Chapter 7
Zayd
Sweet citrus, with the faintest hint of strawberries.
The scent surrounds me, teases me. Tries to lull me into a false sense of security that smells like home.
It takes an alarming amount of effort to drag myself out of dreamland, battling the edge of consciousness enough to finally win.
Once I peel my eyelids open, the sense of wrongness slowly creeps in, chasing away the fog of sleep.
Pressure on my back has me frowning in confusion, and when I see the blanket covering me, it only doubles.
Flashes of purple and that soft, enticing scent slip through my grasp like sand, no matter how much I try to cling to them.
It was only a dream.
But I can’t shake the feeling of rightness that came with it. Of soft touches that stole the pain away.
Memories clash with dreams, and it’s hard to tell which is which. But the more I gain my bearings, the more I notice… it doesn’t hurt to breathe anymore. Tentatively, I adjust my broken wing, but there isn’t the usual wave of fiery pain to accompany it.
She wasn’t a dream.
The thrill that shoots through me is quickly snuffed out by the realization that if it was real? It means I was so out of it that I let her get close enough to touch me. If it was anyone other than her, I’d be dead.
And I likely would’ve been if she hadn’t come to save me.
As I test my wing, I catch sight of a speckled brick that has me temporarily freezing before I pounce and scarf it down in two bites.
Gods, when was the last time I ate?
Another flash of purple and the soft, lilting sound of nondescript words trickles through my mind, accompanied by the satisfaction of food. She’s… kind. All soft touches and sweet scents, bringing me food when she should run far, far away from me. Soft things get hurt. Sweet things get crushed.
Everyone around me is in danger.
Slowly, I creep out of the shelter, and instantly regret it. The world before me is a frigid, icy wasteland. It’s a far cry from home, where it rarely ever snows. Here? It makes it brutally clear that I took the weather for granted.
I’ll never complain about harsh summers again.
The faint scent of blood orange and leather hits me and I stiffen, fur bristling as I brace for the next blow to come.
“Aww, is that all you’ve got for me?” A smack against my cheek until my vision clears.
“Come on, kitty, I thought you were some terrifying guardian, or some shit. Is this really all you can take?” Pain like I’ve never felt before wracks my body, back arching off of the metal table I’m strapped to.
“It’s not that hard. Tell me where to find it, and all the pain stops. ”
A few seconds pass before another wave of agony knocks me on my ass, and I retreat further into my mind to survive it. I can’t tell them. Even if I don’t survive this torture, I can’t. If he were to find them, gods only know what he’d do.
And I can’t let him get his hands on her either. If he realizes what she can do, his men will hunt her down and take her, too. Hurt her.
Leg trembling, I take the first step into the frigid wasteland, then another. Each footstep has me gaining more determination as I take off into the woods at the edge of town, ready to do whatever it takes to keep her off their radar.
Even if I don’t survive it this time.