I rode up the path and parked my bike at the top.
She was here. I refused to examine the feeling that washed over me when I saw her bike.
I found her lying on the grass, her eyes closed. I knew she was awake when I stood over her head, blocking the sun, and she opened her eyes.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
Chapter Eleven
Kytten
TRIGGER WARNING:This chapter contains a graphic representation of self-harm and cutting. If you suffer from any triggers, PLEASE, PLEASE, take extreme caution before reading this chapter. Your mental health is more important to me than my fictional story.
I opened my eyes and looked up into his. He was angry, and I didn’t know why. The words refused to escape as I stared at him.
“Where the fuck have you been, Rose?”
“Why do you care?” I asked, getting up from the ground. “You don’t know me.”
I tried to walk away, but he grabbed my arm. My core tightened, but my first instinct wasn’t to defend myself. It was to surrender.
And it pissed me off.
I wrenched my arm away and glared at him. The monsters stirred, but didn’t wake up.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he turned away from me and ran a hand through his hair.
I knew I should leave. I should run. I’d already given him my first name. No one used my first name. It was only for Thorne. Val gave me the name Kytten and had used it ever since.
No one in the Nyght Nymphs went by their real names. It was for our safety, as well as the women and children we helped.
But he said my name.
“What is your name?” I called out. It was only fair that if he had my name, I should have his.
“Cash.”
“Not your road name. Your real name.”
He looked at me over his shoulder. His smile felt awkward. Like he wasn’t used to doing it. “Cash is my real name.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course it is,” I mumbled. He was sexy, and he had a cool name. My name was bland and overused. It only sounded cool because of Thorne.
Thorne and Rose.
He was older by twenty minutes. Born first, Thorne came out screaming and kicking his feet. She said he was born to fight. Our mother used to tell us that he would be the thorns that protected the rose.
She’d always told him that because I was smaller than him, and more fragile, he had to protect me. For a while, he did.
Until someone cut away the thorns. That left me unprotected until Valhalla found me.
In Norse mythology, Valhalla was a hall for slain warriors. A place to feast and strengthen until they joined Odin for Ragnarök.
That’s what Val was for the Nyght Nymphs, a place to feast and strengthen for the battles we fought for women and children who couldn’t fight for themselves.
A part of me died when I lost my brother. But I wasn’t a slain warrior. Val made me into a warrior. She taught me to fight. She taught me to protect myself and anyone else that needed to be protected.
“You have a problem with my name?”
