Page 5 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

He’ll come for me.

It was a mantra in my head as I staggered to my feet, leaning on Akhane’s shoulder until I could be sure that my knees wouldn’t give, then, with a whispered apology for leaving her, I turned and stumbled towards the road.

2. Shake it Off

~ BREN ~

Almost an hour later, my hand visibly trembled as I reached for the farmgirl blouse I’d hung in the wardrobe when Donavyn and I were here. I gripped the material like it was a lifeline and pulled it off the hanger to put it on as quickly as I could, with fingers that shook so badly the buttons kept slipping from my grasp.

My head was silent, but for a strange, buzzing, hum inside my skull, like a wasp was trapped in there, banging between my temples, trying to get out.

Ruin, looming over me, smiling, the golden sun behind him as he grasped my braid in one fist and pulled my head back so hard I couldn’t move—

My breath rushed out of me. I reached for the skirt, tripping when I caught a toe stepping into the waistband and pitched forward with a small cry, catching myself in time to stop my nose smacking on the floorboards. But my knees cracked.

It was such a little thing, but a wave of shivering overtook me and my throat tightened.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You can not cry.

Swallowing the lump that wanted to make my eyes water, I pushed back to my feet and looked down at myself.

A simple, cotton, half-buttoned blouse hung over my hips.

It looked like a nightdress.

The full skirt lay in a crumpled mess on the ground. I knew I should put it on, that wearing these clothes would make me far less conspicuous.

But the skirts could tangle my legs in a fight.

The blouse offered no protection when I flew.

And when my head snapped up because there were footsteps in the hallway outside the room, I caught sight of myself in that little, oval mirror on the wall and I looked… weak.

I watched the color flood my cheeks at that thought, and I turned away as soon as I was certain the footsteps had gone to the stairs and down.

There was only a moment of indecision, then I moved, grabbing the skirt and rehanging it in the wardrobe, unbuttoning the blouse with jerky fingers and whipping it off to hang next to the skirt.

With trembling hands, I shook out my leathers and re-dressed, grateful for the blade in the sheath at my hip. It wasn’t long, made for cutting leather in the event of a strap tangle, or to help strip branches to make shelter if I was stranded somewhere. But it was a weapon.

Checking the buckle that kept it at my hip, I nodded to myself, pushing away the niggling voice that said this wasn’t the wisest choice. That my clothing was not armor and I didn’t need it to be strong.

Because I needed something.

Ruin behind me, thrusting so hard his thighs slapped, my hair fisted in his iron grip so my back arched and my head strained back, making it hard to breathe. His knees locked between mine so I couldn’t move.

I was helpless. He loved it.

And I loved him, so I’d do anything—

I shuddered and inhaled sharply, begging God to take these memories away. To tell my mind to stop conjuring them. But it wasn’t only my hands that trembled now. My bones seemed to vibrate, inside my skin. A sick weight sat in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t think.

I needed to do something. Yet, I turned another circle, scanning the room… for what?

I took one, faltering step towards the door—then halted. I couldn’t go out there. Not dressed like this. Rumors would circulate of a female soldier—whispers too easily connected to a scandalous woman at the castle. No. I had to stay here. And not just because of the clothes.

It was growing late. I’d only been here a few minutes, but since the moment I crawled in the window, music, laughter, and the thumps of cups on tabletops, and boots on the floor, shivered up through the floor.