I open and close my mouth, the words trapped against my tongue. They’re lost, frozen in an ice tomb from which they cannot escape. Or maybe I don’t want them to escape. If they did, I would shatter like tiny pieces of glass all over the floor.
“You are Kyanite. It’s impossible for you to understand.” Bitterness hangs from his words.
“No.” I wave my hands wildly, needing him to hear me. “You don’t get to claim your pain, as if you are the only one who suffers. I live in the same world. I see the same loss, experience the same pain, and I don’t want to rule anything.”
He buries his hands in his weapon belt, gripping it tightly, and shakes his head.
I let the silence stretch for a while before I turn away from him, facing the window. “Give me a moment.”
“Why?”
“I want to gather myself and my things.”
Tension stretches between us again before his footsteps echo against the floor, and the door shuts behind him. I let out a sigh, needing to think, to calm down.
Instead, I lift my fingers to my lips, feeling the heat of his mouth against mine, that promise of so much more, that mending of our bond.
It was enough for now. Enough to chase my darkness into the shadows. Enough to ease some of the tension hammering in my chest.
Soon, I’ll ask for more.
I will have no choice.
ChapterSix
As soon as I sink into a chair, a knock echoes against my door.
So soon?
A sigh escapes me as I cross the tiny room, rip open the door, and speak. “I thought you said you would give me a few moments?”
My eyes widen as I take in Kahlia standing before me and not Hector. She arranged her light brown hair in a knot at the back of her head, and she wears a clean surcoat. Bruises still mar her skin, and her eyes are swollen, yet light shines there instead of horror like last night.
The fading sunlight strains through the open window and dances off the silver hoops in her ears and on her nose. Calcites always wear a lot of silver jewelry.
“I’m happy to see you have shed your old woman’s disguise again.” Loose brown strands brush against her shoulders as she glances to the side. “Did you know there are three Bloodstone warriors outside?” She leans closer and drops her voice. “They’re fierce looking.”
“Yes. But they won’t bother you. I promise.”
Her shoulders relax as she steps closer. “I had to convince them I was bringing you food.” The moment Kahlia finishes speaking, she thrusts the basket against my chest. I take it and inhale the aroma of freshly baked bread. My stomach rumbles in response, reminding me that I haven’t eaten in several days.
“Thank you.” I step aside, inviting her in.
Kahlia enters and takes a seat on the bed. I set the basket down on the table, my hands shaking in anticipation as I remove the cloth covering the food. My eyes widen at the chunks of aged cheese, a loaf of wheat bread, fruit, and lastly, a folded sheet of parchment.
“Where did you get all of this?” I break off a piece of bread and eat it slowly.
“A friend of yours told me to give it to you.” Torchlight skims Kahlia’s jaw as she nods at the parchment. “Read the letter after I leave. It will explain everything.”
“All right.” Maybe someone has taken pity on me. I tear off more bread and offer it to Kahlia.
The silver beads in her hair make a soft clinking sound as she shakes her head. “I cannot stay. I want to be home before it gets too late.”
I nod and shove the piece of bread into my mouth.
Kahlia moves toward the door and pauses. “Thank you for your kindness yesterday.”
“Of course,” I say as I think about the cost of avenging Kahlia. It heightened my darkness, and it led me to violence—a path my Bloodstone magic seems keen on leading me to over and over again.
