I gathered my own gear in silence. My body ached from the fight, muscles protesting the violent awakening. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the hollow feeling in my chest.
She'd protected me. Put herself between me and danger without hesitation. Fought like a demon to keep me safe while I struggled to shake off sleep.
And now she wouldn't even look at me.
I didn't understand human customs. Didn't know what she needed from me, what I was failing to provide. Among my people, the bond would be enough. The certainty of belonging to each other would smooth over any rough edges.
But we weren't among my people.
We were in a canyon full of corpses, covered in blood that wasn't ours, heading toward unknown danger with broken weapons and unspoken words between us.
And I had no idea how to bridge the distance she kept creating.
12
LEXA
Nyx appeared beside me,silent as death despite his size. I was staring at the firebird corpses littering the canyon floor, counting them for the third time like the number would change if I just tried hard enough.
We'd killed seven of the bastards.
"Are you injured?" His voice was careful, measured. The tone you used when approaching something that might bite.
"What?”
“Are you hurt?” he asked it slower this time.
My body ached, still not fully recovered from my first run in with these monsters, but I was pretty sure there were nothing but a few scrapes and bruises. “I’m fine.”
"Let me check your wounds. The bandages might have …"
"I said I'm fine." The words came out sharp. I didn't look at him, couldn't, because if I did, I might fall apart, and I couldn't afford that right now.
My hand dropped to my belt and found the broken knife hilt where I'd shoved it. The leather was still warm from my palm, shaped by years of grip and use and reliance. Eight years. Through basic training, where I'd been the only woman in myunit. Through deployments to places that made Volcaryth look friendly. And now …
Gone.
Snapped like it was nothing. Like those eight years meant nothing. Like every scar on that blade, every nick and scratch that told a story, was just metal waiting to break.
Rage surged through me. Hot and irrational and overwhelming. I yanked the broken hilt from my belt and hurled it at the canyon wall with everything I had.
The impact was satisfying. Metal struck stone with a sharp crack, the sound echoing off the walls. The hilt clattered to the ground, rolled, came to rest against a dead firebird's wing.
Useless. Broken. Discarded.
I wanted to scream. Wanted to punch something until my knuckles split. Wanted to go back in time and tell myself not to get attached to anything because this planet would take it all eventually.
"Lexa." Nyx's voice was soft. Too understanding.
"Let's just get the fuck out of here."
I grabbed my pack, shoved my arms through the straps with enough force to make my ribs protest. The pain was good. Satisfying. Something to focus on that wasn't the hollow feeling in my chest.
Nyx didn't argue. Just gathered his own gear in silence. When he was ready, he approached slowly, giving me time to refuse.
Like I could. I needed his wings to get where we were going, and standing here drowning in my own anger wouldn't find Larissa or the others.
His arms came around me. Gently. Like I was something that might shatter if handled wrong.
