I stare at him for a moment. “Am I supposed to know what any of that means?” I finally ask when my brain doesn’t catch what he’s throwing at all. Nope, I fumble that shit like my name is butterfingers, because I am not receiving anything he’s sending my way.
“We told you last time that we didn’t need your help. We also told you what would happen if you ever showed up again,” Zeph growls and takes a threatening step toward Wekun.
He just chuckles like he’s not about to face down the big scary asshole Syta of the Hidden and then tsks when Ryn also moves to join Zeph against him.
“No appreciation ever from the mates,” Wekun sighs, exasperated.
I scramble to my feet and intercept the ungrateful mates Pigeon has stuck me with. “Are you guys kidding? This guy shows up and saves our asses not once, but twice, and your response isn’t to thank him, but to threaten him?” I demand.
“You can’t trust anything the Ouphe say; they always have ulterior motives and schemes going on,” Zeph defends.
I dismiss the sting I feel from that comment. I don’t know why I’m shocked to hear it. I’m part Ouphe, and Zeph has always been clear in how he feels about me because of it. I know his and Ryn’s prejudices run deep. Being irritated with their current reaction of judging Wekun based off of what he is instead of the fact that he’s helped us is probably a waste of my time, but I can’t help it.
“Are you both forgetting that we’re trying to get to the Ouphe so that we can ask them for help?” I remind them, as though somehow the predicament that we’re all in just slipped their minds.
“No,youare going to the Ouphe to ask for help.Weare just making sure you aren’t used against us,” Zeph clips.
I stare at him blankly for a moment. Did he really just say that to me? I know I heard the words, but my heart and mind don’t seem to want to let them take root. During my time in Kestrel City, I saw peeks of Zeph that showed me parts of him that were so much more than the angry, vicious, knife-tongued male who’s staring down at me right now. I’ve tried to understand where his vitriol comes from. Empathized with him and hated the awful things he’d experienced that shaped him into who he is today.
But right now as he stares down at me with taunting, hate-filled, honey eyes, I can’t for the life of me remember why I’ve ever bothered to give him the benefit of the doubt. Hurt and anger unfurl in my chest and slowly claim everything that I am.
I look at Ryn as I try to breathe through the swell of emotion, but he says nothing to counter the words that just slipped out of Zeph’s mouth. I shake my head; of course he’d stand up for his Syta over me. He always just goes along with what he’s told, such a good little puppy.
I’m an idiot wasting my time with these fools.
“Falon,” Wekun speaks up, his face filled with pity and concern.
“Don’t you speak to her. You’re not going to taint her mind, we won’t allow it,” Zeph snaps at Wekun, and Ryn puts a hand up to keep Zeph from moving any closer, nodding silently at me and where I’m standing in proximity to Wekun.
I look over at Treno, too disgusted by Zeph and Ryn to stare at them for a second longer. He’s quiet and still, lying on the ground, but the color is back in his face, and I can see that he’s alive and breathing. His eyes are far away and filled with pain, and my throat grows tight as I take him in.
“Treno, are you okay?” I ask, moving closer to him, the drive to comfort him overtaking the logic that he probably doesn’t want me near him.
My voice seems to snap him out of whatever he’s thinking about, and his eyes fill with anger and fix on me. “Lazza just tried to kill me,” he snaps out, and even though he doesn’t saybecause of youwith his words, his eyes flash exactly that for the briefest of moments.
I stop my advance and realize that Wekun is still by my side. More hurt pings through my battered body like I’m a pinball machine. He wants to blame me instead of blaming his brother for being a prick?
I study him on the ground and feel myself hardening inside. It’s as though their hate and mistrust were the water my insides needed to start churning everything I am into concrete. And now, with each glare and nasty word, the cement in my soul is slowly hardening until there’s nothing left but stone.
I can take responsibility for connecting Treno to Zeph and Ryn without their knowledge. I didn’t know either; however, that little fact doesn’t seem to matter to anyone. I’m just some Ouphe-tainted who clearly can’t be trusted. But I’m not going to just sit here and get blamed for the actions of a psycho, because it’s convenient to aim all the anger at me. I’m not going to let their hate infect me, or stand for the unspoken accusation that somehow I would do something to hurt the Gryphons instead of try to protect them.
I’ve hit my limit. I’m over these fuckers.
I check in with Pigeon, and she’s just as disgusted with their behavior. She wraps a warm wing around me and flips them a taloned bird.
“I’ve tried to take the high road,” I start, looking at Zeph, Ryn and Treno in turn. “I’ve tapped into my empathy. I’ve done my best to put myself in your shoes, to understand how hard this situation is for all of you. But have you assholes even tried to do that for me? Nope. Not for one fucking second.
“You all think it’s okay to just dump your anger and pain all over me. You think that for whatever reason, I have to just take the bullshit. That I’m stuck with you and that’s all there is to it. You want to think the worst of me, have fun. You want to blame me for your problems and pretend like your dicks didn’t help to put you in this situation, go for it. Rewrite history all you want. Do what you need to do to cradle your fragile egos and stroke your weak manhoods. But you can do it without me.”
I look over at Wekun, rage simmering in my gut. “You want to help me?” I ask, revisiting what he said earlier.
“I do.”
“Then get me as far away from these pricks as you can, please,” I tell him, hating the crack of emotion that ripples through my words. I blink back the tears I feel in my eyes and rip the cracks inside of me open so that all my fury can flood out and staunch the wounds these three have gouged into my soul.
Wekun gives me a sad smile.
“Gladly,” he agrees, and then he reaches for my palm.
