Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Bokkan
The little female was struggling. I could see it in every line of her body. Her muscles were tense. Her breathing was light and fast. And a fine tremor made the fork in her hand vibrate.
I wasn’t familiar with humans, but I’d seen reactions like this from my soldiers before. Usually after battle, when the fire in their blood was fading and they realized how close they’d come to dying. When the realities of war crashed down on them.
The tiny human had been so fierce since the moment I saw her that I assumed she wouldn’t experience the drop. Her demeanor was that of a warrior and, because of it, I’d underestimated the effect her new circumstances were having on her.
Once she drained her cup of szite and ate a few bites of the food on her plate, Leda laid her fork to the side and clasped her hands in her lap. I watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. As she released it, the air in her lungs seemed to sputter.
Knowing what was coming, I dropped my fork on my mostly full plate and shoved it all to the side.
I’d already started to push back my chair when she released a low noise that raised chills on my skin.
It was mournful and full of fear. Her hands rose to her face, fingers and palms covered her feature, hiding her expression from me.
Her shoulders heaved and rounded as she sucked in more air.
It sounded as though she was choking on it.
I was around the table, plucking her up into my arms, before she released the first harsh sob. The sound hurt me, slicing through my gut like a poisoned blade and leaving behind nothing but the fiery pain of a wound that would never heal properly.
Masu’s eyes were on us as I carried the small human out of the kitchen, her face set in lines of compassion.
I didn’t speak as I walked through the house to the sanctum, where I prepared for battles.
Where I went to center myself when I needed peace.
Where I would gather my thoughts when I had a problem to puzzle my way through.
It was a place of release and path to serenity.
Daemon warriors needed both. If we needed to cry or rage, it was within the confines of our sanctum. If we needed silence, that was also where it could be found.
Most daemon homes had them, even if they were small.
Witches and mages used their sanctums as a place to focus their magic, to refine their spells.
Some daemons used them as a place of prayer and to connect with the gods.
Others were like me—finding peace and focus in the dim quiet confines of this room.
A sanctum was a place where we were truly free to be ourselves, to experience our emotions fully, so that we could face the world with a balanced heart and mind.
Leda’s body bucked against my chest as she choked on another sob. The spasms were so intense I worried she wouldn’t be able to breathe if she didn’t regain control. I hurried inside and shut the door behind me.
The room was dark, lit only by a few candles. There was one window, but it was covered by a heavy curtain to keep the light and chill out.
I moved to the cushioned corner and sat on the soft surface, crossing my legs so that Leda was sitting in the cradle of my lap. I wrapped both arms around her then, pressing her head against my chest. Her hair smelled like my soap. Like me.
The mating instincts I’d been fighting earlier reared their head, but this time I wasn’t worried about trying to chase her down and mounting her like a feral beast. Those instincts were screaming at me to soothe her, to make her feel safe.
I cupped the back of her head with one hand, cradling her face against my body, but she still bucked against me, the sounds of her sobs painful, as though they were being torn from her throat.
Desperate, I pulled her slightly away from my body and used my hold on her head to tilt her chin up so that I could see her face. Her eyes were closed but tears shone on her cheeks and the area around her eyes was swollen and red.
“Look at me,” I demanded. I tried to keep my voice gentle, soft, but knew I failed when she flinched. My chest ached as though I’d been kicked by a horse. I took a deep breath, reaching for the words I needed, hoping they would be the right ones. “Please, Leda. Look at me.”
She took a harsh breath, but her eyes opened and met mine.
I wondered if humans all had different colored eyes.
Daemons only had black and imps might have red or yellow, but that was it.
Leda’s eyes were a tawny brown with streaks of gold spiking out around the black centers.
Those golden streaks gave her gaze a piercing quality most of the time.
They were beautiful, whether she was smiling or scowling. Or, like right now, crying.
In the shadows of the sanctum, her eyes were darker, and the whites surrounding the brown were becoming red.
“Breathe with me, little one,” I commanded. “Match your breaths to mine.”
When she blinked at me, her gaze growing more focused, I took a slow, deep breath. Her own breathing hitched a few times as she tried to follow my lead, but she was listening now.
I released a slow stream of air, listening as she did the same. “You are safe here. I vow I will let no harm come to you. It may not happen right away, but you will get home, Leda. I will make sure of it.”
I had all of her attention now. I could feel the weight of it as she stared directly into my eyes, unflinching and barely blinking.
“Breathe with me again,” I said.
This time, there was no stutter in her breath. Only a long, deep inhale and a steady, soft exhale. I guided her through several more breaths before I slowly released my hold on her head, my thumbs gently brushing away the tears drying on her cheeks.
“Are you calm now?” I asked.
She nodded and let go of my wrists. I hadn’t realized she had grasped ahold of me as tightly as I held her. Once her touch was gone, I immediately wanted it back.
I expected her to move away, to climb off my lap. She was so careful to keep space between us last night and this morning, too distrustful to be within my arm’s reach.
Now, she was perched on my lap as though she belonged there.
“I’m okay,” she rasped, her voice hoarse from crying. She glanced around. “Where are we?”
“This is my sanctum.”
Her gaze met mine, and she didn’t move from my lap as she asked, “What’s that?”
“Most daemon homes have them. It’s different for each of us. Some use it as a place of focus, of improvement. Others use it as a place for prayer. It’s meant to be a space where a daemon can truly be themselves. A place of peace.”
Her eyes took in the dim lighting and the soft surfaces of the room. “What do you use this room for?”
“I come here before a battle. Or when I have a problem to solve. Or when my emotions become too much.”
She huffed out a quiet laugh. “Are you saying you come here to cry?”
“I have,” I admitted.
Leda stilled, her eyes locked on me. Her stare was searching and, for the first time, unguarded.
“I hoped it would give you the quiet you needed to reach acceptance.”
“Acceptance? I’m not sure I can ever accept that I’m stuck here.”
I squeezed her waist gently with my hands, trying to ignore how small and delicate she felt in my grasp.
Those thoughts would only spur on the whispers in my mind.
“That is not what I said. Just acceptance of your current circumstances. Once you have gained calm and clarity, you will be able to decide what you do next.”
Her expression blanked for a moment, as though my words took her off guard. When she refocused on me, her eyes grew warm. I couldn’t help myself. My thumbs stroked her cheeks. Her skin was soft and smooth.
She felt fragile beneath my touch even though I knew she was anything but weak.
My eyes moved over her face, drinking in the sight of her, and she leaned toward me infinitesimally. Her lips parted and, for a breathless moment, I wondered if she was about to kiss me.
Until someone pounded on the door.
Leda gasped and jerked back. My grip on her waist was the only thing that kept her from falling backward off my lap.
I sighed and gently set her to the side before I got to my feet and walked to the door. When I opened it, I scowled at Guldan.
“Is there a problem?” I asked, unable to keep the growl out of my voice.
“Venna has arrived with a contingent of guards.”
“Tell her I’m not receiving visitors,” I said, preparing to shut the door and go back to Leda.
“She heard about your guest.”
My skin grew hot. “What?”
“She’s insisting that she see you.”
Shit. I couldn’t afford to alienate her. Her estate bordered mine. She could make my life extremely difficult if I pissed her off.
“Damn,” I grumbled to myself.
“Is everything okay?” Leda asked.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw that she was now standing behind me. Her eyes were still swollen and pinkish around the edges. The tip of her nose was red. She looked small and lost. My protective instincts surged, even as I hated the sight of her defeat.
“Yes,” I answered. “All is well. It seems my neighbor has come visiting unexpectedly. You should remain here and relax while I speak with her.”
“Her?” Leda asked.
There was a strange tone in her voice. I didn’t know what it was, but it sent a prickle down the back of my neck. I recognized that feeling. It was a warning. I needed to be very, very careful.
The voices outside were getting closer. When I moved to step into the hall, Leda stayed right behind me.
I didn’t bother to try to convince her to remain in the sanctum.
I was beginning to understand her. She was stubborn and rarely backed down.
The storm she’d just weathered would likely be the only time she let herself lose control of her emotions.
Asking her to wait would only make her dig in her heels, so I didn’t bother. Instead, I walked to the front door of the manor with Guldan and threw it open. The sun was bright as we stepped outside.