Chapter 11 Rion
RION
“Are we really just meant to wait here while they do everything?” Elodie grumbles, despair pinching the corners of her eyes as she paces in front of my bed.
Even now, in a moment of desperation, fueled by frustration over the fact that we’re currently helpless, she looks beautiful. I can’t get enough of her.
“That’s what he said, Petal,” I remind her, referring to Thorne’s orders before he left with Ocean.
“I’m trying to remember who put him in charge,” she retorts, giving me a pointed look, and I can’t stop the grin lifting the corner of my mouth.
“No one,” I admit, earning a huff, but I carry on. “But it’s Thorne, and if you didn’t know already, he’s a fancy fae prince and we must obey his orders,” I tease, making her eyes roll.
“That’s dramatic,” she musters, folding her arms over her chest, and I snicker.
“Of course I’m the dramatic one.”
She stops in front of me where I sit perched on the edge of my bed, but before I can tug her into my embrace, she whacks me playfully on the chest.
I capture her wrist in my hands, running my thumb across her delicate skin as I blink up at her. When she doesn’t immediately pull away, I take a moment to enjoy the silence, bathing in her presence.
I understand her frustration, I feel it too, but the reality is, we’re not magical. Well, technically she is, but only in the Shadow Realm, which is only currently accessible via dreams. So right here, where we need it, she’s as useless as me for what we actually need.
At least Thorne and Ocean can use their abilities to try and track the source of The Vale’s magic. It just means we have to keep our heads down here. More bodies will only draw attention to them. Besides, someone has to be on standby in case Kael returns, or worse… Jude.
Happy to pretend I’m in a blissful bubble, I squeeze her wrist gently, focusing on the present. “Why don’t you try and have a nap?” I offer, and she huffs again.
“I don’t stand a chance,” she quickly replies, and I nod.
“Do you want to watch tv?” I counter, and she shakes her head.
“I can’t relax,” she mumbles, shoulders slumping in defeat.
“You haven’t tried,” I acknowledge, and instead of the look of disdain I expect, she tilts her head back as she stares blankly at the ceiling.
“My mind is racing,” she admits, and I tug her in closer, bringing my free hand to the back of her thigh as I nestle her between my legs.
“It’s your mind, it’s always racing,” I add playfully, and that earns me a withering look, but I don’t mind. I love her eyes on me in any capacity.
Knowing I exist in the same damn orbit as her is enough to set my soul on fire, but having her attention is something else entirely. It’s almost otherworldly, but that seems like madness, given where we are.
“You’re cute when you scowl,” I tease, bringing her hand to my mouth. I ghost my lips across her knuckles and she shivers, but manages to keep her lips set in a thin line.
“Don’t try and sweeten me up,” she grumbles, and I grin.
“That’s not possible. You’re already sweet enough,” I reply, earning another eye roll.
“That’s cheesy.”
“You think that’s cheesy?” I state with wide eyes. “I can give you cheesy if you like.”
Before she can confirm or deny wanting the level of cheese I have to offer, I pull her in even closer, knocking her off her feet as I roll us onto the bed.
The squeal that rushes from her mouth is enough to spur me on, and I launch into a tickle attack.
Her strained laughter fills the room as I jump from her thighs to under her arms, but pinching at her sides, repeating the motion a few times until we’re a heap of limbs, wheezing with laughter as we try to breathe.
Adrenaline courses through my veins when we stop, delight making me feel lighter than ever, and the feeling is only made stronger by the fact that I can see the same joy in her eyes.
I want to eliminate the distance between us, slam my lips against hers and taste the sweetness of her smile against mine, but we’ve had enough moments that serve as a distraction between us.
I need her to see there’s more to us than that.
I need the next time to be heartfelt and important, like a connection of two lost souls anchoring themselves to one another to make sure they weather the storm.
“Watch Spiderman with me,” I breathe, my body groaning in protest as my cock strains against my boxers.
Elodie’s eyes widen. “That’s not what I was expecting you to say.”
Me either. I don’t say that, though.
Instead, I push up, only to lean back against my head board before tugging her along with me, settling her between my thighs with her back against my chest. She moves willingly, snuggling against me as I quickly find what I’m looking for on the tv.
“What were you expecting me to say?” I finally ask once the opening credits begin to roll, startled by the question that leaves my lips unfiltered.
She peers over her shoulder at me, a knowing grin in place.
“I don’t know, something with wolves in it,” she muses, leaving me to blink at her for a moment until understanding finally washes over me.
Pressing a kiss to her cheek, I offer her a wink. “Teen Wolf is a vibe, but I’d rather watch a high school kid in a crazy outfit fly around New York without a care in the world.”
“I think he has cares, Rion, and I’m guessing a superhero’s concerns relate to the world somehow,” she answers, and I shrug.
“Meh, I would take being Spiderman over being trapped in The Vale,” I answer honestly, and her eyes soften as she nods.
“Well, that’s because Spiderman isn’t being punished for his sins.”
Her words hit me like a brick, sinking in my gut as I struggle to breathe around the sensation. Rubbing my lips together, I ask a question that floats in my mind almost daily. “Do you ever feel like they’re not really our sins to punish?”
She shifts slightly so she can see me better, the movie already forgotten as she blinks at me. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” I rasp, quickly trying to play it off, but she’s not having any of it.
“You do, you just don’t want to say it.”
“Aren’t you clever,” I mumble, stroking my finger down the side of her face as she continues to look at me with such softness that it threatens to melt me on the spot.
“I’m a high school drop out, and a badass one at that,” she preens, batting her eyelashes playfully, and I cock a brow at her.
“Are you really badass if you have to say you’re badass?”
Another whack of the back of her hand against my chest, and I’m lost in her.
“Okay, okay,” I surrender, capturing her wrists again, and she leans into me, resting her head against my shoulder as she stares into my eyes.
“What do you mean they’re not really our sins to punish?” she asks after a few moments, refusing to let the subject drop.
I don’t know whether I hate it or love it.
Talking about emotions isn’t my thing. I’ve never known how. Not with the pit that forms in my stomach, along with the memories I have of being a child and getting lectured on how I was supposed to act.
Emotionless.
On the other hand, the fact that she’s willing to listen, to hear me without judgment, makes me feel more seen than ever before.
Damn.
Wiping a hand down face, I muster a deep breath before I attempt to speak. “If we weren’t raised how we were, brought up in the surroundings we were stuck in, would we have taken the same actions?”
Her eyes widen as if she had never looked at it that way before. “I don’t know,” she breathes, and I nod.
“Tell me what happened that brought you here.”
It’s not something we’ve ever really talked about. We’ve been too busy surviving the disasters that continue to come our way. Seconds turn into minutes before she speaks, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to backtrack when her lips part.
“When I really think about it, I was set up by Walker.”
“The guy who brought you back when you ran,” I clarify, and she hums in agreement.
“One and the same,” she mumbles, disappointment lingering in the air.
“The guy who works for Jude?” I clarify, and she sniffs.
“Apparently so.”
There’s a lot left unsaid, but it’s clear she doesn’t want to delve into it, and I’m in no position to make her.
Instead, I try to keep to my initial point.
“Would you have been in the position to kill someone if you weren’t with him?
Not that I’m trying to pass on the blame of our actions to someone else, but circumstantially, I mean. ”
She worries her bottom lip as she thinks.
“No, I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure. My surroundings weren’t good regardless, and even though my life is mayhem here, it’s still a whirlwind of a difference from what my life was like back home.”
There’s something in her tone that twists in my gut. “How so?” I breathe, my hand stilling when I realize it was ghosting up and down her spine mindlessly.
“It’s no secret I’ve felt trapped here since I first arrived,” she starts, and flashes of her trying to escape through Institute Twelve instantly come to mind.
“I’m still confined now, but at least here I can embrace some mental freedom, even if I don’t like being in The Vale and under The Sanctum’s watchful eye,” she explains.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt as my chest tightens with sadness for her. It’s something I understand all too well.
“Don’t be,” she insists, and I shake my head, wrapping my arm tightly around her, making sure she stays exactly where she is.
“It’s hard not to,” I admit, and she offers me a more reassuring smile this time.
“For sure, but I’m trying to find the silver lining in everything, and at least here I have a bed, clean clothes, hot food, and loyal friends.”
My heart lurches in my chest. “Fuck, Petal. That’s sad.”
If she hadn’t already killed the man that pretended to be her father, then I would be hellbent on doing it now. Although, she has mentioned a mother, I think? Maybe she needs to pay for her sins as well.
“I know, but at least I’m not dead. That’s sadder,” she muses, tilting her face to watch the tv for a moment.