Her gaze meets mine again, and she bites into another segment of fruit, chewing it while I chew on the way she’s looking at me—seeping enough hostility to make me feel utterly unwelcome. Perhaps if she saw the way Kaan sawed off Hock’s head while the male was still well and truly conscious, she wouldn’t be so concerned about me hurting his precious heart.
“Where is he?”
She swallows her mouthful, slicing another segment free. “Probably getting threaded back together. He got pretty messed up trying to save you from a life on your back, tits out with a belly full of some brute’s babe.”
My other brow lifts.
“Let me guess,” she continues, piercing the tip of her blade through the milky shard as she pops her hip against the door, looking me up and down, flourishing the weapon about like a pointer stick. “He took you to a quaint hut in the hills, cooked you a meal, then looked at you like he loves you more than life itself. So you ran away, fell down the waterfall, and ended up being stripped in a skull full of half-naked warriors?”
All the blood drains from my face. “How do you kno—”
“Because I’m magnificent. I’m also loyal, but intolerable when you get on my bad side.” She brings the blade to her mouth and snatches the piece of fruit with her teeth, chewing through it. “I’m yet to decide where you fall.”
Unfortunately for her, I don’t draw self-gratification from the acceptance of others. Not to mention I’m so fucking hungry I could eat a large mound of those strange juicy orbs of fruit, and hearing her crunch through its crispy, tart-smelling flesh is stirring a feral amount of jealousy I’m struggling to tame. I’ve never tasted one of those before, but the tingling nerves beneath my tongue are ready.
“You’d be amazed at how little that bothers me,” I mutter, tortured through another crunchy bite that almost has me leaping across the room and knocking the female out just to steal what’s left of it. “If you’re done pissing circles, feel free to show me the exit so I can exercise my newfound liberty of no longer being chained, bound, or pinned.”
I shoo her with my hand, but she just stares at me, head cocked to the side as she chews her fruit.
“Kaan was brought up constantly being told he’s not good enough. He’ll never admit it, but in his mind, he doesn’t deserve the honor of that being around your neck,” she says, waving her blade in the direction of Kaan’s málmr.
I don’t think she gets it—desperate times and all that.
He’s probably looking forward to getting it back.
Wearing a sharp smile, she says, “Break him again and I’ll break you.” She shoves off the door and swings it wide, fluidly stalking down the hall while her last words sink their teeth into my brain and gnaw.
“What do you mean again?” I snarl, stalking to the doorway, still white-knuckling the candlestick.
She keeps walking, just turning the corner at the end of the hall when a word bludgeons up my throat unchecked—my mouth shaping the sound as if from muscle memory alone.
“Veya!”
She stops, head turning—slow.
Precise.
Her wide-eyed stare collides with mine like salt to a raw, vulnerable wound that’s not on my body but within. On a portion of the shore lining my icy internal lake that’s not as high as it was before. That’s dropped a foot, leaving a ring of ebony stones achingly bare.
Maybe I’m seeing things? Maybe it was always like this?
“What did you just call me?”
Frowning, I rub my head, wondering who I’m confusing her with. Somebody, surely. Do I know a Veya? I must.
“Nothing. I don’t know. Go away, you’re hurting my head.”
My body must’ve gone into starvation mode, restricting blood flow to all my important bits.
Damn, I need food. And water.
She storms back down the hall, her eyes blazing embers. Tossing the core of her fruit on the ground, she bashes her hand against her chest as she bellows, “I’m Veya. Me. Do you remember me?”
My eyes almost roll out of my head.
Not this again.
“No. My brain just belched in the right direction. I’ve never seen you before in my life,” I mutter and slam the door in her face, clonking the lock into place. “Let’s chat again when you’ve learned how to share.”
There’s the sound of her boot colliding with the wood before she belts at the top of her lungs: “I’m going to work this out. You hear me? I’m going to work this out.”