Page 55 of Shred of Darkness


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Amara

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“-will be fine. Amara’sstronger than you give her credit for,” Raiden states, but his praise falls flat as my hand stills in my reach for the cracked-open door of Stone’s bedroom.

Not in the mood to play the eavesdrop and fill-in-the-blanks-with-anxiety game, I shove it open and lean against the doorframe, nonchalantly drawling, “You know, if you're going to talk about people, you should really either include them, or shut the door first.”

Three guilty faces avoid my gaze, but I focus my attention on Kodiak, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the betrayal chipping away at my heart. “Them, I'm not surprised. But you? This stings more than I want to admit.”

He refuses to meet my eye, and for a brief moment, I resent him for it. I hate knowing my paranoia wasn’t unfounded, that I talked myself out of listening to my instincts and this has to even be a discussion in the first place.

Stone calmly states, “We were trying to get all of our facts verified before we brought it to you and worried you for no reason. Not trying to hide anything, just make sure there was even areasonto have an uncomfortable conversation.”

Kodi clears his throat. “We were thinking that tattoo you burned over? Maybe there was a way to get the ink out in case it was... tainted or something. Tattoos done in a basement can't be hygienic, and we don't know where ass-face got his supplies from. That theory we had about you draining yourself is still just an educated guess until you’ve had more time to practice, so we’re trying to cover all of our bases.”

My stomach’s a mess of doubts, and I have a strong feeling that this is more than they’re making it out to be, but clearly, I’m not going to get it out of them like this. “All the more reason you should have included me in your conspiracy ramblings. I have a friend that could probably take care of it without needing to cut my arm off.”

Raiden’s gaze snaps up to mine and demands, “Who? How?”

Strumming my fingers along my upper arm, I pick a steady rhythm that helps settle my anxiety. Repetitive. Predictable. “If you don't know, there's probably a reason for that, don’t you think? I'd have to check with them first before spilling their secrets, becausesomeof us actually respect that level of trust.”

He scrubs a hand over his face and huffs, “Amara...”

Refusing to kowtow to his posturing games, I shrug. “You don't want me keeping secrets, practice what you preach. I was just coming to let you know there's food in the kitchen if you wanted; I wasn't sure if you were saving room for the fancy dinner tonight.”

Stone takes a step closer. “I'll join you.”

I hold up a hand to stop him in his tracks. “No no, please continue protecting me from things like a hypocrite, after you made me promise not to do that shit to you. Carina will be here any minute to subject me to her torture session anyway, so I'll take my plate up to my room.”

***

“Ilook ridiculous.”

Carina sandwiches my cheeks between her palms and pulls me down to her level so she can pin me with a glare. “You’re hot as fuck; own that shit. You have three men wrapped around your finger, you’re gorgeous, and you absolutely donotlook ridiculous. Tell me honestly that this dress isn’t perfect.”

A deep blood red, it contrasts with my golden skin perfectly. The low neckline teases at my cleavage without being obscene, cinching at my waist and ending at my knees in a swishy hemline that flares out when I move. It’s the sheer sleeves that give me pause, though. The material is thick enough to obscure everything at a quick glance, but anyone paying attention will notice the roadmap of scars across my arms, see the myriad of marks that Malcolm carved into my flesh.

Carina read my mind perfectly, even the things I refused to voice when she asked what I wanted her to look for. For the first time in my life, I feel human.Not a rare commodity struggling to remain hidden, but someone that’s been through hell trying to find her place in a cruel world, and can finally breathe for the first time.

“The questions and comments are going to suck.”

“Lifesucks, Amara,” she immediately retorts. “Shitty things happened to you, yeah, but you’re not going to let that bastard stop you from living anymore. Malcolm can get bent. If anyone feels like commenting, they can take it up with Raiden. Or Stone. Or Kodiak. And if they don’t do anything to shut the naysayers up, you call me, and I’ll march my ass down there and make the scene of the century to not only put those assholes in their places, but smack some sense into my brother and his friends.”

I take a deep breath and nod. “I’m done being afraid of him. Honestly, I’m kind of sick of this bullshit in general. I wasn’t built for political games.”

Carina skims her fingertips up the sheer fabric over my arm, subtly drawing attention to my scars emblazoned beneath. Fierce determination stares back at me as she adamantly declares, “No, you were built to bring about change, even when people fight it tooth and nail. Carve out your own place in this world, Amara. Don’t settle for one that someone has already set aside for you.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, I nod, kissing her cheek. Grabbing my black purse and slinging the long strap across my body, I rest a hand on it at my hip for a sense of security I know damn well is pointless, but desperately need before walking into a building filled with alpha shifters that think the world owes them something simply because they were born higher up in the food chain.

But whether they like it or not, so was I.

Rifling through my bag, I check it for the twentieth time, but everything is exactly where it should be. A taser, switchblade, cellphone, my wallet, and some snacks. I pretend that it’ll be enough to stand between me and a world that both desires and loathes me for existing.

While some men are like mine, considering mates a blessing, others resent how much power we have and go out of their way to prove how much more they wield. It’s sad, in all honesty. They hate that they want us, and punish us for their desires rather than accept any personal responsibility.

I may not love Aurelia for the pain she put Stone through, but I respect her for seeing the bigger picture and trying to balance the scales, to give us a fighting chance.

“Thank you.” Flashing Carina a grateful smile, I head over to the footboard of my bed where Avery’s been studiously watching over us. “You’re seriously amazing, you know that?”