Chapter 8
“O
h…. Little Mouse,” The water at my knees was ice cold, and I knew that if I didn’t get out of it soon, my legs would be no more. “I do like a chase.”
My clothes were drenched entirely, not just my pants. The water seeped through, leaving my skin numb, the sensation akin to tiny bites. With every step, the water became a relentless adversary, tugging at me, threatening to drag me back under its surface.
I could feel my muscles contract in an attempt to warm themselves, fighting against the numbing that was ready to make my legs completely useless. My breathing was becoming shallower, quicker as my body attempted to adapt to the freezing environment.
The river along the edge of my land was always a little frozen, but when it snowed, a thin layer of sleek ice formed atop it, making it even colder. My teeth were chattering, but I had to push through. I had to make it beyond the wards. There, I could be warm, and then I could run and call Illyan.
“I find your lack of faith in my ability to catch you quite painful.”
The slight incline in the river made me feel hope. I was making it across.
“Gods, you are incredible when wet.” When I felt relief from the stinging pain, a rough hand gripped my shirt collar and forcefully pulled me back.
There was no stopping me from tumbling backward, which sent me straight into the frozen river.
A surge of adrenaline, coupled with a sharp intake of breath was all I could muster before I was under.
The moment sent a shockwave of pain through me; any warmth my body had left was stolen, leaving me disoriented.
I tried to get up, but a hand pushed me to the bottom. My eyes burned as they opened, and above me, through the clear icy water, I could see Goddrick holding me under.
I let out a scream, bubbles marring my vision. The cold penetrated my skin, biting into my bones. My muscles tensed and sent every inch of me into a vibration.
Scratching at his hands was doing nothing but making his malignant smile grow even wider. The air in my lungs was depleting, and I felt my body turning to desperation, turning, and kicking. Fighting for the life I knew would be gone in mere seconds.
Finally, his hand moved to my neck and he lifted me straight out of the water. Once my lips felt the air, I sucked in a full breath, drinking it as though he would immediately submerge me again.
The freezing water and his overpowering presence stifled my desire to scream. Floating on the river’s surface, his thumb traced the contour of my jaw. “When will you learn you can’t ever escape me?” He asked, his voice filled with longing and frustration.
His hand moved from my throat, came under my neck, and he carried me back to land—Opposite my home, away from safety.
“Honestly, I may be sad when you finally decide to become mine and there is no longer a chase.”
My body was failing me. ‘Move your legs. Punch him. Run! Run!’ It didn’t matter. My mind was not connected to the rest of me. Everything was numb, and it was beyond just the cold. He had control over me at every turn.
“Dikos Mou.”
“Goddrick—no… please…”
“That damn no…”
As I was thrown to the floor, a cry of pain escaped me, and I felt my entire body shatter as if it were glass.
“I’m so grateful you turned my hourglass.” He was in my face then, my breathing erratic. “That you came to me.”
I want to wake up.
“Azahara, please, wake up.”
She sat in her window, her legs dangling from the ledge, with nothing but the sea below. The nightmare had torn her entirely from sleep, and after a fit of crying, she decided it wasn’t worth going back to it. The sun was beginning to kiss the horizon, and soon, the crew would be up and about.
With the return of her memories, more and more about Goddrick was coming to light.
None of these flashbacks were ones that she had ever written about, and she feared just how many more there were.
She imagined the lack of journaling them was due to how traumatic they would be to read, let alone relive as she was doing now.
There wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t ache, and she could swear the chill of the water was translating to her now. Her bones hurt, and it was all thanks to that piece of shit god.
As her mind drifted back to the nightmare, knocks rocked her door. While she looked, she didn’t move to open it. No one had come to her room since she boarded the Neptune, which made her curious enough to say, “Yes?”
“I’ve got strawberries.” If there had been one voice she desperately wanted to hear, it was his. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah, there isn’t a lock.” It was as though he already had his hand on the knob with how quickly the door opened after her approval.
Jayce strolled through, ducking so he wouldn’t knock his head, a basket of strawberries in hand. He wore black trousers and a loose-fit tunic with a few buttons undone at his chest.
She didn’t make a move to leave the window ledge but gave him a slight smile upon entering. “Thanks. That is a lot of strawberries for one person. Are you sharing with me?”
He hesitated as he approached the center of the room, visibly tense. It was a stark contrast to his usual, carefree demeanor. “Only if you want.” While his tone was always gentle towards her, now it seemed laced with worry on top of it.
Pulling her eyebrows together, she asked, “Everything okay?”
“I really should be asking you that question,” he didn’t approach further, and she slipped back inside, placing her feet firmly on the floor.
“Stop being cryptic,” she demanded.
Jayce put the basket down on the table and crossed the room to her, “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t understand why he was apologizing, “I should have come to see you yesterday.” Her head was shaking, and he must have seen that she was more confused than before. “Your hands.”
Fear gripped her from looking down at them, and the sensation of her throat tightening silenced her from asking why. Her body seized, nearly overtaking her ability to stay standing.
Finding the strength she didn’t realize she had available to her, she lifted her hands. Crimson liquid marred them both, and she stepped back in surprise. “What the…”
Turning around, she looked at the windowsill; broken pieces of wood splintered where her hands had been gripping. The poor window was done for if she kept going at her current rate.
She was met with Jayce’s hard chest when she stepped backward. “Let me see.” His voice was gentle, and she hated it. She wanted him to scold her for hurting herself and be angry at her for being so reckless the day before. Why was he so damn understanding?
She didn’t make a fuss, and instead turned around and placed her hands, palms up, into his. There was no pain, which concerned her more than the cuts themselves.
“What did the poor windowsill do to you?” He joked, the gentle expression returning to his dark complexion. His thumbs brushed the back of her hands, “Let’s clean these up before we touch the strawberries. I don’t like blood with my berries.”
She walked over to the sink, where he turned on the faucet. The water felt soothing, and she became aware of the warmth radiating from her palms. The cool, sweet sting of the water offered her much-needed relief.
“Thanks,” she went to turn the faucet off, but Jayce did it for her.
“Anything—“ He cleared his throat, “Don’t mention it.” He stepped away and moved towards the window, looking down at the damage she had caused.
Azahara held a towel between her hands, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. These minor cuts would be gone by midday, if not sooner.
She was at the strawberries, picking one up and popping it into her mouth, when Jayce took one and ate it.
“What did you mean,” she said between bites, covering her mouth so he wouldn’t see the berry mushing around in her mouth, “you should have come to see me yesterday? There is no obligation for you to see me. I’m not your responsibility or keeper.
” She swallowed, grabbing another one, but finishing her sentence before placing it into her mouth.
He leaned his head to the side, watching her. Why are you staring at me like that? She wondered, feeling her face starting to warm.
“Alyse said you were looking for me.”
“I was,” she confirmed, “but that doesn’t mean you have to see me. I was only going to thank you. For what you did for me.”
He nodded, grabbed the seat nearest the rounded table, and sat in it. Yes, please, make yourself comfortable. She made sure to keep the comment to herself. “I wanted to see you. I just—”
“You don’t need to give me a reason, Jayce.”
He grumbled something inaudible and crossed his leg, his elbow on the chair’s armrest while his chin rested in his palm.
Azahara turned away from him, and it wasn’t because of her heart doing flips or the butterflies in her stomach. Deep in her chest, it was crying out for relief. She never felt her body dying for water as if it were dehydrated because of a man.
After a deep breath, she looked back. His fingers pressed against his forehead, but his eyes stared at her between them.
“What?” She asked, her lips slightly parted as she waited impatiently for him to speak.
“You had a nightmare last night,” her heart dropped to her stomach. The color drained from her face immediately, and her hands looked for support.
“No,” she stammered, her voice shaky. “I mean, yes.” Before her hands could begin shaking, she placed them together. “I mean... it was a memory. Like the ones I mentioned before, the ones I fear not being able to overcome.”
The devastation that came over his face hurt her. The kind of pain that should have sent her to her knees. It nearly made her start to cry.
“It’s okay,” she lied, “I’m fine.”
She watched his chest rise as he inhaled deeply, “You are great at many things, Azahara, but lying is not one of them.” When he sighed, there was frustration behind it. “Who is Goddrick?”
Gods be damned. “Did I—”