Chapter 3 Thayla
Thayla
Everyone’s voices are grating on my nerves, and I swear, if Yemi or Rose touch my arm again, I’m going to scream bloody murder.
The battle brewing in my mind is far harder to conquer than the one we faced minutes ago. Within seconds of us arriving back at the house, everyone came barreling in.
Lambrit, Yemi, Havar, Sevryn, and V. Seismet and Verlet are somewhere in the trees close by.
They’re all being supportive. Ready and willing to jump into this fight to go get Riven.
I want to scream that over my dead body will Yemi, Lambrit, Rose, or Havar be joining us, but my voice won’t work. If I speak out loud, something mean or ill-natured might come out.
My patience is wearing thin, and I’m straining not to flip my shit.
I ignorantly believed we’d be coming home, equipping ourselves to the brim with weapons, and then leaving once again.
From the bits and pieces of the conversations I can focus on while I pace, I learn that ambushing the Abandon takes more strategic planning than that.
The God of Obliteration isn’t just an evil waste of fucking space. He’s brilliant, smart, cunning, and always paranoid, which makes him always ready.
They warned me about this before, but I guess I didn’t take it seriously enough.
Every time I think we’re getting closer to a solid plan, Amick comes up with a counter that foils it.
“That won’t work,” he says for the umpteenth time.
I grip my roots and groan. “Gods, how much longer will this take?”
“As long as it needs to.”
Some unflattering noise comes out of my mouth as my hands slap against my thighs. Creed doesn’t bother glancing at me after his smart-ass remark. He keeps staring and shaking his head over the map of the Abandon, while muttering that it’s wrong. That’s pissing Amick off even more.
“Verlet, have you heard anything?”
“No, I’m sorry, Thayla. He’s still out of our range.”
Despite him delivering that unchanged news in a soft tone, I grit my teeth so hard my jaw cramps.
My stomach swirls, and I release a long exhale to calm my Chaos down. Every time I let a little more leak out, Havar and Lambrit shift uncomfortably, while Rose and Yemi attempt to touch me again, or they sniffle.
All of which I can’t take.
“V…anything?”
He sighs, and my fists clench at my sides. “He’s not responding.”
“So he spoke to you that one time, and then what? He stopped? Why would he do that? Why wouldn’t he keep communicating with us? Why wouldn’t he tell us where he is? Did you tell him we’re coming like I asked you to?”
“Yes, I did. He’s concentrating right now, Thayla. Just as you should. He’ll be okay until you all get to him.”
“Concentrating on what?”
He doesn’t respond, and the groan that leaves my lips is thunderous. The noise continues to echo into everyone else’s silence, and they turn their attention to me. I want to run out of the living room.
“Thay.”
“No, don’t Thay me, Lambrit, please. I know my attitude is shitty right now, and I’m sorry that everyone is facing the wrath of it. I’m trying my damnedest to settle it down.”
“I know that. I was going to suggest a walk to clear your head. That used to always help,” he mumbles.
I huff and nod at him. Yemi and Rose give me tight smiles as though they’re offering to come along. Granted, that’s endearing but also an awful idea.
Their tagging along and crying the whole time will make me lose the small thread of rational thinking I’m clinging to.
“That’s not a good idea. With her power reacting the way it is, she could accidentally stir up issues in the Godsdawn.”
As always, Amick’s words are straight to the point. With the turmoil, confusion, and overwhelming anger ripping through him, I—logically—know he doesn’t realize how brutal that sounded.
Illogically, I ball my fists and get ready to cuss him out.
“Everyone’s going to take a break. All of you go to Yemi’s or wherever. The three of us are going to the Court to get Creed’s updated maps of the Abandon. Thayla, stay here with V. Everyone meet back in thirty minutes.”
Kyzen doesn’t give anyone an opportunity to argue or agree. With nothing more than a quick kiss to my forehead, he stomps toward the front door.
Havar, Sevryn, and Lambrit follow right behind. As Yemi and Rose pass me, they give my forearm soft grips, and I hold my breath until the desire to peel my skin off goes away.
“We’ll be back,” Amick whispers as he grips my fingers when he walks by.
Creed says nothing as he cups my cheek and strokes my soul.
The silence that greets me after the door shuts makes my body heat.
My eyes close and my head twitches with the worries that rush through my mind. This isn’t at all what I wanted either.
“Would you like some company?”
“Shit,” I shriek, whirling around with my hand to my chest. “Damn it, Derivius. When did you come back?”
He leans against the counter, examining me from head to toe. There’s no teasing to be found in his blue eye and that makes my throat clog.
If the God of Chaos is fearful, my reaction is completely okay.
“Before you asked how much longer this was going to take. You’ve been a little distracted.”
“Yeah, you think?”
He hums as he pushes from the counter. His attention flicks toward Riven’s door briefly before he clears his throat.
“Chaos is a fragile balance, Thayla. Too much and the realm fractures. Our social structures collapse, minds unravel, and the noise drowns out meaning. Too little and the realm becomes stagnant. Growth halts, innovation dies, and the silence creeps into suffocation.”
“Yeah, well, what do you do when your mind is already unraveling and the silence is already suffocating?”
“You find balance. You find your own harmony.”
He graces me with a tender smile before disappearing in a flash of white.
So much for keeping me company, asshole.
Now that everyone is truly gone, my pacing extends from the fireplace all the way to the kitchen.
The silence is beyond suffocating.
I’m drowning in it.
It’d be one thing if I were observing how this is affecting the guys, but I feel the extreme emotions running through them. It makes it so much harder to separate my own feelings.
They’re falling apart, ripping me wide open right along with them.
It’s both a mercy and absolute misery that I can’t sense Riven.
“Oh gods.”
My breath of a whisper echoes through the kitchen as I splay my palms on the counter.
Flashes of the scars on his back assault my mind along with the scenarios I create about how he got them. His swirling blue and burgundy beg me to reach him.
My slap connects with a mug of cold coffee, and it sails across the kitchen, smashing into the cabinets. I choke back a scream when it doesn’t shatter like I needed it to.
I don’t understand how this happened.
What happened? I’m the one who tampered with the Binding.
Fuck…all he did was hold the thing.
Amick swears he did nothing, and I believe him.
No questions asked.
The only explanation my rattled mind can come up with is that the Binding itself absorbed his essence because of how much it was in his possession. He spent the most time with it.
Leave it to a creation of the gods to pull some shit like that.
Why did Riven…
Of all the questions I can ask right now, why Riven jumped in front of Amick is the easiest to answer. I don’t have to finish the thought. Despite their constant bickering, Riven loves and would protect Amick with his life.
It’s eating Amick alive that he did that for him.
“Would you like to go be with them? I can give them a heads-up that you’re coming.”
My chest rises as I force air into my lungs. The dark spots gradually fade from my eyes, and I shake my head. I can’t respond mentally to V, though. The thoughts are too loud.
“No. The last thing the Court needs is for me to walk in there. It would undoubtedly start a brawl. I’m going to embrace being alone and attempt to get this shit under control before they get back. I can’t sit here much longer.”
He hoots tenderly, and his power vibrates across my skin. He doesn’t strip these uncontrollable emotions away for me like I’d like, though.
“I’m here if you need anything.”
I give him what I can muster up of a smile, then turn toward my room.
My feet freeze in two steps.
I don’t want to go in there. The destruction of my bathroom comes to the forefront of my mind, and I see a repeat of that happening if I isolate myself in there.
I felt devastated that day. Therefore, my Chaos bled out as destruction.
Fuck.
The couch is too comfortable.
The dining chairs are too stationary.
My gaze roams over the guys’ doors, settling on Riven’s. The longing, anger, and desperate desire for one of his highly inappropriate jokes assault my chest.
I’ve kept my soul on a tight leash, not daring to let it stretch out to him since we left the Abandon. The last thing I want to do is tug his and there’s nothing he can do right now but sense it.
If he can sense it this far away.
My steps falter as I mindlessly make my way across the living room until I’m standing at his door.
The longer I stare, the heavier my lungs become. My nose burns from the tears building in my eyes, and that sets my heart ablaze.
“You asshole!”
My fists bash against his door as I let myself shatter. The echo of my rage bounces back to me from the emptiness of his room, and that eats me alive.
My body doesn’t slam into solid wood as I had planned. I fall right through, and my shrill is nothing more than a whisper in his space.
I freeze and devour every detail.
Their bedrooms are their spaces, and the only one I’ve spent time in is Amick’s. I’ve been in and out with quick glances at Kyzen’s and I barely approach Creed’s door.
This is the first time I’ve caught a glimpse of Riven’s space.
I should turn around and walk back out, but I can’t. My feet carry me forward two unsteady steps.
He’s everywhere.
Even without him standing here, I sense him. The room hums with his energy, wild and magnetic, like he might step out from one of the shadowed corners at any moment.
I can’t decide whether I’ve walked into brilliance or madness. Maybe both. The room is…chaos and harmony all at once, like it doesn’t know what it wants to be. The two collide as if they’re dancing together around the space.
Despite his eccentric personality, he’s never come off to me as messy. Plus, the self-cleaning system in these houses wouldn’t allow the floors to be piled high with nonsense. I didn’t envision him being organized either, though.
Which his room isn’t, but it is. Everything has a place.
It’s just a little random.
His walls are a rich dark blue, but hanging behind his bed is a massive painting that resembles a marble slab.
Paint streaks across the canvas like laughter—loud and playful—in a mix of burgundy and blue that matches his eyes. Thin glittery gold lines break the colors up.
His bed is half-made. One side is pressed to perfection. The other, his wrinkled crème sheet is slung and twisted around his dark burgundy comforter.
There are no windows, but there’s plenty of natural light. My head leans back against the door, and a watery sigh escapes me as I gaze out the tinted ceiling of glass. It takes me back to our room in the carriage he was so eager to show us.
He likes to look at the stars before he sleeps.
My knees shake as I approach his bed and press my nose to his pillow. The deep breath fills my lungs not only with his scent, but I swear, his Harmony surrounds me.
Not truly, but that’s the calm that settles across me.
I force myself to stand, although my desire is to crawl between his sheets.
A small laugh slips from my lips when I study his bookshelf that doesn’t actually hold a single book.
The sound instantly silences.
On the middle shelf is my statue head, and surrounding it are little trinkets I can but can’t really explain.
His shattered torch lamp sits in a pile with a wilting angel orchid sitting among its broken pieces. The only way I can imagine this is the same one is he had to have starshot it from the cave.
One small cluster of Angel Aura Amethysit, a vial of something purple, a cookie with a bite taken out of it, a mug that scarily resembles the one I threw at him and chipped, and I swear to fuck that’s one of my hair ties sitting there.
The entire shelf is dedicated, well…to me.
An altar.
My throat constricts.
It should be weird, maybe freak me out, but it sure as hell doesn’t.
This is my little psycho.
This is how he expresses himself. Expresses how he feels about me even if his ass won’t admit it plain as day.
There’s nothing plain about any of them, so I don’t know why I’d expect that.
I back away from the shelf until my foot catches on something sticking out from under his bed and I fall against his mattress with a small oomph.
I spend a blissful moment staring up at the clouds.
How can they be so peaceful while our lives are anything but that?
Get up, see what tripped you, and then you need to leave his room.
My cheeks puff out as I exhale sharply and make myself slide off his bed. I land right on top of the item, and glass clanks around underneath me.
I cock my head to the side as I stare at his half-hidden bag. This backpack’s like the one he wore to the cave, but I see that one sitting in the corner by a door that either leads to his closet or bathroom.
My eyes widen comically when I unzip it and find vials of who knows what, another two packs that would go around your waist with more random vialed shit, a couple of daggers, and a bag of snacks.
What the fuck, Riven?
Thank the Valories I didn’t crush whatever this is.
A snort escapes me, and I cover my mouth with the back of my hand. I can’t hold it in, though. A burst of laughter belts from my throat as I put the waist packs on, then the backpack.
I don’t have the first clue what this shit could be. It’s probably deadly, but it’s coming with us, and I’ll try to be careful with it.
He may need this to blow shit up when we find him.