Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
It feels like déjà vu when I sit up, but this time, I’m not alone.
I can’t see him, but I can feel his dark influence like a band around my neck telling me to stay.
I don’t move from the slab—mostly because my feet are throbbing like they’ve been scraped with a cheese grater and slapped on a hot grill.
The cave is cold, and I think about starting a fire when my thoughts should be on how to escape.
When I shiver for the fourth time, I give in and start a fire.
I have a hell of a time finding dry kindling and a stick and flint to start it with though.
Once the first of the flames burst to life, I stay crouched and wrap my arms around myself as I look around the now-lit cave to ensure myself I’m alone.
I’m not.
There’s a thump of panic against my chest when I spot a shadow larger than the others hovering near the back of the cave. I keep my gaze on it and wait for him to step out into the light, but he doesn’t. He continues to hover there as if I’m the one needing hiding from.
“I know you’re there,” I call out hoarsely. My throat feels raw from thirst. “Show yourself.”
Finally, the shadow moves and parts from the others against the corner of the cave where the faint light of the fire doesn’t quite reach, but I don’t need it to know it’s him.
Bane.
There’s no question of that now, and I feel foolish for not recognizing that he wasn’t Zeke or Seth earlier. Except he looks at me like they do—like I’m already his.
I almost forget to be afraid because the weight of his stare feels so very familiar, but from Bane, the feeling is more like a freefall than an anchor.
Zeke’s vengeful alter. His sword.
I used to think that was what Seth was until I saw for myself how eager he is to share his heart and affection and to be loved and accepted in return. He’s dangerous, but only makes me feel like I’m wrapped in a warm blanket and protected.
But that isn’t Bane. I have no idea what he dreams of or what he wants. And I realize it’s the unknown that makes him so terrifying. I hop up when he gets too close and back away despite my ravaged feet.
“Juuu-sss-ttt stay right there. D-d-don’t come any closer.” I hold up a hand that ends up pressed against his scalding-hot chest when he ignores me.
“Mine.”
“No. No. I’m not y-yours. I won’t let you hurt me.”
“Hurt you,” he repeats as if tasting the idea on his tongue. He frowns a moment later like he finds it distasteful. “No.”
A bolt of confusion spears through me, and then my mind shifts when I realize… “You can speak.” He spoke to me in the dell when he woke briefly, but I was so freaked out about what almost happened that I didn’t pay much notice to what shouldn’t have happened.
Bane pauses and then he answers as if he’s reluctant to admit it. “Yes.”
“How? Thorin and Khalil said you couldn’t.”
Hearing their names draws forth that malevolence again that makes the green in his eyes seem like they’re bleeding obsidian. I make a terrified sound, and that darkness retreats as if he’s calling it back.
Okay, note to self. Don’t bring Khalil and Thorin up in front of Bane. Ever.
“Zeke speaks. I speak, Au-re-li-a.” He says it matter-of-factly like it should have been obvious.
I guess it never occurred to Thorin and Khalil that Bane didn’t speak to them simply because he didn’t want to.
He speaks to me though, and the light, warm feeling it causes in my stomach makes me think I need my head examined.
Seth is naive in a lot of ways, but I wasn’t prepared for Bane’s regression.
How much pain? How much pain did Isaac have to cause for Zeke to go to these lengths just to cope and feel safe? It haunts me when I wonder about it for too long. What about Bane—besides the obvious murderous rage—makes Zeke feel safe when Seth can’t?
It breaks my heart.
Right now, it’s just frustrating because I’m lost in the wilds again, and this time, it’s with someone who may or may not want to kill me.
Other than scare the shit out of me, he hasn’t tried yet, but rather than put me at ease, it fills me with anxiety.
It’s knowing the knife in your back is coming but having no clue when.
“But you only speak to me. Why?” I’m almost afraid to know the answer.
“Mine.”
I whine my frustration and rub my brows to stave off the impending migraine. “Not this again.”
“Au-re-li-a.”
“Yes, Bane. That’s my name, not Mine, so use it,” I snap before I can decide whether it’s wise.
Bane stares at me and then walks away and the last thing I expect to do is follow him.
I should be running from him in terror, not stalking him across the cave.
As crazy as it sounds, it really doesn’t seem like he’ll hurt me.
Or maybe I’m just a gullible fool. “Where are we? Where did you take me?”
“Safe.”
I don’t feel very safe, but he’s only partially to blame. “We need to get back to the cabin. We need to go home.”
Bane looks around the cave and then back at me. “Home.”
I’m racking my mind for how to get him to understand that this isn’t home when I catch on to his meaning and my stomach swoops suddenly. “No.” A hysterical laugh escapes me. “I am not staying here. You need to take me back right now.”
Bane ignores me as he walks over to the fire and crouches to warm his hands. His hair and clothes are still wet—mine are too—which means I wasn’t out for very long this time.
“Bane,” I say softly, trying a different tactic. “Please.”
“We stay.”
“I can’t stay. We can’t stay. We need food. We need shelter. We—”
Bane rises to his feet, and I try not to let it get to me how easily he towers over me.
How did I never notice before how tall Zeke is?
Bane makes him look taller. Bigger. It’s obviously just my perception of him but logic isn’t helping me right now.
He’s glowering at me now, and I wonder if this is it, if he’s finally going to live up to his name. “Safe here.”
I sigh in defeat. What else can I do? I refuse to leave without him, and I obviously can’t make him go. I need one of the others to reason with, and until Seth or Zeke wake up, we have no choice but to stay. It shouldn’t be long, right? Khalil and Thorin said that Bane never sticks around for long.
“Well, I’m thirsty,” I announce. “And if we’re going to stay, we need to find food and water.”
Bane scowls at me for a long moment and then he walks away. At the mouth of the cave, he turns his head enough to address me. “Stay.”
“I can help—”
“Stay,” he repeats with a growl before he leaves the cave.
It feels like forever before he returns with the snapped necks of two bunnies and a large leaf full of fresh spring water carefully balanced in his hands.
He makes several trips for more water, and when he returns the final time, I’m not prepared for him to kneel in front of the slab where I’m sitting and wait anxiously, taking my foot gently in his hand.
Carefully, he turns my foot, upending my sole, and pours some of the cool water in the leaf over the wounds.
“You are…hurt,” he says as he trails his thumb down the side of my sole that isn’t damaged.
“Yes.”
Bane lets go of my foot and grabs the other, pouring the cool water over it and washing the debris away. “Never again.”
“I don’t have any control over that.”
“No more,” he barks with enough gravel in his tone that it scrapes the part of me that desperately wants to obey. To be a good girl.
“Fine,” I whisper gently just to appease him. “I won’t get hurt again.”
I don’t want Bane upset, and not just for my sake. Zeke and his alters have already been through so much. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I ever caused them more pain.
Bane takes the leaves that he used to carry the water and creates a makeshift wrapping for my feet. I’m shocked and impressed, but I don’t let either emotion show because my confusion still reigns supreme.
Never one to keep my thoughts to myself, I ask the question that’s not a question. “They said you’d hurt me,” I grumble.
Bane’s jaw ticks and his green eyes flash with irritation. “They were wrong.”
Sleep doesn’t come easy.
After we eat, Bane disappears from the cave again, and even though I’m exhausted, I won’t let myself close my eyes until he returns.
Call me crazy, but there’s something comforting about his presence.
He says he doesn’t want to hurt me, and I’m not sure yet if I believe him, but he did save my life.
Is he still terrifying? Holy fuck, yes. But I can’t help but think that those jerks got it wrong.
At least partly. Bane did try to kill Khalil and Thor many times, but he’s obviously more complicated than that.
Besides, who wouldn’t want to kill Khalil and Thorin?
I’m also guilty of trying and failing. In fact, I would like to right now for the image they planted of Bane in my head and let fester.
When Bane returns, I start to fidget, and I don’t know why until he keeps his distance and I feel my body, which has already taken so much abuse in the last twenty-four hours, relax.
He sits with his back against the cave wall.
He’s facing me while guarding the entrance at the same time.
Why? To keep me in or to keep others out?
Bane needs sleep as much as I do, but I don’t want to sleep either.
I’m too worried about tomorrow. What will happen, what I’ll do…
“Will you talk to me?” I ask just to get out of my head. Only silence answers back, but Bane’s gaze remains steady. “Is Zeke okay?” I sit up when he doesn’t answer and draw my knees to my chest. “Bane, I can’t stay here. You know that right? I have to go back.”
A frustrated sound comes from him then that almost makes me spring to my feet.
I blow out a shaky breath and tell myself to get a grip. If he were going to hurt me, he would have.
“No offense,” I say with frustration lining my tone. “I really appreciate you saving my life, but I really need Zeke back now.”
I don’t wait for a response that never comes. Instead, I lie down on the hard slab once more and turn my back to him. When sleep comes for me, I don’t fight it.
There will be plenty of battles tomorrow.