A stranger stood before me.
It wasn’t John who answered my question.
Scorpius’s voice was cruel behind me. “I heard what you said to Sadie.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“You shouldn’t listen to other people’s conversations,” I replied, still facing John. “I don’t owe you any explanation for something you weren’t meant to hear.”
“Please,” Scorpius spat. “Save your excuses.”
John’s frown deepened.
Malum made a strangled noise.
Ice expanded out from me like an infection. Scarlet flames leaped higher in my peripheral vision.
A soldier whistled, and I jolted as I remembered where we were. Someone’s amputated arm was lying on a silver tray a couple feet away. Doctors and soldiers were staring at us with open mouths.
A tension headache throbbed in my left temple.
“I’m not doing this.” I stalked out of the medical barracks. The freezing wind slammed the door shut satisfyingly behind me.
I only made it a few steps into the blizzard before I was picked up and thrown over a flaming shoulder like a sack of grain.
My mind flatlined, and I hung limp.
Snow whipped around the realm in a frenzy.
I slammed frozen hands across Malum’s flaming back, cobalt blue streaming from my fingertips as trails of ice covered his coat.
The world was viciously cold and angry.
So was I.
Cobalt dissipated as the scarlet flames on Malum’s shoulders spread down his back. I hit him repeatedly, kicked my legs, and screamed into the howling wind as I froze him.
He thawed.
I covered him in streaks of cobalt.
Flames turned ice into water; ice chased away flames.
We were locked in battle.
Malum abruptly stopped walking, and he went impossibly still amongst the frozen white trees.
His hand settled on my ass; fingers splayed possessively. It was deliciously warm, and I hated myself for noticing.
“Hurt me as much as you want, my Revered.” Malum’s voice was gravelly. “I prefer it.” His voice dropped an octave, and the hand against my ass started to burn like it had caught fire. “But you have a lot of explaining to do.”
He resumed walking down the path.
“I’m not yours,” I said as he hoisted me into our barracks.
I waited, but he didn’t put me down on my bunk like I expected—he stalked into the bathroom, turned on the hot water, and tried to throw me into the tub.
I punched and kicked with all my might, but he used his freakish size to overpower me.
He pushed me under the spray.
Why was everyone obsessed with the shower lately?
Men discovered personal hygiene one day and suddenly it was talk to me in the shower, meet me in the shower, get in the shower, Aran.
The water sputtered.
Hot drops turned into snowflakes; ice hissed as it trailed across the ancient porcelain tub; the spray slowed as the showerhead turned cobalt blue.
The temperature plummeted below freezing.
Malum sighed, and his breath puffed out in a cloud of condensation. “Calm down.” He turned the nozzle up as hot as it would go.
Flames jumped off his arms and crawled along the walls. Once again, ice turned to water. Pipes groaned, then hot water filled the space with steam.
He manhandled me so I stood under the heat, then he caged me against the wall so I couldn’t escape.
We were sopping wet.
“Great, now you’re waterboarding me.” I sputtered. “And you wonder why I don’t want to be your mate? Grow up.”
I slammed my fist at his throat. He dodged at the last minute, and the blow glanced off harmlessly.
“You don’t want to do that.” Silver eyes glinted with pure aggression.
I bared my teeth and let him see his death in mine as I lunged forward to strangle him. John and Luka stepped under the spray and restrained my arms.
“All this because I don’t have a soul?” I laughed harshly. “I knew you kings would turn on me as soon as anything got difficult.”
Flames trailed out of Malum’s nose as he breathed.
I tried to wrench my hands free, but the twins were unrelenting.
They held me immobile.
Turning my head, I stared at John. “I trusted you.” My voice was raw.
He didn’t release me.
My heart crumpled.
It hurt.
I looked away, unable to handle the sight of the people I’d thought I’d spend my life with turning on me.
They were ripping out my heart and stomping on the already broken pieces.
There was nothing left inside.
The fight left me.
Insides melting, I slumped forward. The twins’ grip kept me from face-planting onto the edge of the tub, smashing my face open, and bleeding out.
Another missed opportunity.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Scorpius snarled like a broken record as he pulled the shower curtain wide so all the men could lean over me. Cage me inside the shower.
Tears welled.
My eyes burned.
I tilted my head forward and let my hair obstruct my face because there was no way I would cry in front of these men. They didn’t deserve it.
“WHY would you keep this secret?” John’s voice cracked as he asked, his harsh grip softened, and he shifted so he was half hugging, half holding me up. “How could you not tell us?”
He sounded dejected.
I stayed limp.
It wasn’t their problem that I didn’t have a soul. It was their problem that I hated them and would never talk to any of them ever again.
Callused fingers wrapped around my chin, and Luka tipped my head up, so I was staring at him.
His face contorted with pain as he asked, “Aran, how could you not tell us that you feel pain every time you were aroused?”
My thoughts blanked.
“Oh,” I breathed out as my lips parted. So that was what this all was about? Exhaustion, confusion, and relief washed over me.
Then, like his words had detonated a bomb, the men exploded.
Chapter 44
Aran
COMPROMISES
Metanoia (noun): a transformative change of heart.
DAY 30: HOUR 15
Malum bellowed like a wounded animal and whirled.
He slammed his fist into the concrete bathroom wall. “You’ve been in pain every single fucking time you’ve been turned on. Do you understand how messed up that is? All three of us touched you in the changing room!” He screamed as he punched, then his voice dropped and he whispered brokenly, “We never should have touched you. You made a pained noise, and we didn’t realize.”
He gasped like he was holding back a sob.
Scarlet flames filled the bathroom with suffocating smoke.
Ice formed on my fingertips. Hot water melted it away. My clothes hung off me, soaking wet and dirty from the battle.
Grime pooled at my feet before it washed down the drain.
I didn’t regret not telling the men, but I regretted that this was what we’d come to—spiraling in a tiny bathroom.
Six large bodies crammed into a space built for two. Max.
Everyone was squished together.
Slumped over on the edge of the tub, bumping into everyone, Scorpius pulled at his hair dejectedly.
Water sprayed off me and onto him. His pale skin was speckled with pink.