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I blanch away from Arty at the sound of her name. I know it’s not Arty’s fault, it’s not like she’s the one who hurt me, but even though the scars are gone on my back, even though the blood was all washed away, I can still feel everything that happened to my body. Some scars cannot be healed so easily. I slept well and woke up to fresh sheets, which I’m guessing was Lysander. I have to thank him. Even though the thought of thanking Lysander for anything is sickening. I’m still surprised he healed me.
Desmerda is still in this castle. She could still do that to me again, and no one would stop her. I couldn’t stop her. Any of them could do that to me. I realise that threat now. Yesterday made me realise that I am human, and they have magic that I can’t even fathom. I’m easy to kill. I’ve never felt so weak. At least on Earth, everyone else was human. Yes, we can murder each other, but it takes a great deal of strength to do that, and it’s uncommon there. It’s just a normality here. It was a punishment. A punishment will give me nightmares for the rest of my life, along with pretty much everything that’s happened since I got here. Arty touches my hand, but I sharply pull away from her. “Talk to me. I can see you’re not okay.”
“It’s nothing,” I bite out, pushing off the table.
“Elle, wait!” she shouts after me, but I quickly leave. I’m storming down the corridor, only to come face to face with Grayson.
He crosses his thick arms, and my heart races for another reason. “Good. You’re on your way to me this time. Come on.”
He turns around and I frown, realising that we’ve got training this morning. I’d almost forgotten. After a few steps, he pauses in the corridor, turning back to me, tilting his head to the side. His eyes are almost animalistic, the way he looks at me. “Why do you smell like old blood and fear? Are you injured?”
“No,” I say because it’s true. I’m not injured anymore. I’m a bit woozy, but not injured. He knows I’m lying, or at least not telling him the whole truth. I can see it in his eyes.
“Fine. I will find out myself,” he coolly responds and turns around. He all but jogs down into the training room, and I struggle to keep up. The second we are in the training room, he makes the vine man appear out of the cracks in the ground. He instantly jumps at me, and I scream, falling onto the floor in a heap, covering my face with my hands.
I know how to fight. I know how to defend myself, but I can’t move.
I can’t breathe. It feels like the world suddenly gets too small for me. There’s too much of everything, and I can’t breathe. All I can hear is the sound of my skin ripping on my back. All I can smell is my blood. Her laughs echo in my mind as she hurts me over and over. All I can hear is Finley burning, Katherine dying, everyone dying. I cover my face with my hands, shaking from head to toe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. Sobs echo from the back of my throat.
Warm, rough hands pull my own away from my face, and I blink in surprise. I never expected Grayson to be in front of me. He is kneeling in front of me, his eyes a calming, protective storm bringing me back. He gently lowers my hands before cupping my face. His hands are shaking, all of him is. He’s terrified to touch me. But he is anyway because he knows that I’m losing it. “Whatever happened, brat, you don’t have to tell me as long as you’re okay. You’re having a panic attack. Breathe with me and let the memories, the thoughts that frighten you, wash away with the air.”
I breathe in a shaky, cold breath, listening to Grayson’s soft commands. “Breathe. You’re going to be fine because I’m with you and I am not leaving. I’m your rock, Ellelin. Hold on to me and don’t you dare let go.”
The panic fades slowly as I listen to his breathing, until I can’t focus on anything but my pounding heart. “Breathe with me.” I copy his breathing, long breaths in and out, until the room stops spinning, until I feel less dizzy, and everything isn’t so terrifying anymore. My eyes widen when I realise that both his hands are on my face, his thumb resting against the hollow of my neck. His gaze drifts over my face, searching my eyes, drifting to my lips. I carefully look at him, wondering what he would taste like. Is he thinking the same thing?
He leans into me, sucking in a deep, raspy breath. “Tell me to let go.”
My mouth parts. “No.” He leans a slight bit closer to me, and I know every single inch between us is a mountain to him. Our lips are a breath away, and my heart is pounding so hard for a new reason. I want him to kiss me; I want it so badly it actually hurts.
He suddenly leaps away from me, holding his hand up between us as he climbs to his feet, like I’m the real threat here. The ground literally shakes and rumbles beneath our feet with his power. “No.”
What the hell happened to him?
“Gray—”
“King Grayson,” he growls as he corrects me. “Leave.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
His eyes lock onto mine as I stand. “Don’t apologise for the fact that I am fucked up and can’t be touched. That’s my problem, and the only person who should apologise for it is not in this room.”
“Still, I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m sorry that I even care when I shouldn’t. I’m sorry about all of this, as it’s fucked up. If you want me to leave, I will.”
“That’s the problem,” he growls. “All I want is to be closer to you. I never want you to leave.”
My heart warms, and he clears his throat. “Now, do you want to continue training, or would you like to leave early?”
I’m selfish, as I know it would be easier for him if I left early. If I’m being honest, I don’t want training, but I want more time with him. I feel safe here. I feel like nothing, and no one can hurt me. My mouth feels dry as I reply, “Training. We have a deal, after all.”
“Fine,” he tightly responds. “I don’t know what happened with you, but I’m surprised it doesn’t happen more often with the girls here. You’ve been dragged from your world and forced to compete in a murderous task to become one of our brides.”
I snort. “True. Do you even want this? A bride?”
“What do you think?” he asks, spreading out his arms. “I hate most people, and here I’m forced to socialise more than I’d like. The idea of a bride…”
He looks at me. “Well, the thought was abhorrent to me. It’s not anymore.”
I try to ignore his unsaid words that make my heart pound faster. “Isn’t there another way for you to keep your power rather than this barbaric test?”
