Chapter 10 #2
“Thanks,” he murmurs quietly, but loud enough for me to hear.
“I like the quiet. What were you doing so late out anyway?” I shrug, looking through my squinted eyes.
I follow him with my gaze as he takes off his shirt.
“Didn’t know I had to explain myself where I was going?
Jealous I am with someone else?” He smirks at me.
I put the pillow on my head and let out a loud groan, but because of the pillow it sounds more like a moan.
I take the pillow of my head and feel my heart thunder in my ears.
Oops.
“I didn’t know taking my shirt off and scolding could make someone moan that loudly.
That is a first. Now be quiet or I will make you,” he teases me, throwing his shirt in my direction, but I duck on time.
I know he is joking but his eyes darken as I stare at him.
I wouldn’t hate it if he did. I blush but I know he can’t see.
Or maybe he is reading my thoughts and knows but I speak the words to make sure he does.
“Try me,” I purr, feeling completely out of breath.
“I will, but not tonight. You need to get some sleep.”
He annoys the fuck out of me right now. He lies down next to me, and I stare at him. He breaks our eye contact and turns around. Instead of slapping a pillow on his head, I decide to stay calm and collected.
“Goodnight, Brax. Hope you have some fluffy dreams about unicorns and rainbows.” I can’t help myself and smile. He lets out a heavy sigh.
“Goodnight, Eliane.”
Wait what? I sit up straight in the bed.
“How do you mean Eliane? You never call me that. No calling me Honey anymore, huh?”
I am so surprised by the feelings rushing through me, the words come out loud instead of speaking them through our bond.
“I thought you didn’t like that name.” He smirks out in my head.
I can hear him chuckle. He is right about that.
Could it be that he read my thoughts, felt the sting in my chest when he spoke those words?
But the words are doing something different to me as well.
I hate how the word honey start to change from pain to something else.
Hate how the word changes from the only memory of my parents to a word that reminds me of him.
A word I am almost looking forward to hear.
If it is coming from his lips at least. So maybe I am not starting to hate it more.
Maybe I am starting to like being called Honey.
“Well, maybe you’re right. But still, it is my nickname,” I mock, making him clear by putting emphasis on my, calming my self down as I switch back to mind speaking.
“Didn’t know you could be this bossy.” He sighs. “Well goodnight then, Honey.” I move my shoulders to make myself comfortable and can’t wipe this stupid grin off my face. I fall asleep before I can think of another good memory.
The red glory that her hair leaves when the sun shines on her, betrays where Hazel is. Besides, she isn’t hard to miss between the other eight candidates walking away. I haven’t informed Braxton that I am going to have a little chat with her. He doesn’t tell me anything, so I don’t owe him that.
“Hazel!” I call out to her. I wave my hand enthusiastically and feel the smile across my face spread fast as she turns to me with a twinkle in her eyes.
She walks closer to me and the excitement changes into tension.
Fuck, what am I going to say next? I look at the ground. What If I don’t meet her expectations?
“What is it?” she starts, smiling. I can feel the point of my ears turn red as I try to find the words.
My heart starts pounding fast and for a second it feels like I can’t control my nerves.
When I finally find the courage to look at her again, I laugh because she holds her head lopsided like a dog who tries to understand what you’re saying.
“I am sorry,” I whisper, waving the laugh away. “For not knowing I had a sister. If I knew I had, I would have come looking for you.” She wraps her arm around my shoulders.
“It is fine,” she answers. I hate the word fine, because it never covers the whole thing. “Our parents told me they had your memory erased and the last thing you would remember is our parents waving you goodbye. When they told me that, I knew I would make it my job to find you.”
The sun shines on our face, and a little breeze makes my golden blonde waves wiffle through the air. Hazel has her red hair on the top of her head in an easy bun. It is coppery red and somewhat reminiscent of a pomegranate. It looks fresh and sweet but also gives her a lot of character.
“Is this your natural hair color?” I chime in. She turns to me and has this funny look on her face. She smirks, holding her head tilted and one of her eyebrows raises.
“Of all the things you could have asked, you ask if this is my own hair color?” She chuckles.
I feel my face turn red and I stare down, not sure what to say.
It feels weird to talk to someone I should have known, but know nothing about.
“But yes, it is. How come you have this beautiful blonde hair that looks like it gives light and I am this red as a tomato?” she breaks in. I shrug and look up again.
“I don’t know. I believe it has something to do with my signet.”
She stares at me with a kind smile in her eyes, and relief washes over me.
This girl is doing fine and doesn’t hold any hatred toward me for not knowing about her.
As I start to relax, I take a closer look.
Besides her beautiful hair, she’s very pretty.
Her features are stronger than mine, but overall, our faces are similar.
She has freckles like me, and her eyes are brown, though with more of a hazel undertone.
There is no doubt about why our parents chose her name.
She is a bit shorter than me, but we have the same small athletic building.
She has some curves like me but not excessively.
I already know she is one year older than me.
She just turned nineteen and I will turn eighteen in a few days.
Her last name is the same as mine, but she must have changed it for these trials because at the introduction I didn’t hear Angevine rolling over her lips.
My questions build up as we walk further through the garden, towards the bridge and village.
I make a little cough before I ask the most bearing thing for me.
“How is life outside there?”
She looks at me. Beside her strong face she has something soft over her, something familiar. Maybe it is the first time I feel the thing they call a sister bond, like they talk about in the romance books I read. We are bonded through blood. She grabs my hands and warms them up.
“It is great. People are warm and nice,” she opens up, but something sad appears in her eyes, like she is hiding something from me.
I don’t push her as she looks down to the ground.
“It wasn’t always good. I always had the feeling I was missing something.
Because I was so young I didn’t remember the fact that I actually had a sister, but it always felt like there was someone missing.
Mom and Dad told me when I turned sixteen.
” She stays quiet for a few seconds and bites her tongue before continuing.
“They have been arguing a lot. I think it is because of their decision over you—over us, but they never talk to me about it. I am not the one to complain. We lived on Taploz and I could visit other cities whenever I wanted, and so I did. Friends would come with me too. I have been desperate to find you since I knew and started training too. I wanted to prepare for what I knew was coming,” she rattles out in one sigh.
I stare at her, and my mouth falls open.
“What?” She shrugs. Should I tell her?
“It is a family thing,” I conclude. “You rattle, I rattle. I think a lot—like I am always dreaming and lost in my mind. But it seems like no one did that too. But you do?” I breathe out. She gives me a petty smile.
“Yes, I do. Out of all of that you only got that we are alike?” she teases, pressing her fingers in my flank. “We are sisters after all.” I laugh at that.
“No, and that you have missed me before you knew I existed and that I really want to go out there,” I answer, nodding my head towards the village on the other side of the bridge. “I get more desperate every day to visit the outside world.”
“I promise you we’ll go there together after all of this, alright? I want to get to know you better, when we have the time for it, after all of this,” she promises me. I nod confidently.
“Now tell me what our parents’ names are?” I smile widely.
“Our mom’s name is Anisha and our dad’s name is Kyan Yakim.
Mom is blonde, more platinum than you, and Dad has brown hair,” she tells me.
I freeze for a bit. I have always wanted to know more about them, but now that she tells me about them it feels wrong.
My stomach turns upside down. She calls them by their name, and I know they are my parents too, but it doesn’t feel that way at all.
I already found my own father.
And knowing my biological parents’ names won’t change that.