Chapter 5
Cambria
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“Why the hell didn’tshe just let us die? Why’d she come back for us knowing this was going to happen to her?” Atlas growls.
I fight my groggy brain that’s still swimming in that stage of not quite asleep, but not quite awake yet either. Hissing in a sharp breath as pain lances through my chest, I start to sit up as the reality of what a colossally stupid mistake I made settles into my bones just as deeply as my new marks.
“Because she may be an idiot, but she isn’t that much of a bitch,” I declare with a groan, tossing the blanket back and pulling myself up. “A bleeding heart, if you will.”
Dorian huffs out a humored breath as he comes over and offers me a hand. This time, I gladly take it to help stand. My head is absolutely swimming and I’m not sure I could stand on my own yet if I tried, but most importantly, there aren’t any other fae around to witness it.
Those bitches are fucking brutal about that stuff.
“Thanks.”
“No, we should be the ones thanking you,” he instantly replies. “Sorry we followed you, I really didn’t imagine something like this would happen,” he starts rambling and I cut him off.
“No use crying over spilled wine. What’s done is done.”
Lucien comes into view as I head towards the bathroom. “Don’t you mean over spilled milk?”
I give him a confused look. “Why the hell would you cry over milk? It’s milk. Wine on the other hand is a completely valid reason.”
Ignoring them all, I lock myself in the bathroom, relieve myself, and struggle through a shower. Once all the remaining gore is gone and I’m feeling more clear-headed, I finally hazard a look.
Both hands, now scabbed over, have identical symbols. A series of twisting lines without a beginning or an end, similar to a Celtic knot. I trace the far more painful one over my heart, still raw and tender.
Thank fuck there were only three of them. I don’t think I could have survived another.
My skin is still far too pale from all of the blood loss, but I’m standing. Alive. And I don’t have their blood on my hands, so I’m just going to chalk this one up as a wash, because it’s a far cry from a win.
Wrapping myself in a towel, I head out to my, well, not bedroom, but the one room that isn’t the bathroom, and tug some clothes from a basket. I struggle through donning my bra and a shirt before turning around to a blushing face. Dorian is trying to politely inspect the ceiling while Atlas tilts his head to check out my ass shamelessly. Lucien scowls as he comes over to tug the hem of my shirt down to cover my panties, tossing a reproachful look at Atlas. I have to fight a laugh at how ridiculous the whole thing is, but the pain lancing through my chest keeps my expression relatively sober.
“Did you bring a chastity belt with you too?” I tease, unable to stop myself.
Dorian snickers right alongside Atlas as he glares at them both. “In case you children forgot, there are people out there ready to carve into strangers and slit our throats. So maybe stop thinking with your dicks for five seconds and focus on the bigger problem.”
“Sorry, sir,” I mock salute. “I promise to quit thinking with my dick.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as he goes to sit in the chair by the table while I tug on some shorts and try to curb my sarcasm. “If all it takes is some ass to get you flustered, you’re in for a rude awakening. Fae are incredibly open, voyeuristic, and typically shameless.”
“Is that why your walk of shame was such a big deal?” Lucien asks and I narrow my eyes at him.
“Exactly.” I wince and rub at my stinging chest. “Thank you so much for reminding me.”
Atlas gestures to the refrigerator. “You don’t have any food,” he accuses. “Not even any ice.”
I roll my eyes. “Ice isn’t a necessity, nor is it food.”
He gives me a weird look, confusion obvious in his dark green gaze. “It’s free. You have a sink right here,” he points out, gesturing emphatically.
I fill up the thin metal tray and pop it in the otherwise empty freezer. “There, now you can quit your bitching. You’ll have ice in an hour or two, ‘ya big baby. After what happened yesterday, I think there are a few things that rank a little higher than what is or is not in my kitchen.”
