Chapter 31 #3
“I know it’s not going to be your favorite topic, but they’re excited to have something good happen. Something to celebrate.” The last part seemed to hesitate as it passed over the tongue, her hand touching my thigh along with a reassuring squeeze.
I glanced at her hand, and then the long red lashes shading her eyes, not sure if it was some sort of sadness, but it was somber. An expression of loss.
I swallowed and cleared my throat. “It does sound like I missed an eventful dinner.”
“Eventful indeed, but in good spirits. That is what matters.”
Once again, I was left alone with my thoughts.
Looking up through the observatory glass, I could see the faint speckle of stars scattered in the expanse.
A stray cloud passed by every now and then as I watched.
I found myself entranced. Many hours could be wasted in the glass chamber within my flat.
I was thankful I was allowed to room alone, for I would need a place to escape if I couldn’t physically run from this place.
The urge to flee weighed heavily on me, the guilt curling around my chest and squeezing tight.
I was privileged to be in this situation, and my sacrifice would mean safety and security for my girls.
So why did it feel like this barter would eat away at me?
Retreating to my bedroom, I carried a candle with me to the bedside. The bed had a wooden canopy with heavy curtains gathered neatly together by rope, exposing the dark green sheets below.
Every new thing I found in my room caused a deep stain of dread.
Miscellaneous dried assortments decorated the walls next to old pictures in more expensive frames than previously.
There were French doors leading to a small balcony, adequate lighting for the artisan desk, larger than the one we had in the old house.
Of course, like everything else, it was brand new.
Not one scuff to mark its short lifetime.
Everything was more expensive, yet still personal.
Familiarity without history, making it just decor, not belongings.
I should be happy to have such material things. To not have to worry about choosing between food and finer living. The idea of being taken care of did not sit right with my soul, though; it utterly refused it.
“I can’t stand this,” I groaned, blowing out my candle before leaving my room.
Down on the second floor, I approached one of the wooden doors.
I had to step over a few bags and boxes as I approached.
I wanted to knock, but my body was screaming at me not to.
Many breaths were taken, and several scenarios crossed my mind, but I chose to ignore them.
I lifted my hand to knock but opted for the doorknob instead.
“I was wondering how long you were going to huff and puff out there.” Luka’s eyes never left his sketch pad.
“I would imagine you’d understand the need for a breather before interacting with you.”
“I don’t know why everyone keeps saying that.” He glanced up from his pad. “I think I am absolutely charming.”
He flashed a quick smirk.
He had taken a comfortable position against the headboard as he placed his bound paper down. His blood-filled eyes studied me from afar.
“Why are your eyes . . .”
“To see the colors.” He gestured to the array of different-colored oil pencils scattered on the bed.
“I thought that was an involuntary function.” I frowned.
“It is involuntary.” He started to grin, like some hungry dog. “Occurring at states of high stimulus, particularly arousal—”
“Enough! I do not need to be subjected to those images,” I huffed.
“You are the one who asked,” he laughed. “Something must be troubling you if you are coming to me for comfort.”
“It will be you seeking comfort when I’m finished.”
“Pardon?” He let out an exasperated laugh.
“I don’t like that you’re here.”
“I don’t imagine you do. But we do what’s best for our Nest, isn’t that right?” His eyes narrowed; his tone was playful, like a dare.
“You’re not allowed to feed on them. Touch them. Nothing.”
“And who decides that?”
“I do. And they will listen.”
He leaned back and nodded, as if to jumble the options around in his head.
“You are not allowed to feed here. Do I make myself clear?”
“Doesn’t seem fair, if you ask me.”
“The last thing you deserve is fair.”
“Fine, I’ll find my own food. Only because your mangy pack may upset my stomach,” he huffed, but the twitch of his mouth was like a sneer. “If you hate me so much,” he started, his eyes gliding over to land on me, “why am I not as dead as I was promised?”
“Because Viktor isn’t dead to me, and I haven’t decided whether or not your skills are worth keeping.”
“Oh?” he smirked.
“But,” I continued, “I don’t know if I can trust that we have similar goals in all of this.”
“My goal is survival. I don’t care much as to how. So if that means helping you, then it’s as simple as that. Do not confuse self-preservation with charity.”
“The only reason you are still alive is because you were requested to be here.”
“It must hurt to know they disregard your safety for their own, letting something so hated by you sleep in their beds and steal warmth from your hospitality.”
I straightened, glancing away.
“They don’t know, do they?”
“No. And they will never know.”
“What happened to not keeping secr—”
“Tell them, and I will make both sides of your face match.”
He was silent.
“If they want me to use you, I will. But as you made it painfully clear last time, you don’t take your job seriously. You take too many liberties. You are a liability more than you are an asset.”
Luka tipped his head back in annoyance. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“You know what.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“I am truly, deeply sorry that you fell for a mirage.”
“What you did to me was despicable.”
“That’s why I did it.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“You shouldn’t.” His expression did not change. “But you can trust that my motivations are the same as yours.”
“That’s not good enough. You’ve betrayed me once; you can do it again.”
“Alina, don’t be so childish.” He rolled his eyes.
“Think of it as if we are both diplomats. We both have people depending on us, and both parties need this deal to work in order to survive. As much as killing you would be fun, it would be terrible for business, and my head would surely be on a spit in return.”
“Then let’s hope you’ve learned that nippy dogs get put down.”
Luka spared me a look, which was painful without any words to break the intensity.
Those auburn eyes were so deep, I remembered the fear of falling for them.
I couldn’t tell how my words made him feel, but I hoped they made him feel something.
“Well, at least when you don’t dwell on the past, you can look to the future. You may be wise after all.”
Heat rose in my neck, a sickening rage steadily overflowing.
“Now you may spend more time planning on how to expand with the new resources that you have.”
“New resources?”
“Yes. I have ideas,” he started, “though I would like to let you hear them sometime if you will stop being so grim. I could help you with certain things.”
“Like what?”
“Well, I could poke around and see if we can sort out this corrupted issue.”
“Why?”
“Because your problems are my problems now.”
I turned my head to look at him, considering his words carefully. “What is it you want in return?”
“The return is that I get to be part of something new, and I get to be at the top of the chain.”
“I don’t know if I trust you to be anywhere near the top.”
“Get used to it, because it will come naturally with my close proximity to you,” he practically purred.
“You are foolish to think I would let that happen again.”
“A lot of talk from the girl who has barely made it through her first life—”
My foot was crossing the threshold before he could finish, the door slamming snug into its frame before I tucked myself against the wall.
I didn’t have to let him get to me, but lord knows he could.
The stress of alternating threats persisted around me, and I had no way of stopping it.
A proper conundrum. My chest would cave in if I kept it all bottled up, yet the glass of my body was heating fast, threatening to blow with every throttle.
The headaches of the past few weeks were enough to make my eyes feel like they were popping from my skull.
Even so, it must be kept tucked away as an interior struggle. It would only be for a bit longer; the dust had to settle soon. I just had to breathe, because being alive was enough resistance, and I had to find a way to tie all the fraying strings together.