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“And you could have your own cubs,” Sammy, their youngest sister, adds.
My whole body goes numb.
Cubs? Of my own?
In this world?
I’d never sleep again.
“Fine.” I turn my back on them all. “Don’t listen. Get yourselves killed. See if I care.”
Leo’s little face peeks up from around my thigh. “You want us to die?”
“Maybe not you,” I admit, setting my hand on his head. “You’re not annoying me.”
“I can’t wait to tell Matt and Nixon about this,” Josie manages in a giddy whisper.
I look back at Leo. “Josie I could definitely do without though.”
The little witch laughs. “You love us.”
“You’re the bane of my existence. All of you. Pathetically unprepared.”
“Now look who’s unprepared.”
I startle at Gracie’s voice sounding a lot closer than before, and when I look over my shoulder, I find the six of them gathered around me. “You’re in my space,” I warn them.
“Apparently, people can do that without getting hurt,” Grace counters.
“Says who?”
“Says Sasha,” Sammy answers, making kiss noises.
My whole face twists in disgust. “What has gotten into you all?”
“It’s so sweet.”
I’m about to glare at Josie when JJ agrees.
“It is pretty sweet. We didn’t even know you had feelings.”
“Rage is a feeling. And it’s very prominent right now.”
JJ laughs, and before I can stop him, he pulls me into a hug. My whole body freezes as more of the kids join us, and then I’m being suffocated from all sides. People are touching me, and knives are dangerously close to creating permanent damage, and Leo tangles himself around both of my legs, so I can’t even escape this travesty.
“We’re supposed to be training,” I bite out.
“We love you, Lynx,” Coco’s squeaky voice says from somewhere near my armpit.
The words send a pool of dread through me. Love is a destructive, impossible-to-contain emotion. It’s pain and terror and ignorance all wrapped up to be this bright, beautiful emotion. Love is the most dangerous thing in the world, and I never want to feel it again.
“Love is useless,” I tell them, pulling back from their gripping little hands and shaking off the overwhelming panic I feel when I look at them and picture something happening to them. “It will make you weak. It will make you hurt.” I squeeze my eyes tight when they start to get wet, but that dread has taken hold.
“Actually,” JJ corrects me, “Mom says that love gives you something to fight for.”
“What would she know?” Love doesn’t magically make you show up. Sometimes it makes you freeze. And sometimes you have to live with that for the rest of your life.
My hands are rattling at my sides, and even grabbing the kukri handle doesn’t help. It’s not my machete. It’s not my anchor. My grounding.
