Chapter 7 #2
“Why?” I shoved at his chest.
“None of your business.” He grunted, waving behind me. “I got you back home, princess.”
“That’s not the point!” Hurt laced around my vocals, fury flushing hotter through my veins. “Tell me why you would do that. You made me think I could trust you.”
“Your first mistake,” he growled, getting into my face. “Trust only yourself.”
“You are a vil—”
“Who’s there?” A spotlight came down, cutting off my words, trying to lock on the source. “We will shoot if you don’t identify yourself.”
“Better tell them who you are.” Warwick’s feral eyes blazed from the dark. “Be really tragic to get all the way home and be shot by your own people.”
“Identify yourself,” a man bellowed.
“Tell them,” Warwick huffed.
I heard boots hitting the cobbled street, guns cocked, ready to fire.
“But I . . .” I didn’t know exactly what I was going to say, but a sudden panic fluttered in my belly.
“Have the life you wanted, princess. He’s waiting for you.” He stepped back into the shadows.
My mouth parted. As angry as I was, I felt like he was ripping out a part of my soul, which made no sense.
He betrayed me. He was the reason I’d become Killian’s prisoner in the first place, but the thought of never seeing him again thumped my heart.
The moment he stepped back into my life woke me up, stirring me to action.
“Why?” Noise around me cut out to a dull hum. “Why did you come back for me?”
His emotionless eyes met mine, his jaw rolling.
Our gazes locked, and the sensation of him curling around me tightened my throat. I wanted to ask him so much more, to understand, but nothing came out, words meaningless as the intensity of his stare filled me with emotions I could not explain or define.
“You are home. Safe. Go to him.” Warwick’s voice nipped at the back of my neck, whipping my head to see who was behind me, though I knew no one was.
“Wait.” My legs stepped toward him as if they had already decided which way they were going to go.
The spotlight locked on me, freezing me in place.
“Brexley?” Disbelief and shock rang behind me from the gate.
“I was never here,” Warwick muttered right when my name rang through the night again. The familiarity of my name in a voice I knew so well broke my focus from Warwick.
“Brexley!” The boy I had loved almost all my life dropped his gun, running for me, his beautiful face ignited with utter joy and disbelief.
“Caden!” A surge of love at seeing my best friend again punched through my chest, my feet limping to him. His body collided with mine, a sob tearing from his throat as his arms went around me, pulling me into his chest, engulfing me.
“Oh, gods, Brex.” His voice cracked with heavy emotion, his grip on me so tight, his hands rubbing and touching me everywhere as if he wanted to make sure I was real. I didn’t care that my bones and wounds throbbed in protest. I could take this pain forever if it meant I had made it back to him.
“I thought you were dead . . .” He cried into my ear, tucking me in even tighter. “I can’t believe you are here. You’re real. I dreamed so many times you came back to me.”
My throat was too heavy with emotion; all I could do was sob, letting the months of agony, the torture and defensive walls, drop away. My shoulders sagged, my face burying into Caden’s chest.
“You’re truly here . . . I can’t believe it.” He kissed my temple, his body and scent so comfortable and familiar. “I was sure I had lost you forever.” Caden hiccupped, his hands kneading and caressing me.
My head lifted. “I’m here.”
“I don’t understand . . . H-how are you here? How is this possible? Where have you been?”
My neck twisted over my shoulder to where Warwick had been.
Gone.
But I still felt him, like a predator in the bushes, making my gaze dart around in search of him.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re home and safe. With me.” Caden circled his arm around my shoulders, pulling me toward the gate, kissing my cheek, not caring about how dirty and beat up I was.
I swore I could feel those predatory eyes burn into my back, demanding I turn to look once more.
Forget about him, Brex. He betrayed you. You are home. You are back where you are supposed to be.
The moment I stepped through the gate, the iron bars clanking shut, I pushed against the feel of him, slamming the door on him as well as the last few months of hell.
I wanted to put him behind me.
“Brexley!” Rebeka’s elegant figure ran for me, her exquisite dress swishing the floor, heels clicking the marble floors. Her glossy hair and perfect complexion were a juxtaposition against my scarred, bony, dirty carcass.
The opulence of the room also contrasted with the state of me.
Not a thing had changed from the last time I stepped through the doors of HDF, but I stared at everything like a stranger.
Every day of my life, I had walked through the main hall, growing numb to the decadence and riches.
One encrusted jewel in her dress or the gold used to paint the ceiling could feed a family in the Savage Lands for months.
“Oh, my dear girl. Where have you been?” Rebeka’s painted lips parted, her head shaking in disbelief as she peered at me.
Caden kept me tucked into his side, not ready to let go, even as his mother’s arms wrapped around me gently as if I would break and turn into dust on the rug.
“I cannot believe you are alive. We were all so heartbroken.” She quickly pulled back, a slight frown at my filthy clothes and face.
“My gods, what you must have been through.”
My mouth seemed to be sewn together. The surreality of being back, of my wish coming true, had not settled the way I imagined. I felt I was acting out a play. “It was . . .” I swallowed, memories of being beaten, tortured. Killing to survive. “Hell—”
“Well . . .” Rebeka’s hand went to my cheek, cutting me off, her expression back to perfect detachment. “That is no matter anymore. You are home and safe and can put all of it behind you.”
A stab of resentment burned between my ribs. It was the aristocratic way. Shove all the icky, uncomfortable things under the table, and pretend our lives were suited for our station. Stay pleasing, perfect, and uncomplicated.
She wouldn’t want to hear I had been whipped until my bones broke through my skin, my guts spilling onto the ground.
That I had been assaulted by guards and inmates, slept next to my own feces, or that I had been held in the fae lord’s palace for the last month.
Pretenses and lies held up our walls. She would not tolerate me speaking a word of it out loud. As if it never happened.
“You look awful. Too skinny now. Oh my, look at your skin, hands, and your hair.” She sucked in, then shook her head, swishing her hand.
“Nothing a mask and deep conditioner won’t solve.
” She touched my knotted, dry strands, tears glistening her eyes.
“We must get you into a bath right away.” She clicked her fingers at a servant.
“Retrieve Maja. Have her get a bath ready.”
“Mother . . .” Caden’s hand rubbed my arm. “Give Brexley a moment. She just got back.”
We all turned at the sound of noise in the hallway and found Istvan striding into the room. Dressed in his uniform, the medals dancing on his chest, his gaze found mine, his eyes widening as if he’d seen a ghost, his feet coming to a slow stop.
“Brexley?” The man who had raised me for the last six years, never showing an ounce of emotion, gaped at me as though overcome. “I heard, but I did not believe it.” He strolled cautiously up to me. “You are back . . .”
It felt like an odd thing to say, but Istvan wasn’t good at showing emotions.
“You are all right?” His scrutiny jumped around my figure, his firm, familiar tone back in place.
“Yes.”
He cleared his throat with a nod. He stepped up to me, his brow furrowing as if he didn’t know how to respond to my return.
Finally, he leaned over, curtly kissing my cheek.
“It is so good to have you home and safe. We all feared the worst. This is extraordinary . . .” He rolled his shoulders, regaining his posture. “Glad to know you’re all right.”
“Thank you,” I muttered, so quietly I barely heard myself.
“It’s been months. Caden said he saw you get shot. Where have you been this whole time?”
For some reason, my mouth wouldn’t move.
“Father . . .” Caden warned. “She just got home.”
“Enemies won’t wait for her to take a bath. I need to know if we are under threat. What she knows. Where’s she been. I need a full debriefing right now.”
“No.” Caden pushed out his chest, his arm coming around me tighter.
“No?” Istvan’s eyebrow went up.
“She’s been through so much. Let her settle in. I’m sure she’d love to have a bath. Something to eat. Relax.”
I was in a bath less than an hour ago . . . in Lord Killian’s guest room.
Now I was home.
My head was having trouble wrapping around the sharp turn of events.
“Istvan.” Rebeka touched his arm, taking his glare off his son. “She’s not one of your subordinates. She’s family.”
“She’s one of my soldiers,” he snapped at his wife.
Rebeka pulled her arm away, her mouth pinching.
He took a deep breath, looking back at me.
“Brexley understands the importance of questioning. She is a soldier first. Duty and honor. The smallest thing could be vital to our fight, isn’t that right? ”
I dipped my head.
“Please, Istvan. She’s like our daughter.”
A daughter they had sold for marriage to align two countries and gain more power.
He pinched his nose, inhaling. “You get an hour. I will send the doctor to your room, and after you refresh, please come to my office.”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded. The words came off my tongue robotically.
“Good girl.” A rare smile hinted on Istvan’s mouth, his palm squeezing my shoulder. “I knew you would. You always understood the importance of warfare. The tiniest thing could tip it in our favor.”
My mouth pinned in forced agreement.
“I will send Dr. Karl to check you out now.” He patted my arm again coldly. “So happy you are home.” He dipped his head, turning and striding across the room toward his office.
Caden huffed, shaking his head in aggravation, but the moment his eyes came back to me, they lit up with affection and happiness, pulling me into his chest. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned and fed.”