Chapter 12 #2
I hear my name echo down the hall, but at this moment nothing else matters, only her.
I turn after I hear my name called a second time, hoping to hell Harold didn’t see anything between Catarina and me.
That he didn’t notice the way I looked at her, the way she looked at me.
I don’t want to walk away, but I know I have no choice.
I make my way over to him. “Your father wants to see you.” He stares at me like he’s already made up his mind about something. I look back at Cat and her expression has dropped back to the usual stone.
“Goddammit,” I groan under my breath. I had her—right here. I had her in my fucking hands. My steps echo through the hall as I stomp to Fenris’ study. I hear Melinda on the other side of the door and push Harold out of my way, walking around him.
“No he doesn’t, dear. Come here. I will speak with him.
No one defies god. He will obey. I had just hoped he would come to the conclusion naturally is all.
All is well, Melinda. I promise.” My temper flares just listening to her whine and Fenris’ attempt at comfort.
I throw open the door in no mood to let this conversation go any further.
He wants me to be a stronger leader, more in control, then so be it.
Melinda’s head whips around before her body does; it’s so fast I’m shocked at how she doesn’t just snap her neck. “Zedediah!” My name cuts through the air.
“She’s not a good bartering chip for you to be attempting to use,” I spit, locking my eyes with hers.
“If it’s power you’re after…” I drag my words out as I walk closer to them, feeling the ridges in the ram’s horn as I trace my pointer finger over it.
“Why not…” My words trail off and I nod at Fenris.
“I mean, he’s our leader.” I make certain to elongate the word, mocking him.
“If you want me, I’m sure you’d fare just fine with him. ”
She looks like she’s seen a ghost, all the color drains from her face. I watch her chin begin to tremble as Fenris stalks over, stopping when he makes it to her back. I see the exact moment she feels his presence inch behind her. Her face looks pained.
A shiver trails down my spine as his words drip with malice, and I imagine if the story of Eve was true—the serpent would sound precisely like the words he speaks.
“Would you like that, Melinda?” He brushes her hair behind her ear, and my stomach drops.
I force a smile, needing to seem as threatening as possible, even if that means offering Melinda up to Fenris for slaughter.
“You may leave, Melinda.” He smiles, his already pointy features sharpening further. “We can continue this discussion tonight, perhaps.”
Her head is lowered and she isn’t doing a good job of keeping her composure, but she forces out, “Yes, Fenris,” not daring to look at me before walking past me out the door, letting it shut loudly behind her.
The door has barely closed before he goes straight into the topic of discussion like what just happened didn’t exist.
“It is odd that you did not come straight to me when you returned. The fact that I had to send Harold after you is unacceptable. What, were you just dropping off your bags?”
My smile is forced, mocking even. “Yeah, that’s right.”
Fenris doesn’t buy it, his eyes narrow, scanning me like he’s searching for a crack in my story. He keeps his voice low. “What is the status of Rylan?”
My face stays neutral. “I didn’t see him.
I sat outside of the address you gave me.
Found a few other locations he may have been attached to online, so I staked outside of those, too.
But he wasn’t there.” I’m lying, and we both know it.
Fenris leans back, his eyes still locked on mine.
He doesn’t say anything right away, but his stare lingers.
His suspicion is apparent. The silence stretches between us, the weight of it thick.
“I see,” he says, his tone flat.
He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Do you really expect me to believe that? Tell me the truth.”
My gaze is steady as I meet his. “I don’t have a reason to lie.”
His eyes flicker, but I don’t care to read too closely.
Fenris’ jaw tightens but he doesn’t press further.
He knows I’m hiding something, but he also knows pushing me won’t get him anywhere.
He leans back, the tension in the room dissipating slightly.
His stare is dismissive, but I know better—it’s never that easy.
Plus, I’ve got my own questions. “So Brady pulled Catarina into your office today.” He steps closer, as if he is trying to corner me. “Why was Catarina crying in the hall?"
He narrows his eyes, so I do the same. He laughs.
“I had to correct her once more.” Seeing his smugness makes me clench my fists, and I have to resist the urge to strike him.
Taking a step back, I try to calm myself down as my hands clench at my sides.
I don’t acknowledge his statement, because I have more of my own.
I won’t let him control this conversation.
“What’s this about you talking to Melinda?” My eyebrows rise, and he stiffens. “Are you making promises you can’t keep? That seems a little dishonest."
A cold calculating smile stretches across his face, and it makes me want to rip his face off.
“I never promised her anything like that,” he says, but I know better.
“I had to present her with something. My heart was lonely, I needed comfort. So I offered her a bribe, for some attention in return.” I can tell from his tone that he’s so proud of himself, but I’m disgusted.
That’s not the story she told me, but I won’t tell him that.
There’s no need for me to; in the end we’re all playing the same game.
He scoffs at me when he realizes I don’t have anything to say to that.
“Don’t get all bent out of shape about it, Zedediah, he would have said no, anyway. ”
The smile on his face widens. “Because,” he draws out his sentence as if it’s some tension-building cinematic effect. “He’s already told me that Melinda is mine.”
My eyes say more than my mouth is able to, and he can see it.
“Keep one thing in mind, Zedediah. It is important that you do not turn your back on this fellowship. It is even more important that you do not turn your back on me—we wouldn’t want Catarina to suffer from the same fate as Lucy.
Now would we?” The threat hits me like a punch to the gut, but I don’t show it.
I fight the urge to kill him here and now.
Sure, I could. I’d like to. Even so, I know it’s not the right time.
Not yet, anyway. I brush the rogue strands of hair out of my face.
Gritting my teeth, I walk out of his office.
I may not know all of the answers swirling inside of my head—but one thing I do know is Catarina is mine, and I will walk through the depths of hell to be her savior.