Chapter 22
The walls are foreign. The smell of wood drifts to my nose as steam envelops the room. But I cannot seem to move away from my spot. I stand there, still staring at the closed door after Nykander left.
The events of the day still seem surreal. The fact that yesterday I was leading a simple life and now I no longer have a home. The fact that I thought that despite our differences, my family had some affection for me. But it all shattered in the blink of an eye.
Water flows down like a curtain from the shower head. I struggle with my clothes, the rips in my bodice making it hard to take the dress off swiftly. As I pull at the material, tears stab at my eyes.
“Agh!” I cry out and fling the tattered dress away from me.
Nestling under the warm jet of water, I slide to the floor and let the drops envelop me. They mingle with my tears until I can no longer differentiate which is which.
It took less than a second for my facade to crumble, but at least Nykander did not see me like this. A pathetic mess.
I don’t think I would have been able to deal with the pity in his eyes then.
Today was supposed to be just another normal day. Instead I woke up with my mother rummaging through my room, searching for any hidden coins. And she did find them. The money I’ve saved up for over ten years through my other jobs.
I’d known about our financial struggles at the restaurant for a while but I never thought they would be so dire as to rob their own daughter.
If they had asked me, I would have gladly given it to them.
I didn’t fight her. It was just money at the end of the day, even though I was indescribably disappointed, not only because she’d resort to theft, but also because those coins signified my hard work over the years—the ups and downs I suffered in silence.
They might not have been much—certainly not enough to cover the debt—but they were mine.
My security for the future since I knew I would never get married.
And once my brother got married; once my parents died, I knew I would have to rely on myself.
Like a dutiful daughter, I let them have the money, thinking it would save the restaurant.
The entire family went to Mr. Denos to pay some of the debt and ask for some relief until my parents raised the rest of the funds.
Instead, Mr. Denos laughed in our faces, declaring that a lifetime of work would never pay off the debt.
That’s when the second disappointment of the day occurred. To call it a disappointment is already not enough. It was pure heartbreak.
Without prompting, my father asked if anything else could make up for the debt, his eyes on me the entire time. Mr. Denos immediately understood his meaning, then laughed. I was too old. Not to his taste. But he would take me as payment for the interest: the rest of the debt still had to be paid.
I cried and begged my parents not to do it. But they did not budge.
“Think about your brother. He needs to get married and take over the restaurant. If not, our entire family is done for.”
What about me then? What about my own future?
But they did not care. I was not their heir. I was not that important, and therefore I was expendable.
The transaction done, my parents left. I tried to run, to scream, to fight. But it was all in vain. Mr. Denos’ guards easily restrained me.
If Nykander had not showed up when he did…
More tears fall down my cheeks, my sobs becoming uncontrollable.
Why would they do this to me? My own family… Why would they sell me as if I did not matter at all?
How come a stranger cared more about my safety than my own blood?
And to my eternal shame, no matter how thankful I am for his actions, I cannot bring myself to fully trust him. What if he has other things in mind? What if he wants to take advantage of me, too? Especially now that I’m living in his house.
Yet what is the alternative? I have nowhere else to go.
If he tries something… I don’t know if I can stop him.
No, no! Don’t think like that, Moe! He saved you, he wouldn’t…
But he’s a male, too. Not only that, but he is an immortal. With one snap of his fingers, he could have everything he wanted from me, and I would be helpless to do anything.
I should… I should leave. Yes. I need to leave. Find a job. The coins I kept should last me a fortnight for food and lodgings and in that time I could find employment.
For a moment, a spear of pain tears through me as I think of Nykander. He’s been so kind to me, and he’s going to be so disappointed in me. The thought of his reaction when he finds me gone makes me want to reconsider it.
But…
I’m not in a place to trust someone blindly. Not after everything that happened. And Nykander may have been nothing but nice to me, but doubts still linger.
Why would he go so far for someone he barely knows?
Why would he charge into a minefield to save me?
As much as I’d love to believe it’s from the kindness of his heart, I’ve lived long enough to know there’s no such thing as unconditional kindness.
Sooner or later he would want something else from me.
And if I’m honest to myself, it’s the thought of that moment coming, where he would decide to take me anyway that scares me the most. Not only because I would be helpless against him, but because once that happened there would be no turning back; there would be no forgetting or moving past it.
The moment that happened, my image of him would shatter forever, and I…
I’d rather keep him in my mind as the kind guy who gave me hope when everyone else let me down. I don’t think I could bear it if he, too, disappointed me.
My mind made up, I quickly wash and turn the water off before putting my clothes back on. Opening the door, I tiptoe around the hallway until I reach the room he gave me. Once inside, I change into another clean dress and pack everything else neatly in the bag.
Then I wait.
An hour goes by. Then two. Then three.
Finally, I no longer hear any noises around the house, so hopefully Nykander is asleep.
My heart is in my throat as I sneak out of the room and tiptoe around the hallway. I’m already trying to think of excuses to use in case he catches me, though none of them encompass the entire truth of the matter: that I’m a vulnerable female alone in the house with a male.
Just as I walk by his door, a sudden growl startles me. I jump up, scared out of my mind.
Frozen on the spot, I hear a few more noises: some sound like pained cries, while the others are guttural growls. Still, there’s no movement behind the door.
Perhaps he’s having a nightmare.
Yes, that’s it. He’s still sleeping, so I can slip away.
A few deep breaths later, I start moving again.
When I make it to the living room, I almost give myself a pat on the back for getting this far. Yet all throughout, the noises coming from Nykander’s room continue. Sometimes, they’re so loud, they resound through the entire house.
I glance back, pity and compassion fighting for supremacy in my chest.
What could he be dreaming of that is so bad? That he’s howling in pain?
Is it recurrent? Is this something that happens to him often?
I shouldn’t ask these questions. I don’t need to know the answer to them—it would only impact my already-made decision.
So I force myself to look forward and continue on my way.
Before I know it, I’ve opened the entrance door and exited the house.
I did it!
So why don’t I feel victorious?
My feet are glued to the ground, unable to move. Another pained cry echoes from the house. My heart flips in my chest, but it’s not from fear. It’s from…regret.
Suddenly, disappointment ricochets in my chest, and none of it is toward him—it’s toward me.
Here I am, stealthily trying to run away while the person who saved me is in pain.
He said he took something to enhance his strength, didn’t he? All to save me!
More images rush through my brain: the vials he took from Mr. Denos’ home.
That was Zantrax, wasn’t it? I’ve heard about it before: it gives normal people strange abilities but it’s always at the cost of their own health.
If he took something like that, for me, how could I leave while he’s suffering through the effects of that poison?
I stare into the distance, two choices before me.
I can go ahead with my plan and leave him and then attempt to forget everything about him.
Or, I can brave what the future might bring and stay; help him through his pain like he helped me.
The first choice will give me inner peace while my outside world will be in turmoil. The second, is the reverse.
My hands ball into fists and before I know it, my choice is made for me.
I re-enter the house. My bag of meager belongings falls to the ground. I don’t even go to my room to leave it there first. Instead, my feet gain speed as I charge toward his room just as his cries of pain intensify.
I swing the door open, my mouth parting in shock. He’s on the floor. The sheets in his bed are all scrambled around. He’s on his back, his chest rising and falling with difficulty.
Rushing to his side, I place my hand on his forehead. It’s burning up.
“Nykander,” I say, shaking his shoulders. “You have a fever. You need to wake up.”
He doesn’t reply or acknowledge my voice. He seems to be lost in his own world, struggling to even breathe. No matter how hard I shake or hit him, he doesn’t wake.
Think, Moe, think!
He might be an immortal, but even they are not safe from this type of temperature. His fever is too high. I must find a way to bring it down.
After rummaging through his cabinets, I find nothing remotely similar to medicine.
Damn it! That would be the fastest way to bring his fever down, but without it…
I quickly pour some cold water in a bowl and use a towel to dip it into it.
Placing it over his forehead, it only takes seconds for the heat from his skin to transfer onto the towel.