Chapter 21 #2
Asher shifts closer to Jullia and tightens his own hold on her. The shifter does the same to Ricka, though his arm might be on her shoulders, his hand is stroking Hanna.
Curious.
My stomach flexes as Thorne leans closer and his lips trace against my ear. “Chew your food, Mavyn. Wouldn’t want you to choke.”
For absolutely no reason whatsoever, something lower than my stomach clenches. The strain on my body from forcing control wavers.
“Now finish your food. We have somewhere to be after this.”
His lips press into my temple before he stands up and leaves. The weight of his arm disappearing and I almost miss it.
My thing tugs to my left with a sorrowful pull and I know Callahan is hurt but I’m just. . . I. . .
I shove the vegetable into my mouth and then stab another piece of food with more force than needed.
Once again, there was no burning as Thorne touched me. I have half a mind to smack Callahan’s hand over my face to see if he’s the same. But I’m currently ignoring him, which is shit and I’m being a complete bitch about it, but I just need to focus on one thing right now.
Callahan ends up leaving when I’m halfway done and Jullia, Ricka, and Hanna immediately go off with questions, comments, and whatever else. I tune them out as I try to finish my food as fast as I can. I didn’t tell Jullia about what happened after we left our rooms in our costumes.
They all know I won the wish because that was announced on their social media site, but it’s not allowed for the wish maker to say their wish out loud. Depending on the wish it’s usually obvious for people to figure it out – wealth, beauty, brains – but I haven’t made my wish yet.
Another strain because wishes gifted are not meant to be held. Unless they have a containment, you shouldn’t hold onto a wish for more than a day. It’s like holding a star, and even the primordials have weakened to near mortals because of the strain.
That’s why I’ve been more preoccupied this week.
And also because part of me just wants to pretend everything going on doesn’t matter so I can just live a simple university life, graduate, and then laze around the brothel for the next ten years.
The other part of me wants to work out what exactly is going on between my celestials, the rebels, and everything else about me and my past.
I finish and jump out of my seat to head back to my dorm. I’m sure whatever Thorne is wanting he’ll either meet me there or stop me on my way.
What a giant freakin mess. All of this. Secrets and curses and fate and higher powers and I am so tired. I am so exhausted.
I wish I was angry. Anger is always better than exhaustion or depression. Rage is fuel, even if only for a time.
I’m about to step onto the path that leads to the dorms when a hand stakes around my waist and the scent of ozone and copper drifts before a flash of black. The buildings before me are replaced by rundown warehouses and streets covered in blanketed snow.
Shadows still drift as I push Thorne out of my hold and internally scream. I want to scream. I want to rage.
Rage.
Fury.
There are so many things going on in my brain, too many things. So much concentration and control and before it never mattered because I didn’t have to deal with any of this. I didn’t have to worry about spies and rebels and keeping secrets and broody males who wanted to know them.
I could forget about the past.
I could pretend I was nothing.
Not now though.
“Save that,” he drawls as he grabs my arm and begins pulling me into one of the buildings. Always drawling, always lazy, always entitled, always a fucking demon with their high fucking morality.
That’s why the witches hate them. It’s not just bone witches and blood demons that are instinctual enemies, it’s witches as a whole against demons as a whole. And with good fucking reason.
I try to jerk my arm out of his grasp but he pulls me in close and wraps his arms around me again. Warmth cascading throughout my body and for the smallest of seconds, the split-est moment of time, I want to relax into his hold. I want to drop all the weight and let him hold me.
I had done that last week in the ballroom. It was such a weak, pathetic moment for me, but god did it feel so good. Pretending for just that blip that I was just a normal girl and he was just a normal boy.
I can’t slip up again though, so I’m mentally preparing myself for the fight that is about to happen when he says, “I entered your name into the match for tonight’s fight.”
Well if he wanted to shut me up from the beginning he could have started with that.
I pull my head back and peer up at him. The corner of his lip ticks up as he gazes down at me.
“Darian said you need to fight.” He pauses for a moment and his eyes trace my face. “He said you need to fight with your arms and legs exposed.”
I think I might just regret asking that damned angel for help.
Looking away, I sigh. I’m sure he was connecting the dots too. Somehow, in certain circumstances, when they touch me it doesn’t burn. Maybe a loophole in the curse or. . . I sigh again, something to do with fate.
“How does being touched correlate to burning?”
Well, why don’t I just reveal every damned secret at this point. It seems like a losing battle trying not to say shit.
Placing my hands on his chest, I slowly push him away and he lets me. Not that, truthfully, he could stop me, but I can’t be touching those keys or doors within me.
“The sun devil,” I start, and he goes unnaturally still.
“He didn’t just curse me so when I’m exposed to the sun I burn like a regular vampire.
He also cursed my scars. When there is skin on skin contact it feels like burning.
” I shrug and cast my sight around. It looks like some sort of back alley or lot in the not so good part of the city.
“But I was able to tolerate it when I had constant exposure. My brain got numb to it, but I haven’t been touched since that sun devil so I asked Darian to help me. ”
“Have you asked Varian or Castiel about trying to break the runic curse?”
I glower at him and he looks away, the tops of his cheeks deepening. I focus on that for a moment before shaking my head and gesturing around.
“Pleasure and pain,” I continue, “was Darian’s plan, but him and you all touching me obviously isn’t working anymore. So is this the fight club everyone knows about but isn’t supposed to talk about?”
He clears his throat and nods towards a metal door. “There’s a lot more leeway and limits that can be pushed. You’ll get one non-bladed weapon to choose from, and the only rule is that you cannot use magic. It’s also preferred if you don’t kill anyone.”
He opens the door and there must have been some sort of silencing spell because heat and noise hits me like a tank.
There’s a bouncer of some sort who nods Thorne in and does a once over of me. “No kids.”
Thorne places his hand on the back of my neck and shadows consume me from the shoulders down. “She looks young for her age.”
I realize now Thorne isn’t in his uniform, and as I look around I do see some familiar faces but everyone is dressed in regular clothes. All of them shouting and cheering at the fight currently going on. I can’t see it, but I can smell and feel all the blood drenching this place.
The bouncer looks away and Thorne begins guiding me away from him and further into the warehouse looking space. All industrial, and through the gaps I can see we’re on a higher floor with the fight somewhere below us.
Thorne’s hands move to my waist and takes me towards the back where a door and stairway are.
“Locker rooms are downstairs and I have a sports bra and shorts for you to change into,” he says as we take two flights before we hit the ground level of this building.
He pushes me into another room and lockers line the walls with an area with shower heads.
He points to the only closed locker. “In there, I’ll be waiting just outside the door. ”
He turns to leave and I watch him slip out the door. Anticipation starts bubbling because I am really about to do this. I’m about to fight in an underground fight club where the only rule is no magic.
A smile curls onto my face as I head to the locker.
It feels just like home.