Chapter 26 Thayla #3
My throat constricts and fear that I may suffocate sears through me when I can’t swallow down the lump.
Kyzen’s fingers rub circles against my skin.
“How do you know that?”
His touch recoils, and my leg jumps in reaction.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he whispers. His breath fans the sweat on my neck, and I repress my shiver. “We were put in those rooms for three days and sixteen hours.”
The blood in my veins freezes.
“What?”
“Almost a year in after we arrived, Gladian pushed us too hard in training one day. He got Amick on the ground, and we…reacted. I left that scar on him that goes down his face. First, Harriseen declared Gladian could whip us in retaliation, but Gladian refused, fearful of how our father would respond to that. So our punishment was those rooms.”
My lips tremble, as does everything else.
“Why…what’s the point of that room?”
“Fear is an extraordinary motivator. Enough of the emotion will have power reacting on its own. The point of those five rooms is to bring forth trauma and induce fear, so your power comes out to work with you. Harriseen uses the rooms to force those who don’t have control of their power to gain it in that moment,” Amick murmurs quietly but factually.
“That’s how long it took for our powers to come out. It was just enough to give him a glimpse of whether what Derivius wrote about our abilities was true or not,” Kyzen says.
“How…how long was I in there?”
“Twenty-four hours.”
A harsh exhale rips free from me.
For the Valories.
I never would’ve survived.
I still feel like I’m dying.
“My power came out?”
“Twenty-four hours is what Derivius negotiated for. Your power didn’t come out until we came into the room.”
Gods…when I attacked them.
A tremor shivers through my body and Kyzen tightens his hold. I lean into it. The desire for this to feel real—normal—overwhelms me.
“Why is it taking so long to shake this sensation?”
He hesitates, and I sense his tension bleeding through his grip.
“The longer you spend in isolation, the longer it’ll last.”
My bottom lip quivers when I meet Amick’s gaze.
“This is my fault?”
I flinch when they all bark no so loud, my ears ring.
“We’re sorry, little goddess,” Kyzen murmurs as he lays a kiss on my shoulder. “Nothing about any of this is your fault. You isolating yourself is completely normal and exactly what we did. We didn’t know we were making it worse for ourselves just as you didn’t know.”
I would’ve known had I let them in my room.
I didn’t want to face the fact it could’ve been fake.
I didn’t want them to laugh at me or leave me.
If I locked myself away first, they couldn’t lock me out.
You should’ve known better. How pathetic do you have to be not to know what is or isn’t real?
“Don’t. Don’t do that, Thayla. The blame you’re placing on yourself is obvious and we won’t allow it.”
A small ripple flows across my soul, and I beg Creed with my eyes not to tear through the knot. Not yet.
“Who else can I blame? You all? That makes no sense. If I had let you all in, you could’ve warned me. You all tried to…”
My breath whooshes out of me.
They tried to warn me.
I remember that.
They wanted V to tell me this truth, but our connection got cut off.
“Two days was when my Harmony really speared forward and took back control over my thoughts.”
The shakiness in Riven’s tone snatches my attention back to him. He isn’t looking at me, though. He’s looking at those black rings that are still around his wrists.
Why are they still there if this is real?
“Before that, though, none of us could’ve come face-to-face with one another.
There was anger lingering beneath the fear that would’ve lashed out and we would’ve killed one another.
Those first two days are the hardest not to react in the worst ways.
We didn’t discuss it, but we knew we wouldn’t push you for at least that long. ”
That truth has me gulping.
“I told myself whatever or whoever came through that door without my permission was going to die.”
They all nod.
Even Amick.
Riven finally picks his head up and he laces his fingers together.
“We weren’t going to force our way in or force you out. We coaxed gently and wanted you to hear each of us, and…everyone we thought you may have seen during your time in there.”
I really heard Lambrit and Yemi then.
“I wasn’t going to let you go past day two, though, because that’s when that paranoid, sort of strangling anger turned into a dangerous, depressing feeling. That’s when I started telling myself life would be better if it were just over.”
Hurt and horror stab through my heart.
I can’t say I haven’t had those thoughts, but they hadn’t become loud enough for me to cling to either.
“Riven was the one who broke through to me first around day four. He then went to Creed and I went to Amick. Even after we came to an unspoken agreement that this was reality, everything still felt wrong in a way. That lasted a few more days,” Kyzen admits.
Heat rushes through my body and my nails bite into my palms.
“I’ll still feel confused for a few more days?”
“Hopefully not. We want to be here for you through the rest of it.”
“We do,” Amick and Creed instantly agree, but it’s Riven’s grunt that catches me off guard.
“I do, but I also want to be completely honest with you. This is something that’s about to stick with you for a long, long time, Thayla. This isn’t the type of trauma you get to bury away and forget about it. It’s got a way of sneaking up and biting you in the ass when you least expect it.”
He flips his hands over repeatedly. The muscles in his jaw flex harder with every rotation.
“What is that?”
Amick and I share a glance as the question comes from both of us.
“This is a little parting gift from the God of Shadows. He left his mark before I took his life from him tonight.”
“You did what?” Amick asks, but Riven’s eyes never move from mine.
“You killed a Domain God?” I ask.
“I did. I did it with the intention that his power would never touch you again. Funny how things come back to bite you, huh?”
We both stare at the shadow links.
“How could you do something like that—”
“Don’t, Amick. I was with him. It’s what needed to be done and now it is. Those aren’t his shadows, Riven. They’re now yours. Their touch won’t hurt any of us.”
The conviction in Kyzen’s words has us all falling silent.
We all look at Riven.
Then they all glance at me.
Their gazes have a weight.
It smothers me in the best sort of way.
This is real, Thayla. This is happening in the moment.
They are real.
They are…
“Can I ask you all something?”
My small voice sends a bout of shame rolling through me. I shove it away as best as I can.
“Anything.”
They all say.
I breathe.
“Are all of you still mine?”
My face flames as none of them respond. The mortification that erupts through my chest is damn near unbearable. I shove Kyzen’s hands off me, only for him to wrap his arms around me tighter.
“Untie the knots, my endling.”
My head thrashes back and forth.
“No, I can’t. I can’t handle it.”
“You can and you will. Untie it.”
I grit my teeth at the command in Creed’s tone.
Just face it, Thayla.
Rip off the bandage and get it over with.
There’s nothing graceful about the way I tear through the knot that’s kept my emotions clogged in my chest and theirs beating at the barrier.
There’s nothing gentle about the gasp that steals my breath.
The ambush of them explodes across my heart and soul.
I drown in a flood of devotion, fierce loyalty, and possession of the most flattering degree. There’s a combination of the more normal emotions as well.
Anger, fear, relief.
There’s one that’s stronger than the rest. I’m almost too petrified to acknowledge it.
It hums through every drop of blood in my body. There’s no stopping its power as it lays waste to every doubt in my mind.
Undeniably, unmistakable, and unrestrained.
I cover my mouth to hold back the sound trying to escape me.
Breathe, Thayla.
In, out, in…
My ropes lash out in different directions, and I yank them to me. Their hands add to Kyzen’s unwavering touch.
Tremors wreak havoc on me as I try with all my might to fight back the truth thrusting its way up my throat.
A soul-splitting sob rips free as I crumble in their grasps.
Valories…
I love these men so fucking much it hurts.
Breaking in their arms is not the way I want to admit the hardest truth I’ve ever faced. To love not one, but all four of them so equally, so completely, is the most petrifying thing I’ve ever admitted to myself.
I’ve never loved like this. I didn’t even know I could feel something this strongly.
I have no clue how to say it or put it into words.
So I don’t.
I flood my slivers of soul with the ferocity of the emotion and break into a thousand pieces in their arms.
They—slow and steady—reassure and keep me glued together with each responding stroke.