Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
I gor and I were able to round up a dozen of Saela’s friends and our neighbors for training, which is a start.Within a few days, we’ve got them on a schedule, meeting after school as soon as I bring Saela home.
Now, I wince with sympathy as I watch a kid a few years younger than Saela fall face-first into the dirt. Falls like that hurt, but of course it’s nothing to his youthful body. He springs up like a hare, grinning, eager to go again.
And it’s not just hard knocks from training that they’re springing back from, not after last night.
“Which one was it?” Igor asks me, coming up beside me so he can keep his voice low.
“There—Timun, that gangly one,” I gesture. Timun is twelve and has just started another big growth spurt. He looks like he’s not sure where his body starts or ends.
Last night, a Nabber tried to get him, but Timun fought him off. He used a small carving knife he’s been keeping next to his mattress, along with some tricks to get away that we’ve taught him.
His mother rushed him over to my house this morning so he could tell me in person. I’m not sure I’ve ever been more elated than I was when looking at the sheer gratitude written on Mrs. Sulvan’s face. Knowing that I’m the one who helped save her kid.
“You should be proud of yourself,” Igor murmurs, and I flush.
“He didn’t get a look at the asshole’s face, though,” I say regretfully. “Apparently it was dark, and their face was covered…”
“Hmm,” Igor says, and we both fall into silence, watching Timun. He’s rolling happily in the dirt with two other boys, practicing their escapes, the trauma of last night seemingly forgotten.
“You’re pretty good at this, kid,” Igor grunts finally. I struggle for a retort, momentarily thrown off by the rare compliment. “You could think about charging for this, you know.”
“What, these kids? Their parents barely have the money to pay for new clothes when the old ones are pinching.”
Igor laughs. “No, I was thinking more like in the Northern Quarter, where the parents have a few coins to rub together.” He pauses, thoughtful. “Even in those nicer parts of town, things have been getting rougher. I bet the parents would be interested in helping their kids learn some self-defense skills.”
He pushes off from the fence and stretches. I can hear the cracks in his back and neck as he moves them.
“Anyway. Something to think about. It’d maybe get you out of the heat and steam of the laundry.”
It’s an idea. I nod and then turn away, calling in the kids.
“Okay, good job, everyone,” I say when they’ve gathered around me in a circle. Their little faces look up at me attentively. “I can see you’ve been practicing what we learned last time.”
I pause, looking over the dozen children that are gathered in the school’s sorry excuse for an exercise yard. Most of them are a little too thin, like they could use an extra meal or three. Signs of their parents’ care are abundant, though; little touches sewn into their clothing, like the heart-shaped patch that six-year-old Sami sports on the left knee of her trousers.
Waving Saela up to the front, I announce to everyone, “We’re going to show you a demonstration for some new moves you can use if an attacker grabs you from behind.”
Saela steps proudly forward, her shoulders back. I grin at her confidence.
“Ready to show what we practiced?” I murmur, voice pitched low so only she can hear.
“I was born ready,” Saela scoffs, rolling her eyes at me.
“Everyone, watch this closely,” I say.
Saela and I take a few steps further back to make sure everyone can see us. I move behind her and then dart forward quickly, grabbing her and wrapping my long arms around her slim torso. Her arms are effectively pinned to her side. She hesitates for just a moment, but then she’s running through the moves that we’ve practiced at home over the last few days.
She goes slack in my hands, becoming deadweight against my chest. Saela slips downward and I have to adjust my grip to keep her trapped, which gives her valuable seconds to maneuver.
Then, she slams the heel of her boot into my toes—a little harder than she really needs to for the demonstration. My yowl of pain is very convincing.
As soon as she can tell that I’m distracted by the pain, she shoves her arms away from her sides, loosening my grip once more, and slips out and under the circle of my arms, pretending to run away from me as the kids cheer.
“That was great, Sae,” I say, and duck down to rub my toes through my boot. “Maybe even a little more impressive than it needed to be?”
Saela giggles.
“So, right. Did everyone see how she used her size against me?” Heads nod, most seeming to grasp the basic principles at play here. “Sometimes it can be helpful to be small. Your attacker might expect you to be weak, to not fight back. Or you can fake at being weak, too.”
“Like you do in the ring!” one of the younger teenage boys shouts eagerly.
I give him a mock-stern look. “Not that you’d know anything about that, right?”
More giggles start up among the children. The fighting rings aren’t any place for kids, but that doesn’t stop some of the rougher dads from bringing their sons along from what is, in my opinion, too early an age.
“Your turn!” I count them into groups of three, making sure they’re paired with different kids from last time around. I have them practice until the sun dips toward the horizon. If I hold them here much later, they’ll miss dinner at home, and none of them can afford to do that.
Afterwards, I sling an arm around Saela’s shoulders as we walk toward home together. She’s chattering about her day, something about a mouse that got into her math class. I have trouble focusing on her words, though, Igor’s idea still bouncing around in my head.
Could he be right? Could my fighting skills lead to more than just a nasty nighttime habit that leaves me bruised and bloody—might they be my ticket out of this run-down quarter?
Later that week, I race home from training to get the house ready for Lee’s visit. He started coming over every two weeks a few months back, when it seemed like Mother’s health was taking a turn and I was no longer comfortable leaving Saela alone overnight.
Now, our biweekly dinner dates—with my family in attendance—are some of the few times we see each other outside of my fights.
Before I can make it back to the house, though, I spot Lee turning the corner of our row of houses, and I get a moment to just… stare at him.
He’s a few years older than me and taller, which I appreciate as a tall woman, and muscular in a lean way. Tonight, he’s out of his messenger’s uniform and wearing a blue button-down shirt under his coat that brings out the depth of his blue eyes. His face catches the torchlight from the sconce on the corner and I shamelessly admire the sharp cut of his jawline and cheekbones.
Lee spots me watching him and smirks, the twist of his full mouth setting my insides ablaze. He’s so handsome .
“I brought that bread your mother liked last time,” he says by way of greeting, passing me the packet when he nears. It’s still warm.
“Thank you,” I say, touched by the small but thoughtful gesture. “I wanted to say, about my mother…”
Her visit to the medic this week was the roughest one yet. My description of how she’s been acting lately clearly troubled the medic; plus, my mother was pretty out of it for the entire visit, rambling and vacant. But there was nothing he could do—he said we’re already giving her the maximum dosage of her medicine.
And that I need to prepare myself for a future where she’s always like this.
Lee is looking at me patiently, waiting for me to go on.
“She’s just been pretty bad lately,” I finish feebly, not wanting to get into all the details about her latest delusions.
“I’m so sorry, Meryn.” Lee’s voice is soft. “I know how hard it is to see her that way.”
I wrap my arms around him, closing my eyes and resting my forehead on his shoulder, taking comfort from his solid warmth. He brings a hand up to brush my hair aside, his breath hot on my neck.
His teeth nip my skin lightly and I shudder and push closer, heat coiling in my belly.
“If you do that much longer, we will not make it to dinner,” I say, my voice rough.
He sighs theatrically and pulls away, his hand coming up to tuck my hair behind an ear. “Have it your way.” He gestures toward my door. “After you.”
When we push the door open, I startle for a moment, unused to the sight before me: my mother is cooking. Something she hasn’t done in… I’m not sure how long.
I raise my eyebrows at Saela, who sits at our kitchen table, working on a row of figures on her chalkboard—prepping for a test tomorrow, I remember.
Saela smiles and shrugs.
“Mother!” I lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek, and she smiles at me.
“What was that for, honey?”
“Nothing.” I swallow. “Just… dinner smells good, Mother.”
The realization slams into me: it’s so rare to see her lucid these days that it’s almost weird, wrong. My chest tightens and I turn to Lee, distracting myself. “Hand me that loaf,” I say gruffly. “Let’s get it sliced up. It’ll go perfectly with…”
I turn back to Mom, inquiring with my eyes.
“Your father’s favorite—that fish stew he always asked for.” Mother continues stirring the fragrant pot calmly, seeming not to notice the silence that descends on the room for a moment as Saela and I savor the rare mention of our father.
Lee looks between the two of us, then moves toward the counter, grabbing a knife from the block and taking the fresh loaf from its bag. “Meryn, go sit.”
I collapse into the chair next to Saela, my feet throbbing. I’ve barely been off them all day. Closing my eyes, I savor the smells of cooking, the warmth from the cookstove and the fireplace at the far end of the room.
Saela bonks me on the forehead with her piece of chalk. “Wake up, sis.” I laugh and turn to her, grabbing her chalkboard to see what she’s working on. We chat about her school day, but I’m only half listening, my other ear trained on Mom and Lee, who are working side-by-side.
It’s too normal.
I try to ignore the thought that it can’t last and just enjoy the comfort.
As we take our seats at the table, Saela’s asking Lee questions about the Bonded City—the neighborhood on the far side of the castle that only Bonded and their families inhabit. Saela’s been interested ever since we glimpsed the Bonded marching through the streets this week.
She’s spreading butter across the bread Lee brought, but her eyes are glued on him. “So you’ve seen it? The Bonded City?”
“Yes, from afar, but you can see a lot of it from the upper floors in the castle,” he affirms, smiling at her wondering expression.
“What’s it like?” She sets her chin on her hands, rapt.
Lee hums. “Well, it’s obvious that it’s made for the Bonded and their wolves, for one. All the streets are broader, so that it’s easier for the direwolves to pass each other without getting their fur ruffled.” He reaches over and ruffles Saela’s hair to illustrate.
“Can you see the wolves from the castle?” she asks breathlessly, too enthralled to get annoyed at how he’s babying her.
“Sometimes,” Lee nods. “And one time I actually saw a direwolf pup, if you can believe it. Even their little ones are huge! They usually keep them out of the main city because they’re playful at that age, and don’t realize the damage they can do. Think of a baby animal nearly the size of a horse.”
Saela gasps. “I bet the pups are so cute!”
Lee rolls his eyes at me, and I laugh. “I think she’s missing the point about the dangerous wolf monsters with fangs as long as this spoon,” he stage-whispers, holding up his cutlery to demonstrate.
Mom is setting down the bowls of stew in front of each of us when I see the change start to come over her. Something shifts in her eyes—she gets that glazed expression that I hate so much. The bowl still in her hands wobbles, splashing broth and chunks of vegetable onto the floor. To my horror, she’s staring at Lee when she begins to babble.
I grab the bowl out of her hands before more spills, setting it down on the table.
“Nocturn curses you, traitor,” she hisses, and the venom in her voice makes my skin prickle. “He curses you!” Mom has raised a hand to point straight at Lee. He’s seen her delusional before, but never aimed at him.
“Mother,” I say, trying to draw her attention back to me, to calm her down. It only sets her off more.
“And you ,” she says, turning on me, wild-eyed. “You are not where you are meant to be.”
She raises her hand and attempts to strike me, but I catch her wrist in mid-air, holding it tightly. The silver engagement bracelet my father gave her, the one she’s never taken off, slips up her thin arm. Mother squirms against my grip as I move to restrain her entirely.
“Sorry,” I mumble to Lee. “I’ll be back soon.”
Then I half-lead, half-carry my mother out of the room.
“Curses upon you! You hear me?” My mother is still ranting as I pull her away.
Behind me, I hear Saela rise to grab a rag for the floor. I’m scared to turn and look at Lee’s expression. He’s always been kind about my mother’s health, but he’s never seen her at this level before.
I guide my mother through the short hallway to her bed, and thankfully she gets into bed without a fight, slipping between the sheets, her face expressionless.
“Mother,” I start, but then I don’t know what to say next that might make a difference. “Here, let’s get you your medicine,” I say finally, grabbing the vial from the stool next to her bed that serves as a bedside table.
The viscous syrup smells vile, bitter and sharp. I can’t imagine what it must taste like, but my mother takes the spoon from me obediently, rolling to face the wall once she’s swallowed it down, still murmuring names and curses under her breath.
I sit softly on the mattress next to her, wincing at the lumps—we should have replaced the mattress a long time ago, but we haven’t had the money for it.
Carefully, I lift my hand, smoothing it down my mother’s arm, repeating the action until her tension eases, her breathing stabilizes.
As I do, I try to calm my own breathing, repeating to myself over and over that she cannot help it, she did not choose to be this way. Some days, I need the reminder—and now is most definitely one of those moments.
More than anything, there’s a sting in my chest—the painful knowledge that I was foolish, hoping for a “normal” evening.
This is our normal now.
I douse the lantern and tiptoe out, not wanting to rouse her, hoping she’ll stay asleep and leave us in peace for the rest of the evening. I hate myself in that moment, for wishing my mother away, but I shove the feeling aside.
Hesitantly poking my head back into our house’s main room, I see that Saela and Lee have left their stew abandoned on the table, half-eaten. They’ve pulled two chairs together and Lee is reading to her from a legend about lovelorn gods. She’s snuggled underneath his comforting arm, engrossed in the story.
I stand there watching for a few moments, leaning into the doorframe. Lee’s eyes flick up to mine, and his steady gaze says everything—he’s not running away from us, not even after that display.
The tension in my chest eases, and I walk across the room to take a seat on the floor at their feet.
“Meryn does the best voice for the goddess,” Saela says proudly. “Meryn, you read this next part!”
“Alright, but just one more chapter and then you need to finish your studying and go to bed,” I say, laughing at Saela’s groan.
“The goddess was locked in the tower, and nobody knew she was there,” I begin, the words of Saela’s favorite story familiar in my mouth. “She knew that if she was going to escape, she’d have to find a way to do it herself…”
After Saela’s in bed, I lead Lee outside to say goodnight and he turns to me, his face serious. Snowflakes drop on his creased brow. “Meryn, how often does that happen?”
I sigh, leaning my head against his chest. His hands trail up and down my arms. “The delusions? Every day.”
Lee’s hands tighten around my biceps, and I look up into his eyes. “I’m not talking about the delusions and you know it.”
Swallowing hard, I avert my gaze. The woman in there—the one who tried to hit me—wasn’t my mother. I’ve been transparent with Lee about her struggles and he’s seen them first-hand many times, but I’ve never told him about how she gets violent. Putting it into words has felt like a betrayal of the mother I knew.
Maybe it’s time to accept that the mother I knew is gone.
And then there’s the other thing I’ve been hiding from him, the part that tortures me in my dreams. How my grandmother had this madness too, and her mother before that. How the madness runs in my blood, lurking in the shadows, waiting to drag me down into its depths.
“I have it under control, as you saw,” I mumble.
“I’m not worried about you. Obviously , you can hold your own. But what about Saela? It’s not safe for her here. What if something happens and you’re not around?”
Frustration sparks in my veins. I look back up at him, trying very hard to fight down the tears that are pricking at the back of my eyes. I know he’s right but…
“What am I meant to do, Lee? Leave my mother to fend for herself? Take Saela to live elsewhere? How can I pay for two places at once? And who will watch after my mother if I’m not here?”
“Come live with me,” he says. “I’ll take care of you two. Your mom can stay here and we’ll check in on her regularly.”
I huff out a surprised laugh. “How could we even manage that? Your apartment is tiny. There’s no room for the three of us there.”
“Then we’ll move, find a bigger place. Or we’ll put your mother there and you, Saela and I will live here. We’ll figure it out, kitten. But I’m going to protect you, and I’m going to protect your sister. Let me.”
The tears are falling now, hot streaks down my cheeks in the cold winter air. My chest tightens and suddenly it’s as if I can’t breathe. How long has it been since someone genuinely wanted to help us? Since someone saw my situation and offered me a way out?
No, it’s more than that—offered, and then insisted I accept.
Where did this man come from, who has the power to melt my heart so thoroughly? I’d trade sun and sky and light itself to know I’d never have to lose him.
I wrap my arms around Lee’s neck and pull him toward me, desperate for his mouth on mine. He moves me backward, around the corner, into the alley that runs perpendicular to our street. There are no street lanterns here, so we can fade into the shadows. The closest we get to a private spot.
I stumble breathlessly back into the wall behind me, pulling Lee with me until he’s flush against my body, his heat and hard muscle pressing me back into the hard stone.
When our lips connect again, it isn’t soft this time, but demanding. I lose myself in the needy tangle of our kiss, circling my hands around his waist, dipping a few fingers into his waistband until my chilly fingers meet his hot skin.
Lee growls into my mouth, pressing me roughly into the wall, and his arousal is hard and insistent against me. I move my hips into him, relishing the sounds he makes. He yanks the edge of my tunic from where it’s tucked into my pants, anchoring one hand to my hip as the other slides up over smooth skin to cup my breast, only thin layers of cloth between his hand and my nipple.
Heat surges through me, and I break our kiss to look at him. Both of us look like we’re daring the other to take things further.
“We’re not done talking about that,” he says.
“No,” I agree. “Later.”
His mouth slams back onto mine, drawing my bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it until I moan.
My wandering fingers find what they were looking for, Lee’s arousal heavy and thick in my hand through his pants. I stroke him, and our mouths part, Lee’s forehead resting against mine as he breathes heavily.
“Come back to mine?” His tone is half-question, half-order, and goddess , I wish I could. I’ve taken my monthly contraceptive drought that I pick up alongside mother’s medicines at the apothecary. But…
I haven’t wanted to leave Saela alone overnight, not since Leesa was kidnapped just a few short blocks from here.
Even the thought now is dousing the flames inside of me.
His face is still flushed from our kissing, hair mussed, and a stab of regret goes through me, but I know I won’t be able to think of anything else until I check on Saela, reassure myself that all is well.
“Another night. Look, you should head out, but I’ll start thinking about your proposal and… we’ll figure out a way to make it work.”
“Good,” he says, giving me a last parting kiss.
I let myself back into my house, latching the lock firmly behind me, and move swiftly toward Saela’s and my room. Opening the door to our room, I shiver in the cool breeze.
That’s strange—there shouldn’t be a breeze.
My eyes dart to the window, which is shoved open, letting in the icy air. Heart pounding, I run over to Saela’s bed.
There’s nobody in it.
Saela is gone.