He sighs, tapping the side of his head repeatedly against the glass. “What’s funny?”
“Mmm. Well… I never would have pegged you to be someone capable of disloyalty or deceit. I’d have pegged you to be a few other things, but those two never made the list.”
His eyes snap back over his shoulder, and he scrambles off the sill. “Dis..loyal?” Ezra asks, breathless, the disbelief plain on his face. “That is rich coming from you.”
I shrug, curious to see how far I can take things before he loses his composure – judging by that vein in his temple pulsing? He’s already close to the edge.
“Mmhmm.” I hum, and the muscle in his jaw joins the vein in his temple.
“I have only ever been — and continue to be still — completely loyal to you and to Obsidian.” He grits out.
My eye twitches at the mention ofourmyhome, and my nails dig into my palm. “Loyal individuals trust their sovereigns. And these?” I bring my wrists up a second time, jingling them more obnoxiously. “Not exactly a sign of trust, is it, Ez?”
“That depends on how you view it. You can trust me to keep you safe. But I can’t trust you to keep yourself safe right now. Those–” he points, “are for your protection.” It’s obvious by the set lines in his face how many times he’s had to have this conversation alone to convince himself of the words.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” I muse, flopping back onto the bed, he sulks back over to his corner.
I watch as his eyes close, breaths slow, and the tension melts from his muscles – sleep finding him easily.
Get those restful nights in now, dear Ezra. They are coming to a close.
Our routine is getting monotonous. Although I won’t complain about the bed versus carriage trunk trade-off.
Ezra leaves for most of the day, doing gods know what, only occasionally dragging me with him and only when I am heavily under the influence of his Wield. Sometimes, though, when he doesn’t take me out on the town – I get to switch my bedridden state for the lovely pastime of staring aimlessly out the window.
Today, my imagination has been especially active as I envision the various ways Ezra’s body could break if I was only able to shove himoutof it.
That image became more enticing once he returned – more agitated than usual.
“Oh dear, bad day?” I ask, sarcasm dripping off every word. He doesn’t engage, keeping his eyes trained on the ground as he paces, muttering an incoherent argument to himself. “You know, I realized something in all of my downtime today–” I pause, waiting for his icy blue eyes to reluctantly lift to mine. When they do, I force out a smile, “do you want to hear it? What I realized?”
“You’re going to tell me anyway.”
My lips flatten. “Don’t be snippy,” I warn, blowing hot breath on the glass, fogging the pane. “I think that your little system to keep me at bay is deteriorating.” My finger drags through the opaque spot I’ve made while I wait for him to answer.
F U C K – Y O U
A smirk crosses my face as I admire my handiwork and blow another breath against it, so that Ezra can read it clearly. His disapproving grunt hits my ears, and I bring my gaze back to him, a deep scowl resting on his face. “Nice.”
I shrug. “You didn’t answer my question,” I say, bringing the point back to center.
“Because I don’t know.” He snaps.
“Oh – ha – I’m sorry, I thought you’d have figured out these things being the kidnapper in this situation.”
Ezra’s eyes snap up at me, his cheeks turning red. “It’s not like I fucking planned this long-term, E. You were in danger, I saw an opportunity, and I took it.”
“And soagain,”I start, sliding off the windowsill. I make it a few steps before my left leg is jerked back. My chin cracks down, remembering the iron manacle binding my ankle to the heavy side table. Anger heats my face, my neck swiveling to look him in the face, “that ‘opportunity’ requires these? It requires the acrid tonics you force down my throat?” He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and an incredulous laugh escapes my chest. “I actually haven’t seen one of those all day. Don’t tell me you’re having a hard time keeping them around. Their incredibly effective.”
The expression darkening his face tells me that there’s truth to what I’ve suggested.
And for the first time inweeks,I feel… hopeful. Because if he can’t keep pouring those suppressants into me, then these shackles only have a matter of time before my Wield cracks right fucking through them.
I stare at the forked pathways, seated on the cold ground.
Since realizing Ezra’s plan will have an expiration date, the pull towards my path of self-destruction doesn’t feel as urgent or inviting.
In fact, I feel…alive.Last night was the first night he didn’t have a tonic to shove down my throat, and I could have sworn I felt a tingling along my skin.
