brothel during the day with that demon woman after I forbade it? Explain why my son was seen there as well!” Mallory yelled, her face mottled in rage as she moved in far too close to Bryn’s face.
Mallory’s clawed hand reached out to grab her arm again, her nails digging in. If Bryn tore her arm away this time, she’d have bloody claw marks, which would be more difficult to hide.
“You know better than to embarrass me with the company you keep. I am to be the wife of one of the most powerful men here, and choosing to make me an enemy is not in your best interest.” Mallory’s hot breath against her cheek did nothing to quell the chills running over Bryn’s skin.
A seed of rebellion pulsed through her before it was lost again to the anxiety and fear Bryn felt when in the woman’s presence. Even though she was an adult woman herself now, the memories of her childhood were far too close to the surface when her aunt was around to be able to push them back down so easily.
Mallory shook her as Bryn tried to form coherent enough thoughts to answer the raging woman.
Trying to pull her arm back without losing more skin, Bryn was stuck in a time when she was a younger version of herself, grieving her father and finding her tears were met with slaps to the face for crying.
She could never be adult Bryn in these situations, always reverting back to the time when she was helpless, and she was sure she would, just like before, cover the bruises and play it off when her friends asked.
“I was helping him with someone—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Mallory yelled, her face so close that spittle hit Bryn’s cheek. Shoving Bryn hard enough that she hit her back against the door, Bryn slid down it, thinking about rolling away.
As Mallory stood over her, memories of being kicked in the ribs and stomach overtook Bryn. Curling up into a ball, she covered her head and felt every ounce of bravery drain from her.
“I’ve allowed you to stay under this roof for the sake of my husband’s brother. Now, your father is dead, and I owe himnothing.”
Placing her hands on the ground to push up, Bryn bit her lip when Mallory stepped on her fingers, pushing down with her heels. A crack sounded, but Bryn wasn’t dumb enough to cry out.
Mallory loved it when Bryn cried out, and it always made the torture last that much longer.
“Witches can be burned, dear Bryn. Remember that,” Mallory warned before twisting her foot on Bryn’s fingers.
Whipping open the door to hit Bryn in the shoulder, Mallory gave her one last kick before she walked out and slammed the door shut behind her.
Sitting up when all she wanted to do was collapse, Bryn sat back against the door, the tears in her eyes from both the physical pain and relief that it was over. Pulling her hand to her chest, she closed her eyes and worked to steady her rapid breathing.
“Why do you allow her to touch you in such a way?”
A laugh bubbled up in her throat as the tears trailed down her face.
Of course, Kian was watching that all happen. Probably enjoyed his killer getting her comeuppance.
“I’ve spent years trying tonotlet her touch me that way.”
Judgmental prick of a shadow.
“With your powers back, your hand should be healed now,”he whispered, and she wanted to lash out at him with her own brand of fury, angry that he had seen her at her lowest.
Looking at her fingers, flexing them, she realized they were in fact fine. Then, running her hand along her arm where the flesh had torn, she noted that the skin was smooth and unblemished.
Only her emotional wounds were still festering.
Laying her head back against the door, she attempted to ignore the shadow.
Bryn needed time to come back to herself after Mallory did things like that. While it wasn’t the worst she’d done to Bryn, it never got easier to bounce back from.
Focus on breathing, Bryn.
In... out... in... out...
“Hard to believe someone like you killed someone like me.”
