She felt a pang at his name and shoved the thought aside.
Dubiously, she pulled off her clothes and started applying the salve. A moan escaped her lips as her pain eased almost instantly. The relief was so heady that a laugh escaped her, sounding maniacal even to her own ears.
She pressed her lips together, the laugh having freaked her out a little, but she couldn’t stop the moans from bubbling out of her as she rubbed the salve into every tender spot she could find.
When she was finished, she eyed the pink poultice suspiciously. What was in that stuff, and how could a Peregrinian afford to just give away medicine as powerful as that?
Aelia placed what was left of it back on the worktop, the dagger catching her attention once more.
She thought she’d lost it, hoped someone in the village would be honest enough to return it once she put some feelers out, but here it was, sparkling clean.
Yesterday, she’d killed a man with it. She didn’t know if she should be worried that she felt nothing as she churned over the memory, nothing except a grim sense of satisfaction. Even if she dug deep, she felt no remorse, no guilt, no shame. If anything, she regretted not having been able to kill more of the bastards before they’d kicked the living shit out of her, murdered one friend and captured another.
No, she certainly didn’t feel any guilt.
What she did feel, was hungry. She opened the cupboard with the plates in, and her eyes narrowed, teeth grinding together as she pulled out a dish already prepared and waiting for her. What was this guy’s deal?
Fruit and dried meat, a few boiled eggs and a thick slice of buttered bread were piled high on the plate. Not an extravagant meal by any means, but the best one could do with what was in their stores.
Her stores, she corrected, her breath leaving her with a choked sob.
Too hungry, and far too frugal, to throw the food away out of principle, she carried it to the window. Opening it, she winced as she climbed onto the worktop, ducking out of the window with practised movement to perch on the thick branch just outside. Aelia stretched up to push the plate onto the roof before swinging herself up next to it with a pained groan.
She sat gasping for a moment, waiting for the pain to subside, before she positioned herself in her usual spot, legs dangling over the edge of the roof.
Callodosis at night was her favourite view in the whole forest. Even as low as she was feeling, her grief felt slightly easier to bear at the sight of it.
The light from candles, lanterns, and fires spilled out of the arched windows of the treehouses around her, casting the intricate wooden structures in a cosy light. Each building was a feat of engineering, simple yet beautiful, merging with nature seamlessly. Aelia picked at her food as she looked out over her home, knowing life would never again be the same.
She’d never see Mirra again, never get to talk to Otis again. Which was just as infuriating as it was heartbreaking, because what the hell had he meant when he’d told her to cross the sea to the war-torn continent to the West? Not once had he shown any interest in them travelling anywhere together, nor mentioned any contacts he had outside of Callodosis, let alone Demuto, yet now he wanted her to track down some family on the other side of the world? It made no sense, and her brain revolted at the prospect.
The forest floor was dark, the wooden houses at ground level cold and abandoned, the humans they belonged to never coming back. She chewed slowly, eyes stuck on the empty darkness beneath her.
Her jaw froze mid-mouthful when she saw a shadow pacing purposefully up the path to her tree. It was dark, and the figure was way below her, but she knew with absolute certainty it was him.
Fighting the urge to lob the plate at his head, she watched him stride up the path as if he owned the damned thing. Was he going to come up, uninvited and unannounced, on the day she’d buried her family, right after she’d screamed at him to leave her alone? The audacity of the man, the arrogance. She swallowed the food in her mouth, suddenly resenting every morsel.
He’d followed her into the woods, admittedly saving her from an arse kicking, but what the hell had he been doing there in the first place? And although she was grateful for not having been pounded into by a bunch of thugs twice in one night, she would havereallyloved to land a few punches of her own, broken a nose or two maybe.
She could forgive him for taking that away from her though, she wasn’t stupid. No way could she have taken on all of them without coming off seriously worse for wear. But what she couldn’t forgive, what had her blood boiling to the point of bubbling over, was that he’d stopped her from going to Otis when he’d needed her most.
If she’d just made it there a few moments earlier, could she have stopped Beserkir? Could she have saved Otis? She would never know; that man had stolen her opportunity to try.
As if she’d broadcast her thoughts to the ground, the man slowed to a stop. His head tilted backwards to take in the treehouse she was perched on. Aelia fought the urge to scurry back onto the roof, knowing that movement would more thanlikely draw his attention. If she was still, she highly doubted he would spot her.
He stood there watching for what felt like an age, and she almost wished she could hear his thoughts, could get a glimpse of the indecision that had stopped him in his tracks. He was too far away for her to see his features, and she could do nothing but stare silently back at him, hoping against hope that he’d turn and walk away. The last thing she needed was another argument, and if he dared to knock on her front door, an argument was exactly what he was going to get. Big, brutish stranger or not, she had more than enough anger directed his way to overlook the possible foolishness of antagonising him.
Fortunately, he chose that moment to turn and walk away, his pace slower than before. Aelia frowned at the rush of disappointment that came over her as she watched his back recede into the night. Did shewantan argument? Did shewantthe opportunity to explain to him in great detail how inappropriate it was for a complete stranger to mooch about her house, cleaning her things and rifling through her cupboards, as if he had some right to meddle in her life?
Her frown deepened as a suspicion bloomed, and she twisted round to where the water tank was hidden. Heaving herself to her feet, she couldn’t help but check.
Sure enough, the filter was gleaming. Which it absolutely fucking should not have been, seeing as she hadn’t cleaned it since last winter, and Otis sure as hell couldn’t get up here.
She had half a mind to chase after him and tell him exactly where he could stick his help. She wasn’t some weak, useless creature incapable of looking after herself. She’d kept this roof over hers and Otis’s head since she was sixteen, despite the whole of Callodosis looking down on her for not being able to Shift, despite them making her life harder at every fuckingopportunity. She had managed, on her own. Who the fuck did he think he was?
Too angry to finish eating, she threw herself back down on the roof, glaring at what was left of the food.
Rage boiled through her, erupting like lava in an explosion that once ignited, she was powerless to control. It overshadowed everything else: her fear, her grief, her pain. But it wasn’t all directed at the patronising alpha prick who’d taken it upon himself to look after the first feeble little creature he stumbled on. No, most of it was aimed at Beserkir and the extremist bullies who followed him, wreaking unchecked havoc through Demuto.
