“Where are you going?”
Kyzen turns back to me as he runs his hand through his hair and down his neck. The smile he gives me makes my jaw lock together.
“I’m going to call it a night and head to bed.”
“To bed? Your bed? Again?”
His gaze drops to the ground just as my feet hit the floor. I sling the plush blanket I’ve been sleeping with—on the fucking couch—away. We both flinch the slightest bit as it crashes into the lamp.
“I’m sorry. I swear, I’m fine, we’re fine. I…need a little time.”
I release a deep breath as I rub my temples and calm the instant spike in my frustration.
“You keep saying that you’re fine, but you aren’t acting like you’re fine. Just because you smile at me when you say it doesn’t make it the truth. It doesn’t make what happened vanish.”
His lips drop the facade, and a range of emotions crosses his face and my soul.
“Kyzen…”
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
Before I can utter another word, he disappears through his door, and I snatch at my roots. The urge to flip the fucking couch burns through my blood as I turn, staring at the empty, quiet house.
Instead of giving in to that desire, I stomp to my room.
The emptiness makes my nose burn.
Him staying on the couch longer than the rest led me into a false sense that—finally—someone would stay with me instead of hiding away in their room. Obviously, I was fucking wrong.
Four days.
Four days of silence, walking on eggshells, snippy remarks, sleeping on the couch, and darkening gazes.
I’ve tried not to make this about me because it’s painfully clear the guys are struggling. More than that, I know this is the first time they’ve ever had to face someone while confronting their trauma head-on.
Me. I’m the someone.
I throw my curtains open and command the lights to blaze before heading out the back door. I step past the threshold and drop onto my ass.
The light from my room doesn’t reach the tree line, but it’s enough that with my back to the door, I can see. It’s not so bright that it hides the stars, though.
I’d rather be flying through the night sky than staring at it.
It dawned on me today that the first time we went to the Abandon—when Seismet hinted they wanted space—they truly did. They needed time to brace themselves before facing me.
This time is deeper. Too close to home. And with no escape beyond their rooms, they hide there so I can’t watch them break.
I still feel it. Every ounce.
It pounds against my chest like a fist hitting stone.
This distance is breaking me too.
I’m torn between wanting to be close and knowing they need space. I crave their touch, yet I don’t initiate it because their gazes stay more disassociated than focused. I don’t want to startle them.
I’m desperate to tell them what the Goddess of Seduction planned to do with me, but I’m afraid it’d send not only Riven, but all of them, spiraling further.
The silence is driving me insane.
