I tried multiple times yesterday to say something light-hearted, something that might get a reaction out of Kyzen, but all it earned me was a gentle squeeze of my fingers.
I logically know he isn’t trying to brush me off, but with the way I’m feeling, it still stings like rejection. I can’t focus on that too long, or I’ll flip out on him and make this worse.
He caught on to my emotions when I finally went silent.
He didn’t give me words or smiles, but he kissed my forehead and hugged me tight when we reached the spot Amick declared would be camp for that first night.
We slept like shit. If you can even call it sleep.
The guys took rotations watching, bouncing me from chest to chest every time one of them switched out. It was difficult enough falling asleep on the hard-ass ground, and every time they moved me, it startled me awake.
I had to battle my mind and force my eyes back shut.
Not to mention, I’m painfully aware I probably smell like sweat and death, even though my armor was cleaned.
As much as I’d like to believe they held me to make sure I was okay and to get me a little more comfortable, I know better.
My soul knows better.
They’re freaking the fuck out internally. It’s getting worse by the second, and my soul laps up the dark shit they send across the ropes.
When Derivius first dropped us—and our additional help—at the barrier to the Abandon, farthest from Hellveilious’s side, they were still firmly stuck in their pissed-the-hell-off phase. I was right there with them.
Derivius let me go on and on, cussing him out for not joining us.
When my rant finally ended, he asked, sarcastic as shit, if I was finished. Kyzen jumped in quickly, not calmly at all, and explained that Derivius couldn’t come without it being viewed as an act of rebellion against his disownment.
They’d lock him up for it.
I still don’t fully understand where or what that means, but his comment about needing to work on distractions while we’re gone had me zipping my mouth shut. We need him as free as possible, fighting the Abandon through godly taurnshit politics while we march straight into enemy territory.
In the hours that have dragged on since, the guys cycle through emotions I don’t dare touch.
Every crack of a limb has their heads snapping toward the sound. If a voice rises above a light tone, whoever spoke earns a death glare that shuts them up fast. Any sudden movement has all of them reacting.
Creed’s arm flinches, like he’s restraining himself from reaching for his sword.
Amick’s shoulders jump up near his ears, like he’s bracing for a hit from behind.
Kyzen’s fingers haven’t stopped trembling. The last shred of light in his eyes went out when we reached this new area we’re waiting in.
I’m numb.
My mind is…I don’t know. Clouded.
It’s taken an unreal level of concentration to keep not only my powers settled beneath my skin, but my soul locked inside my chest.
Fuck. It desperately wants to reach out. Not in three directions, but four.
My hands roam from the straps on Riven’s backpack to the zippers on the waist bags. I’ve started treating his belongings like lifelines, clinging to the connection they keep me tethered to.
The only time they’ve left my body was when I lay down last night.
We made camp at this new location hours ago, and no one’s made a move to rest.
So I have no reason to take them off now.
Sleep will wait until we’re back home.
