Page 52 of The Cannibal

Alina turned with the cloth in her hand, her posture straight as her eyes narrowed on me. The ice of her eyes was enough to chill me. Though the harshness of her eyes did not seem to be of anger, but something a bit more tortured.

She pressed the cloth against a cut on my temple.

I closed my eyes from the pain of the pressure.

After a few hours I had healed after the incident, but not fast enough to be spotless. The Vipera heal internally first, then superficially last. I was currently in a middle stage, deep bruising but no more internal bleeding.

“I think we are past dancing on about the situation.” She took my hand and pressed it onto the cloth to keep some pressure. “Tell it plainly, will you?”

Phoebe released an exasperated sigh, her arms crossed tight. Even her eyes were tired, skin drained of color from the encounter.

“I was in the way,” I said.

“I was too hasty.” Phoebe pointed, then looked to Alina. “I thought I could slip away with some food for you sooner than I thought.”

“Which I told you to wait for.” I pressed the cloth wearily to my cut.

“How would I know he was going to be in a mood!” she argued.

“Because he’s always in a mood!”

“Both of you,” Alina scolded, “what on God’s green earth happened this morning?”

We both quieted and exchanged glances.

“He asked where I was going with the food, and I hesitated,” Phoebe admitted, an angry fluster to her skin as she recounted. “He got aggressive, interrogated me like a hound nipping at my heel.”

Phoebe was unable to look either of us in the eye or stay still in one place. Her body closed in, shoulders hunched and arms tightly crossed.

“He pushed past me to go upstairs, threatened to break the door if I didn’t get the keys. Luka stepped in, and he spared not a moment before he hit him.”

“One of many,” I groaned.

“Why didn’t you fight him off?” Alina questioned, her arms crossed. She was either trying to understand or being accusatory, possibly both. “I don’t understand how this escalated the way it did.”

I scoffed, my arm now too tired to keep it pressed to the spot. “At the end of the day, this is good for his reputation.”

“How?” Alina sounded like she was trying her very best to refrain from raising her voice.

While I understood some of her frustration, she would never be able to understand that this wasn’t like her human politics. These are people who hold their survival above all else. They are not part of this Nest as an extracurricular, they are here because they believe Silas is their best chance at protection since they’ve been rejected by all others. If they must believe one thing, it is that Silas is in control, even when he isn’t.

“You’re only as good as your discipline,” I said. “All the others saw was disobedience. If he let it go, anyone could walk all over him, over us. But he didn’t. He put me back where I belong, and everyone follows suit.”

“It seems archaic.”

“Because it is,” Phoebe stressed, “but he’s right.”

She stared in utter disbelief, brow twitching as she turned her head between us. Half of it may have been the situation, the other would be the fact that Phoebe and I were on the same page.

“It’s fine, he did good.” I groaned as I stood, bracing for my aches as if they weighed on me dearly.

“This is ridiculous,” she laughed. “You’re just accepting this?”

“Yes,” I said, “and now I’m going to get a drink.”

“You’re joking!” She threw her arms up. “Have you both gone completely mad?” Alina complained.

Phoebe tipped her head to one side, then the other, weighing her answer before shrugging.