Page 99 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire
“That is not true. And I told you, don’t worry about me.”
“Really? Because all I hear is you telling me I’m the worst one. How I need to accept how horrible I’m going to be at all of this. Like accepting it makes it any easier.”
“That’s not what I meant, Lyr,” he said gently. Once more, his hand reached forward, fingers flexing before resting on his knee. “I’m not trying to insult you. I know I sound harsh, but I’m trying to help. You have to trust me.”
I shook my head, wiping away tears. “Right. Help.”
“Please,” he groaned. “Can we not argue about semantics now?”
I shifted, and my tunic rubbed against my back. I hissed, crying out in pain, suddenly so dizzy. Every part of my body was aching.
Rhyan stiffened. “You’re hurt. Let’s take care of that first, and then we’ll—”
“I’m fine,” I said, automatically shifting my back away.
“You’re not fine.” He moved closer to me, his eyes roaming all over my body. Without warning, he leapt to his feet and circled around me.
I jumped, too, nearly falling over and turning to hide my back every time he moved. My sides were aching. My stomach was nauseated, and his circling was making me dizzy. “Stop it. Stop! I can take care of it myself.”
One eyebrow lifted in confusion. “Lyr, you just got the shit kicked out of you. Sit down and let me help.”
I was in pain. So much pain. But I couldn’t let him help me. I couldn’t let him see. What if he found my scars? My healing cuts? My faded bruises? What if he started to put two and two together?
As if I wasn’t suffering enough, fire raged through my wrist. The pain boiling inside my veins was a warning, a reminder of my oath and the consequences I faced if I ever, ever allowed the secrets of my family to be revealed.
Remember, remember, the scars seemed to speak in my mind in a strange, echoing voice.
I squeezed my wrist trying to numb the pain. I was about to be sick.
I give you my oath in blood. We four keep this secret. We four die by this secret.
“Just sit down. I’ll be gentle. Let me just see if you need any bandages anywhere. Then we’ll get you some ice.”
“Great,” I said. “And then you can run me ragged in training tomorrow and reopen every wound, deepen every bruise. I don’t think so.”
“There’s more to being a soturion than just magic strength. I want to show you. But…it also means taking care of your body. Especially when it’s injured.”
Everything inside of me was shaking, burning, raging with the secrets I carried, the secrets I was risking everything to protect. “Right,” I said. “But myself to Moriel, I sure as hell don’t need you to help me.” The fire felt like it was bursting through my arm, consuming me. If I didn’t get away from him soon, I was worried I might pass out from the pain. Fuck.
“Lyr, come on.”
So I said it—the one thing I knew would hurt him, would make him leave me alone.
“I don’t need your fucking help. Forsworn.”
His jaw clenched and nostrils flared. “Fine. Your grace.” He offered a mock bow and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
I sank onto the ground. The fire in my wrist stopped, the pain receding all at once. I was left with the guilt of what I’d said, how I’d treated Rhyan, and all the other injuries I’d suffered sprang to life.
A minute later, the door burst open. Rhyan dropped a bucket of ice on the floor. His eyes met mine, blazing with fury and something I couldn’t name.
I thought for a second he’d changed his mind—that he had read past my bluff and anger and embarrassment—but he only slammed the door a second time and disappeared.
I spent the rest of the night putting myself back together and making it back to my apartment.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
RHYANWASCOLDtome the next day. Or, rather, colder than usual. He didn’t invite me to stretch beside him before the morning run. And after my usual post-run vomiting, he didn’t wait around to see how I was doing. He just strolled back inside to the baths.
