“Nothing,” I mumbled, hoping that speaking the words aloud would solidify the thought.
My lips parted as a long, drawn-out sigh slipped out; my heart was galloping and racing so fast that it suffocated out all other sounds.
The dining room offered no escape; I scanned the walls, but the only visible openings were the doors leading into each of the other rooms. My assumption was correct. The only way out was through veyrithing.
When we reached my room, the soft mattress of the bed cushioned my weary body as I collapsed onto it, a defeated sigh escaping my lips. I stayed awake the entire night, observing the sky shift from the deepest dark to the first light of day.
There was only a small collection of things I experienced in this life and scarcely any of them satisfied me at a fundamental level. Perhaps if my position on the social ladder was different, the list might be greater—but since that was not the case, it came down to only three.
Books, running, and food—in no particular order, though foodmight just be at the top of that short list. It was possible, of course, that the order of their importance was due to the fact that while reading and jogging were accessible for me daily, a good meal wasn’t. And so, with abundant reasons to hate my time spent among the gods, their food made it—somehow—tolerable.
Void of any shame, I ate seven pomegranates as my appetizer and then devoured six pork ribs and a portion of oven-roasted potatoes with caramelized onions. It was unquestionably the best meal of my life. Sure, it lacked significance, considering I wasn’t one with much culinary experience but the only thing I could compare the feast with was the water soup with grown carrots from our garden.
“Do you want my portion as well?” Theo said after he had been awfully quiet the entire time. His cheeks flared beneath his round glasses, as if he was almost ashamed of the question that rolled past his tongue.
I paused, and only then did I become aware of the discomfort—my stomach heavy as if full of stones. I placed the fork down, deciding I’d had enough, even though questions lingered in the back of my mind. What if this was my last day alive? Was I not deserving of a good meal? What if I never got another chance to eat something as delicious as this?
I shoved the irritating thoughts from my mind. Negative thoughts attracted negative outcomes.
“How’s your nose? I thought h-he broke it.”
Remembering what 226688 told me, I replied: “Thankfully he did not. It’s sore, but I think it will pass in a couple of days.”
“That’s good,” he answered as the conversation picked up around us. “Zachary thinks he’s going to come after you during the trials.”
I frowned. “Who?”
With a friendly grin, Theo started rattling off the names, his finger moving to indicate each person. A grimace touched his features as he gestured toward the people eating breakfast at Draven’s table ahead of us: Hunter, Riley (the woman with the blue hair), and the short-haired woman whose name he had yet to learn.
Beside me sat Verena, the woman I’d seen talking to herself the other day, along with Georgie, Yvonne, and the twins—Zachary and Nicolas.
“So,” Zachary began, wiping the corner of his lips with his wrist as he chewed on the last bit of food inside his mouth. “Since this might prove to be the last day of our lives—for some—I have a suggestion.”
His twin, Nicolas, buried a hand in his silver hair and shook his head. Zachary huffed at his sibling.
They looked as if winter had a human form—hair, brows, and eyes all white, skin pale as morning frost. Yet, their expressions carried the warmth of spring pushing through snow.
Zachary continued. “Why don’t we tell each other about our lives back at home and what we were doing before all of this? Who we were?”
Yvonne’s tattooed arm tightened across her girlfriend’s shoulders. “What’s the point? Like you said, we might die tomorrow for all we know.”
“You have a point, but I’d like to remember all of you as more than just some faces that had names.” He passed an expectantglance around the group, looking for someone who agreed. Zachary cleared his throat. “All right, I’ll go first.”
“Here he goes,” was all Nicolas said in a whisper.
“Long story short, we were the result of an affair our mother had, and when her husband found out, he kicked us out. Luckily, our father took us into his massive house and gave us a room, but that didn’t mean he was fond of us. And I don’t know if it runs in the family or not,” he said as he forced a laugh. “But I left my homeschooling teacher pregnant.”
“Andshe has a husband. Don’t leave that part out, you moron.” Nicolas gave him a flick on the forehead.
“He was presumed to bedead. How could I have known he was alive, when even his wife didn’t know?” He pursed his lips, his tone lacking its previous amusement. “Anyway, he showed up at my door one day, punched me in the face, gave me a big fat bruise and told me to leave his wife alone.”
“Did you? Leave her alone?” Georgie, Yvonne’s girlfriend, asked, her voice small.
Zachary’s jaw twitched. He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I loved her,” he confessed, his fists tightening on the table.
“What happened?” Theo said from beside me.
“I wanted to be with her and with my child—even though God knew I wasn’t ready for a kid. I was eighteen back then. But she eventually filed a restraining order and fled the country. I have no idea where they are.”
