Chapter 61
Sixty-one
Not ready to head back to the apartments, I make my way into the city without direction.
Unintentionally, I find myself in front of Brinn’s bakery.
Guilt edges its way into my conscience. I missed the last Children of the Constellation meeting.
Nudging the door open with my shoulder, I walk into the busy shop, making my way to the counter.
Brinn doesn’t notice me at first, her back turned as she prepares a beverage.
As soon as I catch her attention, she does a double take.
“Zellie! Oh my stars, your cheek! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just a sparring accident.” I wave her off.
“Let me get you something cold to put on that.”
Minutes later, I sit with a bag of ice against my face at a table with Brinn, warily observing me across the table. “What happened?” she asked.
“They’re having another ball.” I adjust the ice.
“The show must go on,” Brinn sighs, shaking her head with disgust.
“They don’t care, Brinn.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
I don’t want to hear the apology or to think of what she’s sorry for. “I don’t want to go.”
“I wouldn’t want to either. But…” She pauses, thinking, “It could be an excellent opportunity to make a statement.”
Make a statement or take action? I could do something. Hit them as hard as they hit me. “You think I should?”
“I think you should consider your position.” I hum, slumping back in my chair, the gears in my brain spinning.
“Zellie, what do you need? You look like shit.”
I fight back the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. “I need this to be over.” I’m going to lose it. I need to get out of here. “Keep me updated. Thank you for the ice.”
“We’re all here for you, Zellie.”
So everyone keeps telling me.
I reflect on my conversation with Brinn as I make the long walk back to my apartment.
The ball could be an opportunity to make a statement and raise awareness…
but it could also be an opportunity to be close to the Kosmos and attack.
For the first time since the fourth game, a smirk twists my lips as a plan hatches.
Orion is waiting at my apartment when I return. Catching sight of him, I exhale loudly, turning to close the door. “Save the lecture; I’ll go to the damned ball.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat. “Don’t you have somewhere better to be? Is your place not nicer than mine?”
“Much nicer, actually.” I roll my eyes.
“Why haven’t I seen it?”
“Why haven’t you asked?”
“You may want to start reorienting yourself with yours, seeing as how I’ll be gone in less than a month.”
“You won’t be gone. You’ll be right here beside me.”
“Playing the long game, Riri?” I regret the snide comment the second the words are out of my mouth.
Orion sticks his hands in his pockets as his features darken, his eyes glowing.
Leaning in close, his cheek brushes mine as he says, “I will play the long game for as long as I need to, Zellie. My feelings for you won’t change.
I don’t trust him. And when he hurts you—which he will—I will still be right here.
I will be here until the stars fall from the sky.
What we have is deeper than your petty quips; do not insult it again. Do you understand?”
My unfeeling interior quivers at his words. I swallow as Orion dips his head, his nose grazing mine. His voice a demanding purr, he adds, “I said, ‘Do you understand me?’”
“Yes,” I breathe, taking in air shakily as he backs away. This side of Orion is new and wholly unexpected. I think I like it.
“Good. I’ll have some dresses sent to you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I bring my hand to my mouth, trying to process why I’m so affected by his words. He’s wearing down my iciness, replacing it with something else entirely. That night is the first that I sleep soundly, waking to dry sheets and a rested soul.