Beasthood (The Hidden Blood Series #1)

She hated herself for smiling when that thought came to her. It was like even her most private thoughts were under his control and influence.

She huffed, scowling at the salad she was chopping. When she started aggressively hacking the lettuce to smithereens, Edda took the knife from her and made her sit down.
From dinner until bedtime and beyond, she went through several similar scenarios in her head of what she'd say, what he'd say, how she'd react if he walked into the cabin right at that moment. But all the things that she'd wanted to say; all the strength that she imagined herself having; all the fire and feistiness she worked so hard to keep up just so it would replace the sadness – or the threat of bawling in front of people- vanished when he really did visit her that night.
She wasn't able to sleep after having countless nightmares of random things. Rufus attacking her. Lora resenting her for kissing Nik and turning her back on Jaz in anger. Ronnie being killed- though he was fine but had stayed overnight in the infirmary. And then Driver, being slashed to ribbons by Kain. She tried to scream but her voice wasn't there, and then she was choking; Brutus's grip around her throat, cutting off her air.
And then she sprang up from her damp pillow. Her whole body covered in cold sweat, trembling, her breath erratic and wild. When her breathing finally settled back down to a normal pace she climbed out of bed to the bathroom.
On her way back she stopped mid-step, thinking she had smelt him, but put it down to her imagination. Or just that his scent was still lingering around from a previous visit. She sidled back into her room.
She saw something in the shadows and her scream was very hastily muffled by Nik's hand over her mouth, as he pressed her up to the door. He gave her a moment to collect herself before he released her. She stayed deathly still as he took a step back.
She knew he was waiting for her to behave like she always did. A vigorous slap, a reprimand, a swearword here or there. But she said nothing. The words just wouldn't come out. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the cold, cutting realization that the man standing in front of her might be dead in a week. It ripped through her chest and she was suddenly unable to breathe. She began panting and then panicking because no matter how much air she took in, she still felt like she was suffocating to death.
Nik led her to the bed in one sweeping motion, propped her down as she gasped out the obvious, “I. Can't. Breathe.” He pushed her head down between her knees.
“Take deep, slow breaths. Calm. Down,” he said.
She listened to his soothing, velvet voice as he gently spoke to her, instructing her, with his warm hand resting lightly between her shoulder blades. She focused on that, and eventually her panic subsided, followed by the ability to breathe properly again. After five more minutes or so, she slowly lifted her head, feeling very dizzy.
Nik sat down beside her, sometimes glancing her way, sometimes in front of him.
Jaz kept her gaze fixed on her yellow and blue rug that ran from the door to the desk, following the squiggly patterns with her strong vision -even in darkness. This, Nik's distant but comforting presence and the silence of the night calmed her.
When she exhaled, he took that as a sign to speak. “I needed to see you.”
She closed her eyes, hearing the yearning -almost verging on desperation- in his words. She didn't allow herself to question whether she was right or not. “I'm sorry about just now...” she muttered, mortified.
He didn't say anything, or ask her about it and she was grateful to him.
He rested his hand on hers. “I know that what happened today must have been not only scary but confusing,” he said, “and I can imagine right now you're a lovely mixture of upset and pissed off with me...” He waited for Jaz to have her say, but she only watched him. “... But I wanted your help with something.”
“Name it.”
He hesitated. “Tomorrow Swain is going to ask you, from me, to be a witness at the council meeting.” Jaz stared at him. “At twelve-thirty. To discuss the duel.”
She blinked, uncertain of his motive, and then glancing sideways she asked in a small voice, “Do you want me to be there?”
He watched her with an intensity that made her look up, as if she felt the heat of it on her skin. He said softly, “No.” He found her more curious than puzzled by this.
Rather than ask the obvious, she read between the lines. “You don't trust Swain?”
“I don't trust anyone except myself. And I'm doing it to test the waters, and to stop any rumours about us.”
She bobbed her head, staring at the ground. A long silence followed until she heard him release an irritated breath.
He grabbed her by the arms, giving her a slight shake as if trying to wake her up. “Why don't you hit me?” he demanded. “Yell at me and tell me what you're thinking! It's driving me crazy!”
She smiled and that was when a small but telltale tear trickled down her face. She shrugged him away.
“I might feel like punching your lights out later, but right now, this is all I've got,” she whispered, hinting at a joke.

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