Chapter 13 #3
A bang against the door filtered somewhere in my consciousness, but I was no longer in the present. I was locked in my own hell. Panic consumed me, pulled me down to its feral state, where I wanted to die. To feel relief. There I had power. Control over my life.
“Hey!” A figure fell onto his knees in front of me, hands grabbing for my fingers, tearing them from my bleeding chest. “Stop!”
Thrashing against him, I shrieked and spat, needing to breathe, needing to not feel like this.
“Wrennlyn!” My name pierced something in my gut, it was an order, a demand, withdrawing me slightly from my haze. “Calm down.” His hold was tight, wearing me out quickly, my shoulders slumping forward, my screams turning to erratic sobs. “Breathe, kanin.”
He clasped my face. “In and out. Slowly.”
My lungs obeyed, mimicking his, as I stared up at him.
The lamp flickered over his face. The stubble along his strong jaw took my attention to his mouth, mesmerized by the scar on his top lip.
I had always recognized somewhere that he was visibly very handsome, probably exceedingly desirable to the Night Raven women.
But I never let myself see it. Because he was a murderer, a kidnapper, an enemy to my people .
. . but mostly because I deemed him lower.
Someone I would never consider in relevance to my station.
Now I was the one marked with no importance.
The one who was considered property and sold like an animal.
“You tattooed me.” I sounded like a little girl who’d lost her innocence to the world, her eyes now open to the unfairness of life.
He swallowed, his gaze staying on mine. “I did,” he muttered, his thumb sliding over my chin, grazing my claw marks. “You would have gotten it eventually. The Night King would do the same.”
“You think that makes it better?”
He cleared his throat, dropping his hands from me. He reached around, picking up the rag and bowl, setting it next to him. Silently, he started to clean off the blood.
“What is the Night King going to do to me?” My voice small, I flinched as he dabbed at the scratch marks over my raw skin.
He inhaled through his nose.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know or won’t tell me?”
His nonanswer suggested the latter.
“But he needs me.”
“Seems the White Raven is in high demand for many.”
“Only for power.” I scowled.
“Everything is for power.” His gaze lifted to mine his irises layered with depth. “The moment you understand that is the moment you understand how this world works. You can wield it for yourself. No longer the pawn, kanin, but the queen.”
Our eyes latched together, the clout of his statement seizing the air around us. He was giving me insight, a way to fight back differently, understand the bigger game being played.
It made no sense. You didn’t help your enemy.
The room suddenly became very small, buzzing with something I couldn’t explain, aware of his closeness, his gentle touch on my skin.
“Hey!” A knock rattled the door, jolting me. “I need to get in and take a shit!”
The moment broke. He sat back, tossing the rag into the bowl. He rose up, his barrier set in place, his expression marred with irritation.
“Let’s go.” He didn’t wait for my hand, seizing my arm and yanking me back up to my feet. He bent over, picking up the discarded cloak. “I’ll fix the button later.” He huffed, opening the door and shoving past the barrel-chested man in the hall.
The stranger’s eyes widened in fear at seeing Onyx, stumbling back out of the brute’s way. His head snapped to me when I followed after, his eyes opening wider. His attention instantly went to the ink over my neck and chest and his fear shifted to desire.
A lustful smile grew over his mouth. “You are a pretty one.” He reached down, rubbing his crotch. “I’m sure your owner won’t mind if I fuck your throat for a few coins. Great way to start my da—”
A hand seized his throat and the man’s frame slammed against the wall, shaking the floor.
He was in no way small, yet Onyx’s size eclipsed his.
A deep growl vibrated the air. The Northerner was stacked with knives, but he didn’t bother using any of them.
He didn’t have to. I had seen him angry before, but this had me cowering back.
“I guess you don’t understand the rule of seeing my mark.
You touch what’s mine, you even look or breathe in her direction or are anywhere in her vicinity.
I will flay your lungs around your neck like a scarf.
” He slammed the man into the wall again, pulling up his sleeve, showing off a tattoo, his voice lowering to a deep rumble. “You know what I am. What I can do.”
“I’m—I’m sorry . . .I didn’t know.” The man’s voice quivered. “I promise, I won’t even look at her.”
“You better hold that promise, because I am not someone who gives second chances.” He shoved him harder, letting go. The man sagged against the wall. “You proposition any woman like that again, thrall or not, and I will find you. Understand me?”
“Y-ye-yes.” He nodded.
Onyx stood with his chest against the man’s before he huffed, stepping back.
The familiar nerve in his jaw twitching as he turned to me, scooping up my arm.
“Breakfast?” He guided me to the stairs. “I’m starving.”