Page 7 of Unmasked Prophecy
I stand, stretching, and pad barefoot across the cold floor toward the hallway. The entire place is quiet. It must be early. Outside, the stale stench of smoke and last night’s chaos still lingers in the air, wafting through the open window. It’s chilly, and I shiver as I quickly use the bathroom and then make the decision to shower before everyone wakes up.
Inside my room, I grab clean clothes and head for the shower. I need to scrub off the night, the dream, the way Talon looked at me—like he saw too much. How can he have only just met me, and yet he seems to have the ability to read me like a book? The way he looks into my soul sends shivers down my spine. I’m scared of the things that Talon makes me feel.
The bathroom is empty, and I sigh in relief. I flick the lock and turn on the water. It groans through the pipes before spilling hot and hard against the tile. Steam curls up the mirrors as I step out of my clothes and into the water. For a few minutes, I just stand there, letting the heat burn my skin and soothe my sore muscles. For a second, I just pretend this is normal. That I’m a normal girl, living a normal life.
Not a runaway.
Not a marked soul.
At the reminder of the life I ran from, I grab the soap and begin to scrub. Hard. Too hard. My skin stings, but I keep going. The memories mess with my brain, and I scrub as if that will wash away the guilt I am feeling. I know that this is the right thing, but knowing Lily is there and I am here is eating me alive. I know they’ll punish her for what I’m doing.
I don’t know if I can live with that.
The door opens.
I freeze, my back facing the outside, my eyes widening with horror.
“Fuck,” a deep voice mutters. “Didn’t know you were in here. Sorry.”
Talon.
My heart lurches into my throat. I spin around too fast, slipping slightly on the wet tiles, my hands instinctively flying to the wall so I don’t completely fall over. I’m not moving to protect him from seeing my naked body, no, I’m moving so he can’t see the jagged scars lining my back. The ugly, broken pieces of me.
But I’m too slow.
He sees.
Everything.
“What thefuck...” he breathes, his voice low but sharp.
Shame washes over me, stabbing me in the gut as tears well in my eyes. “Get out!” I cry, backing into the wall, trying to shield myself, even though it’s pointless now.
He doesn’t move.
His eyes are locked on mine.
“Who the fuck did that to you?”
“Get out,” I yell again, my voice shaky.
“Not until you tell me who the fuck did that to you.”
His voice is steel. Hard. Controlled.
“I said get out!” I scream.
His eyes flick with something—rage, pity, maybe even confusion or shock. I don’t want any of it. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want him to see what I allowed them to do. I don’t want him to think I’m weak for letting it happen. For staying even when I could have run.
I frantically turn the water off, shoving the shower door open quickly and lunging forward, snatching the towel off the rack and wrapping it around myself. Then I get the hell out of there,darting past him as panic rises in my chest. I hate myself for how I reacted, and yet I’m so utterly ashamed that he saw that.
I just need to get out.
I rush out the door and straight into the early morning light outside. The air bites at my wet skin, but I don’t care. I don’t want to see that look on his face a second longer. My hands tremble as I rush toward my room, praying nobody sees me like this.
“Nia?”
I freeze at the sound of Mera’s voice, laced with concern. It’s coming from behind me, and that means that not one, but two people are seeing the damage on my back today. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply, contemplating just running into my room and slamming the door.
