Chapter 13 #2
I don’t know why I am attempting to bait him. Probably morbid curiosity, like standing on the edge of a cliff to look over, praying you don’t fall.
“It is not what I anticipated.” He pauses. His thoughts and unexpected reply cause me to crane my neck. “I’m not usually dragged around like a treasure to be traded.” The answer throws me off even more.
His voice seems strained when he speaks. I look up from my rummaging and train my eyes on him, chills skittering up my spine in the sudden change of his expression.
His jaw is clenched as if he’s in pain, but his fervent gaze still lingers on me. The walking must be wearing on him, perhaps the culling bands as well.
“Do you need … something?”
The strain in his face looks more pronounced now, and I realize I’ve stepped closer to him, away from Dahla and the barrier I subconsciously put between us.
“I need nothing.” His voice is venomous as he spits out his answer. He dons that mask of indifference again, forcing the pain away. I’ve seen it before but usually in my own reflection.
“You may be our prisoner, but I recognize some battles are not seen.”
He looks distant and hardened again, shut down. The sense of defiance lingers in the air.
I turn back to Dahla, looking for my dagger. Caym had said he found it during … whatever scuffle occurred when I was unconscious. The cool night breeze floats its way through the trees, spreading the scent of cedar and pine that seems to be charged by the moons’ presence.
My mind wanders as I search aimlessly in my saddle bags.
A stinging bite pierces my finger. I rip my hand from the bag and watch the bead form along my forefinger, until it grows enough to create a tiny river along my wrist. I place my thumb to my lip, and kiss away the evidence before Leeson somehow sees. .
My leather sheath was lost when I was taken, so I’m not able to strap the sharp steel to my thigh. Obviously this is my consequence of the blade feeling betrayed by its current home.
“By the moons’ light, damnit,” I mutter when I realize I cut further than I thought I had. I find it as irritating as The Devourer’s presence currently.
The crunch of a foot sliding across gravel and needles gathers my attention. The Devourer is tracking me with his serpentine eyes, raking his foot back and forth.
I’ve tried my best to ignore him altogether. Everytime I find myself too near him, I want to spend more and more time around him, hanging onto every action he makes. It’s sickening how I wait around for any insight as to what he truly is like.
I’m not sure what this thing is between us, but whatever it is, it’s beginning to really unsettle me.
I’m fairly certain it’s the idea of flirting with danger, things forbidden.
Or it’s the fact that I haven’t felt hands claim me in far too long, that’s definitely an easier explanation to swallow, at least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.
He watches me suck the coppery tang of hurt from my thumb, the green hue of his eyes practically glowing in the dark light around us.
In the distance I hear Caym and Leeson make their way back toward us, their soft whispers ceasing when they finally come into view.
Lees’ face transforms, becoming feline, her full lips curling up and her eyes settling on me. I watch her brow quirk up and her chin tilt. She’s always so damn observant.
Caym, on the other hand, looks as if he was just shoved into a pool of cold water. He levels a gaze at me, disapproval oozing out of him as if knowing I’m messing with fire by being so close to The Devourer.
“Alora, what are you doing?”Lee’s tone is playful, quizzical even.
My eyes snap back to her, leaving Caym’s stare to bore a hole in the side of my face.
“I was looking for my dagger.” The words snap out harsher than I mean so I quickly add, “I’ve just been feeling a little off and vulnerable since everything. I thought having it near me might chase away some of those feelings.”
Caym looks from me to our captive, his demeanor growing colder still.
“Is he bothering you?” The ice in Caym’s tone is like a bite of winter’s rigid teeth.
The Devourer stands tall, eyes locked on Caym, his face again set in stone, the only thing moving is the tick of his jaw. Again, the darkness seems to swallow him, surely just a trick of the light.
Silence fills the space again, only leaving the soft rasp of tree limbs swaying and scraping into each other.
The phantom breeze picks up and my skin begins to crawl again.
Perhaps we’ve stayed too long in this one spot of the woods.
We know better, especially when spirits are not often welcoming to those that linger.
Lees and I exchange a look.
“Oh for goddess’s sake.” She breaks the silence first. Her hand quickly catches Caym’s arm, jolting him from his stare down.
“He’s bound and chained in culling bands. He’s not going to hurt her. Give Alora more credit, she’s the real viper here, and we need to be moving our asses before the spirits decide we need an extended stay.”
I smile wickedly at my oldest friend, “That I am. You should know that best, Caym.”
He finally turns to me, face still serious.
“I failed you once. I can’t bear for that to happen again.” His voice softens to a whisper, meant only for me. “I can see you’re hiding pain from me, from Lees. I won’t force you to speak about what happened, but it’s taking everything in me to not just kill this fucker.”
My smile falls, slowly turning into the broken smile I usually reserve for myself in the mirror.
“You can’t carry on blaming yourself. You know that, right?” I whisper to Caym, Lees’ face turned from us, studying The Devourer.
The clouds shift over the moons, causing more shadows to form under and against the tree line. Horses begin to make restless sounds, their brays and snuffling beginning to increase.
“How can you of all people say that to me?” The bite of his words sting more than they should, but he’s right. I’ve never forgiven myself either for losing my family.
“Would it make you feel better knowing he hasn’t touched me?”
“I should think so, he’s the fucking Devourer. You know what his touch brings.” Supposedly.
The memory of him in the dungeon, my back against the wall and his hand inches from my face, surfaces. He had wanted to touch me but didn’t, but he did touch me on that scaffolding.
“You know what I mean. He wasn’t the one who wanted to hurt me.”
I can see it, Caym doesn’t believe me fully with his jaw set like a trap, but he does relax somewhat when he drops his shoulders. Leeson is still staring at The Devourer, the same smile plastered on her face.
“Is that right, Devourer?” I’m shocked she asked him the question.
My head swivels over to where the man still stands. I swallow in anticipation.
“I would prefer not to touch her, or hurt her in any way for that matter.”
Well ouch again. Deciding I’ve heard enough, I grab my dagger and a loose piece of leather strap and grab Dahla’s reins, eager to lead her away from where this strange conversation has led to. I turn my back and begin to walk.
“I wouldn’t touch her unless she wants me to.” The voice comes from behind me, quieter.
My spine stiffens and the heat in my belly spreads unexpectedly, though I blame it on the superstition of the spirits and that they’re bound to be observing us by now. I start walking quicker, not about to sit through this awkward encounter.
When I pass Lees, she gives me another look, one I pretend I don’t see.
I’m only a few steps away when I hear her low whistle. It’s not what she thinks it is. The reality is, he’s just saying that to get under my skin, to make us question who he is, but it doesn’t change anything.
He’s a traitor.
The Devourer.