Page 15 of Unmasked Prophecy

Leona turns her head slowly, glaring at Talon. “She belong to you, Steel?”

Talon’s eyes flash. “Remove. Your. Fuckin’. Hand.”

She does as she’s asked, releasing me and holding Talon’s eyes for a long moment before growling, “Teach your dog some manners.”

I don’t say anything, even though I really want to.

Instead, I keep moving, rushing down the stairs.

“Nia—”

I hold up a hand when Talon calls out to me, turning just enough to look up at him. “Don’t. I’m not your fucking problem, Talon.”

His eyes narrow. “Yeah, you are.”

I hate that, because it’s true. Every second I’m here, I am his problem.

“Well maybe I don’t want to be!” I snap. “Maybe I just want to be free of all of it.”

He stares at me, jaw clenched.

“I can’t do this,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t belong here. I don’t know the rules. One second I feel like maybe I’ve found something that isn’t chaos, and then the next I’m being shoved into a wall. I’m not part of this. I don’t want to be. I need to go.”

“Running won’t fix it. We’re the only people who can help you and you know it.”

I shake my head with a bitter laugh. “Maybe I don’t want to be fucking helped anymore.”

With that, I turn and walk away.

I don’t look back.

My feet hit the gravel with a force that feels almost punishing, like if I slam them hard enough into the earth, I can shake the feelings loose. But they cling. They always do. Shame. Rage. Hurt. The kind of pain that doesn’t make noise but still cuts so fucking deep it makes it hard to breathe.

I make it to the side of the clubhouse before my knees give out. I crouch down by the old, rusted water tank, hiding behind it like I’m a kid again—like I can disappear if I just get smallenough. My chest rises and falls in shallow, sharp bursts. I don’t belong here, and yet, I have nowhere to go.

Seeing Talon with that woman hurt.

It hurt in a way I can’t explain.

Why do I care?

I don’t even know him.

My fingers curl into the dirt.

I don’t hear her coming.

“Hey.”

I look up and see Mera, standing and staring down at me, a coffee mug in her hand, her expression careful but understanding.

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” she says softly, crouching next to me. “I saw what happened back there. Don’t worry about Leona, she’s a bitch.”

I scoff. “Maybe, but it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t belong here.”

Mera offers me the cup. I take it, even though my hands shake. Sipping it, I close my eyes and let the warm liquid rush down my throat, bringing me a small amount of comfort.

“You want to talk about it?” she asks.

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