Chapter 18
POV: Sorsha
I spent the afternoon doing laundry, completely astonished when I saw the wash line. The sisal had hooks with matching ones in the wood, so when there wasn’t any washing, you could remove the rope that cut the backyard in half.
I guessed this was done so Callum and his father could spar without hindrance.
Callum was bathing, and my mind went back to dabbing ointment on his chest, wondering if I should do it again. He was really muscular, and I remembered what that woman at Wayfarers — Helen — had said. Callum never went near any of them. The thought made me smile.
I knew what happened between a man and a woman. Ryan and I had once caught my parents, and it had shocked me to the core. My father’s slack face and my mother’s tightly closed eyes turned away from him while he pounded into her.
It didn’t look like she enjoyed these moments, yet after kissing Callum, something on the inside, deep in my stomach, had reared its head like a snake, and a hot feeling had rushed through me.
Back in the kitchen, I opened every drawer looking for a cloth to dust the lounge, and stopped when I saw the tea. Biting my lip, I listened to the splash of water coming from the tub. I just wanted to know how it tasted and how it worked.
Not bothering with the perforated ball, I dropped in a dose of tea leaves and poured water into the mug.
The water turned yellow, I took a small sip and almost spat it out — it was so bitter. Fumbling for the sugar cane, I dropped two pieces into the tea, wondering why Callum would ever drink something so vile.
Stirring it, I took a sip. Much better.
I gulped the rest, then rushed outside to wash the mug and hide the evidence.
Once that was done, I grabbed the dishtowel and dusted the armrests in the lounge. Feeling a little tired, I sat down to finish, then stretched out and swung both legs over the backrest. Letting my head hang over the side of the cushion, I giggled.
Oh, this was a wonderful feeling. I stretched my arms wide and closed my eyes.
I’d drink that tea every damn day.
I giggled at my choice of words.
I felt so lazy, so comfortable. Even breathing seemed like too much effort…
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I tried to scream when the water hit me — cold, ice-cold. I was shoved under, then yanked back up again.
“Sorsha!” Callum shouted, shaking me.
I blinked, but my vision was strangely blurry.
“Mmm,” I managed, my mouth numb, unwilling to form words.
“Drink this.”
My mouth was forced open, and water poured down my throat. So strange — the water just ran down, I didn’t even have to swallow. My hands brushed against something icy, and a shiver rippled through me.
“More,” he ordered, and water filled my mouth again.
And then he dunked me again.
I came up gasping, folding my arms across my chest. Two ice blocks floated in the water. No wonder it was so cold.
But what was he doing?
Trying to drown me.
“You drank my tea, didn’t you?”
Oh yes, I had done that — but it was no reason to punish me like this.
“P-p-please don’t d-d-drown me,” I stammered, shivering so hard my teeth chattered. Even then, all I wanted was to close my eyes and sleep.
“Fuck,” he swore, and dunked me again before ripping me out of the tub.
I couldn’t stand. I collapsed against him and burrowed deeper into the warmth. He undressed me, and I tried to stop him, but my limbs wouldn’t work properly.
“N-n-no,” I choked out.
Throwing me over his shoulder, he ran to my room, sat me on the bed, and yanked my nightclothes over my head. I sagged against him, but not for long. He pulled me upright, hooked an arm under my shoulders, and said, “Walk.”
I didn’t want to. I kept stumbling, but he refused to let me sleep, torturing me in the most hellish way.
So petty to punish me for drinking his tea.
“Please,” I begged. “No more.”
“Your breathing’s still uneven. We’ll walk until it’s normal,” he chided. “What possessed you? I told you it’s not suitable. It’s not just tea — there’s something in it to calm a berserker. Something very strong.”
I lifted my head and blinked at him. “Whasit?” I slurred.
“It’s laced with poppy. Calms me enough to keep the rage at bay. But you—” his jaw tightened, “you’re too small. A cupful could stop your breathing permanently. You could have died, Sorsha.”
I tried to understand, but it was all too much, and my head dropped to my chest.
“You don’t have berserker blood, little angel,” he said softly.
We walked up and down the hallway, again and again, until I lost count. Time blurred — minutes, maybe hours — all I knew was the steady drag of his arm keeping me upright.
He kept talking to me, filling the silence with questions, with words I barely heard. It grated on me, more and more, until the sound of his voice was as irritating as the weight in my legs.
I was so tired. Bone-deep tired.
Much later, when he was satisfied with my breathing, he picked me up and carried me to bed. I closed my eyes in bliss — only to be pulled against his chest. Warm, yes, but nowhere near as soft as the bed.
I blinked once, then again. The room felt unfamiliar, but I was too far gone to care as darkness claimed me.
I dreamed of my mother, her slender hands combing through my hair while she hummed a long-forgotten tune.
“Mom?”
She didn’t look gaunt the way she had before she died. She looked alive and beautiful, her hair arranged neatly, tendrils escaping down the sides. Her brown eyes shone with love and light.
“Hello, sweet pea.”
“You’re dead,” I said with a frown.
“Yes. But thankfully you’re not.”
I giggled. “Just drank some tea.”
“I know, and Mabel is not happy with you.”
I turned when I heard an unfamiliar voice behind me. “I want to stay here, so don’t do any stupid things, okay?” Mabel said, chewing hay.