The hall is quiet today, which leads me to believe everyone is off training, like I was yesterday with Ziv. Damn, that giant is never far from my thoughts, but I do wonder where he is and why he hasn’t come for me today. Is he mad at me? He seemed pretty upset yesterday, but I didn’t get the impression he was mad at me.
Maybe he’s the one who’s crazy. He said something about me being his mate, after all, and there’s no way that could be true. Maybe he finally figured that out too. I’m still distracted with thoughts of the silver-haired god when I reach the corridor with the bathing rooms, but I pay attention to the wall next to the doors, looking for the telltale sign the room is occupied, but if there is one, I don’t see it. Instead of barging in this time, I knock on the heavy wood to make sure I’m heard, then I press my ear to the door to listen for a response. For good measure, I repeat the pattern again, still not hearing a reply, so I push the door open slowly and call out, “Hello, anyone in here?”
Met with silence again, I look over my shoulder once and swear I see someone’s shadow at the end of the hall, but no one approaches. Finally getting up the nerve, I head inside and find the room blessedly empty. There’s clearly a lock, and I wonder why the hell the guy from last night didn’t use it.
I drop my bundle on the stone bench near the bathing pool and peer into the crystal blue water. “Wow,” I whisper. Thewater at home was never like this. Hell, I was lucky if I wasn’t the last to use it before it had to be drained. It was so filthy, I went to the pond most of the time anyway.
I can’t get out of my clothes fast enough. When I dip my toe into the water, I almost feel guilty that I’m going to get it dirty. I sink in, all the way down to my chin, and float my arms out to my sides. The heat warms me up impossibly fast, relaxing all my muscles. I could easily tip my head back and fall fast asleep, despite only waking up a few hours ago.
I soak for a long time, ignoring the soaps on one of the ledges. It’s not until my fingers are all wrinkly that I finally decide to clean up and wash my hair. Even that is a new experience. Usually, I would pilfer some small scraps of bar soap my father and brothers wouldn’t notice had gone missing and use those to wash everything, but there are several options here, even some stuff just for hair, and I use it all. I scrub my head and every inch of my body until I’m all rosy and pink, and then I climb out, my limbs heavy and sluggish.
Steam rises off my body, and I realize for the first time I’m a little overheated, but it’s fine because the room is cool and my body is drying rapidly.
When I’m dressed, it’s like I’m wearing someone else’s skin, or maybe like I washed off too much of mine. I feel strangely vulnerable, like the dirty clothes and matted hair created a shield of some kind and now I’ve lost it.
It takes me a while to get up the nerve to leave. I’ve convinced myself there’s going to be someone out there who’s pissed that I took so long and got the water dirty, though the water still seems just as clear as it did when I got in.
There are a few people in the hall, but none of them pay me much attention as I head toward my room. I keep my head down until I notice someone familiar leaning into one of the doorways. He’s not even looking in my direction, but when my gaze liftsand I confirm it’s whom I think it is, he turns as if he can feel my attention on him. His hazy lavender eyes meet mine. There’s no defined pupil, only a brighter area where an iris usually is.
I know I’m staring at him, yet I still can’t force myself to look away. His hair is a shade of black or blue so dark, it looks black, because when the light reflects off it, I see the deep blue hues. He also has the fullest lips I’ve ever seen on a male, but there is nothing feminine about him—not even the slight pink tone coloring his cheeks and the tip of his nose could soften his features. He looks like some sort of ice king, like his blue skin would be cold and frozen to the touch. I find myself very much wanting to find out if the notion is true.
Just as I’m about to open my mouth and thank him for finding me in the woods, he turns his head to look away from me in a clear sign he’s not interested in speaking to me.
Strangely undeterred, I angle myself in his direction. I don’t make it within five feet of him before he abruptly steps back, hitting the wall behind him as if he’s terrified of me. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I don’t bite, but then I remember I kind of do, and I really liked it. My face flushes. My only hope is that I’m still red enough from my bath that he won’t notice.
“I just wanted to say thanks.” I stop moving closer, giving him the space he clearly wants. When he doesn’t tell me to get lost, I continue, “For finding me. I’m Briar. You’re Kage, right?”
His dark eyebrows dip in confusion, or maybe that’s suspicion in his gaze. “How do you know my name, creature?” His voice is low, guttural. I quell a shiver that begs to crawl up my spine. I don’t think I’ve ever been called a creature. I usually reserve that for little bugs or… Oh, I get it, that’s how he sees me.
I take a big step backward, putting even more distance between us. “I just wanted to say thanks for not leaving me to die in the dirt.” I sound defeated to my own ears, but he won’t know that. He doesn’t know me at all. I don’t give him muchtime to reply before dashing away. When I turn the corner to my corridor, I look back like an idiot. He stepped away from the wall in my absence, and his eyes are narrowed in my direction.
I shouldn’t have stopped to talk to him, especially after seeing his lack of interest, but I couldn’t help myself. I felt compelled to say something, or maybe I just wanted to be closer to him and get a better look at his beautiful skin.
Damn it.I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams. I don’t even know who I am anymore. How can I be so conflicted about all the emotions I feel when the only thing I should be focused on is surviving?
I slam the door to my room unnecessarily hard and turn the lock. I’m not leaving again until I’m forced to. Maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll forget about me altogether, because so far, I don’t see a reason for me to be here at all. I’m no special weapon, like Ziv implied. My talents lie in the lack thereof. Sure, I’m immune to magic, but that’s only ever made me a target.
Hell, he didn’t even bother to show up and tell me what’s expected of me, where I should be, or what I should be doing today, and I’m getting hungry again. I think eating more often is actually making me hungrier. It’s like my body knows there’s more food around or something.
I drop onto the bed, belatedly realizing the room feels different. It definitely feels emptynow, only making it more obvious that something was off last night, because I never felt alone, not even when I woke up this morning…or maybe my head is all screwed up because there’s an eeriness now that I didn’t feel last night, even when I didn’t feel alone.
As the hours pass without Ziv showing up, my conviction to stay in my room wanes. I’ve been trying to ignore the gnawing ache in my stomach, but without anything to distract me, it’s all I can think about…well, that and two males I have no business thinking about.
It takes me another hour to get up the nerve to leave my room. I’m pretty confident I can find the mess hall again, which will solve at least one of my problems. I poke my head out of my room, making sure the coast is clear, then silently slip out the door. The low hum of several conversations greets me long before I make it to the other side of the dorms, where the doors are just solid wood and not made of iron like some sort of holding cell.
I think about turning around and finding another route, but the thought of getting lost in this maze of a place—or worse, running into something much more dangerous than stares and whispers—keeps me heading right into the fray. I should have gotten something to eat earlier, since there was barely anyone around after my bath.
Words cut off when I turn the corner, and it’s like a cascade. Once one conversation stops, all the others follow suit. I lower my eyes and hasten my steps, but it doesn’t stop the hushed whispers that follow in my wake like a rising tide.
I stop short when a pair of embroidered boots step into my path. Instead of lifting my head, I step to the left to get around whomever it is, but they match my movement. “Hey there, newbie.” His voice is rich and filled with the confidence of someone with power. It’s a tone you learn to recognize early, especially when you don’t have power. I call it survival instincts. I feel my shoulders trying to curl in more to make myself smaller, less noticeable, even while knowing it’s impossible.
“Yeah?” I manage not to croak, but anyone could hear the difference in the tenors of our voices. His was smooth and self-assured, while mine was hesitant, which might be worse than an outright challenge, since predators pounce on weakness.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I lift my head enough to see his posture, which will tell me if he’s going to attack or if he just wants to intimidate me. “To themess. Why do you want to know?” I answer to appease him, but I also add the smallest challenge to my question so I don’t seem like too much of a pushover. It’s a delicate balance I don’t know if I’ve managed until the male slips his hands into his pockets, effectively conveying he doesn’t plan on assaulting me, at least not physically.
“It’s just the first time I’ve seen you out without your warden, or is he your bodyguard?” There’s a teasing note in his voice now. The problem is, I can’t tell if he’s making fun of me or flirting, but I’m assuming it’s the former.
