Page 19 of Nyanine's Divide

“Poke fun all you want, I just thought I’d see what the general consensus was, geesh.” Kosiiba glares at Cruzig, crossing his arms over his chest, his knives resting near his left hip. His hair is braided back for once, leaving fewer wisps around his face.

“I don’t know that I trust them as much as the captain. I want you all to stay on guard in case this is some ploy, got it? No one just shows up to help for nothing, it’s not how the universe works,” I grumble, my eyes finding the Nobody speaking to Jeff, Willa by his side. What does he want now?

In my experience, when the universe gives you something that seems like a good thing, there’s always some ulterior motive waiting to rip the ground out from under you. The universe and fate are hurtful witches, always lifting hopes simply to crush them and laugh as you weep. The Nobodies say they’re here to help, but they could just as easily be working for the opposition we’re fighting. We have no way of knowing yet, and I won’t let my guard down.

Kosiiba clears his throat, drawing all our attention to him as he scuffs his toes in the dirt, his hands squeezing his knife sling across his chest. “They came originally because they work with Charlie, but it turns out that Rygen is Vahru’s long lost cousin.” His words are rushed at the end, mumbled, but they’re understood all the same.

Rygen. I know that name. He was one of the boys who scoffed at me, judged me, made me an outcast growing up. It was because of kids like him and the parents like his who listened to their made up stories that I became a pariah. No one wanted me in the school with the other kids, I was mocked for my scars, Iwas pushed and kicked, spit on, and if it wasn’t for that group of hunters taking me in, I’d probably have ended up namirii bait. I hadn’t realized he was Vahru’s cousin, but it makes sense now why he was so highly regarded then.

I sneer, my nose twitching up on one side as I stifle a growl of anger. Atsatsa tilts his chin up, his purple eyes twitching from the distance to me, and I turn to see Jeff coming this way with Rygen at his side. My teeth clench painfully, but I do my best to hold my expression neutral.

“You’re still grimacing and look like you need a shit, T. Breathe.” Atsatsa leans over, whispering in my ear before settling beside me, and I exhale heavily. I manage to get in a few deep breaths before they reach us, and my face feels more relaxed, though my insides are hard as rocks.

“Hey, guys. This is Rygen, Vahru’s cousin. He served in an off-world military for a time after leaving here and has some suggestions that might be helpful to us considering what we’re dealing with. I thought it might be good to chat it out with him.”

I listen as Jeff and Rygen take turns explaining the new rounds they want to do, some equipment that Rygen wants to set up around the village, and their suggestions on new weapons to learn and new fighting styles. It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes at the suggestion, but I won’t disrespect the lieutenant that way. He’s simply trying to do what he believes is best for us all, even if that means taking advice from some prick.

“The enemies you might be dealing with, they may have the same if not similar styles of training that I had. If they’re from the cities, they’ll be trained in more proper hand-to-hand combat, they’ll have modern weapons, and they’ll be organized and have several plans in place to deal with whatever you plan to throw at them. They think you’re savages with no real plans or organization. So let’s prove them wrong.” Rygen grins evilly, clearly eager to teach us what he knows.

I admit, reluctantly, his idea is…smart. Ugh. I still hate him. The last thing we want is to be caught off guard because we weren’t expecting higher power and capabilities. Of course, they’ll have a technological advantage over us, but we could have the advantage of our element and knowledge of their fighting tactics. It’s a good plan, and I hate that it came from him.

Watching him speak, seeing his gestures, hearing his voice, it merely brings back my past in vivid color, spearing my chest wide open. I never got over how I was treated as a child, I never truly healed, I simply moved on and scabbed over that wound to survive each day. As he stands here, he rips that scab off, and blood is dripping down, fresh and painful.

It takes all I have to stay focused and catch the instructions I am to carry on to the other hunting teams. My blood pounds in my ears, things begin to sound far off, and each time Rygen’s blue eyes reach mine, I see the sneer he used to wear so well, hear the taunts, and feel his fists and feet as he would torture me for the others’ amusement.

We finally break off after getting a schedule sorted out for training with Rygen and Jeff, and I head off to notify the other hunting teams. It takes an hour or so to wander around and find them all, to give them the information quickly and move on to the next. By the time I finish, my night is nearly up. I should go get some rest before my day starts, but I find that I’m troubled and unable to relax as flashbacks continue to assault my mind.

I wander through the woods, murmuring to myself, reliving events, my body thumping into trees. I run into them without seeing them, throw myself against them in punishment, punch them in anger. Nothing seems to help relieve the torrent of emotions that’s welling inside, growing like a storm, so I keep moving, getting the energy out in any way I can.

My feet take me toward the great lake, the sound of the lapping water soothing to my soul in some way. As I enter the clearingproperly and head for the edge of the water, I spot a small figure sitting on a log. She stands as I approach, notified by my presence by the sounds of my feet in the grass, and I stop in my tracks, my heart racing. Even in the moonlight, even in shadow with no more than a silhouette as my guide, I’d know her.

She’s the last person I want to come across at a time like this. I know what she wants, can already hear her words, see her tears, and I can’t take it. I’ll become my mother when she realizes I’m not good enough and leaves, and that is absolutely the last thing I want to happen. It won’t happen, I won’t let it, because there is no mate bond. Not for me. I won’t accept it.

“Terax,” she says in shock. How did she learn my name? Why do I like the sound of it coming from her lips?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was out here. You shouldn’t be here alone, it’s not entirely safe. Returning to your cabin is recommended,” I spout off, my insides curdling at my curt tone and easy dismissal of her. This is what’s best for us. If we avoid each other, ignore the bond, perhaps it won’t form enough to destroy us both. I’ve ignored worse pains, this is but a flesh wound in the light of them all.

She turns, stepping into the light, and her red skin seems to glow as her thin scales reflect the light back at me. Her eyes are so much darker in this setting, and the dangerous look of her only entices me, my cock betraying me as I take in her angry stance.

“Why are you avoiding me? Don’t you know who I am?” Her voice lashes out at me, hitting in the most painful spots, but I don’t let it show. My mind is a jumble as I struggle to fight the past and the present, the mental and emotional wounds, and to stay calm. The rage is boiling beneath my skin, a desire to respond to the universe in the way it always seems to respond to me. With pain and suffering.

“I know exactly who you are, and it’s precisely why I’m avoiding you. Now get going home.” I’m stern, commanding, not willing to sit here and have this fight with her. If she pushes me much further, I may just lose all composure.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, and you certainly don’t get to decide how I live my life, Terax. We’re mates, and you need to get over yourself and deal with it.” Her hands land on her thin hips, her head cocking slightly.

My teeth grind together as anger floods me. Why does everyone suddenly think they can tell me what to do? Since when did I become some little boy who needs everyone else’s opinion again? I have spent my life fighting for my fucking right to live as my own person, to be responsible for me, and for my right to fucking survive at all. I am the master of my fate, not anyone else!

“I will do as I damn well please, and you will not tell me how to handle this. I am not under your command, witch. I have built myself to be who I am all on my own. I have survived things you’ve never even dreamed of. I nearly walked through the light and left this planet altogether. So I will walk away if I choose to. I will ignore this so-called bond between us if I choose, and you will not sway me otherwise. I am not a mate, I am a hunter, a warrior, a fighter, and I will continue to survive as such.” I shout the words I’ve said to myself over the years so many times in an effort to explain as much as calm myself. My breath pants from me as I struggle to contain my rage. Why does she rile me up so? Why must she attack me when my past is doing the same? I need space, I need to be alone. I don’t need this fight right now when I’m barely holding myself together as is.

“Is that what this is, you think you can’t love me the way I need you to? Newsflash, Mister Jungle King, I don’t need love, okay. I don’t need to be pampered and coddled and treated like some damn princess in waiting. I’m perfectly capable ofcaring for myself. I’ve been on my own for a long time, handled some pretty tough shit myself, so don’t think you’re the only fighter here. But I’ll be damned if I let my chance at a possible happiness walk away. Fate chose you for a reason, and I’m at least willing to listen, to give it a chance.”

There’s a moment of silence as I soak up her words and consider a response. She’s right, she’s been through some rough things as well, different, but rough just the same. Maybe she doesn’t think she needs someone to love and care for her, but she does. A good mate protects, cares for, and loves his other half. Whether she believes it or not, fate fucked up. It chose wrong. And I’m not going to let her bully me into something I never asked for in the first place. I shouldn’t even be alive let alone be a mate.

“You think you’re being chivalrous, right? That you’re saving me from a bad mate-”

“You don’t know a damn thing about what I think. I never asked for this, I don’t want it, and I won’t accept it. Find someone else.” I cut her off and turn on my heel, storming back down the path I came from. She stomps and screams in her throat before cursing me aloud, making me scoff.

She’s not the first to call me that and won’t be the last, I have no doubt. It’s not about chivalry or being caring of the fact that I’ll fail her, it’s knowing when you’re the wrong choice, accepting it, and walking away. It’s refusing to accept the good because every time good comes your way, it’s a lie, a trick, and blip before you’re ruined and broken all over again. The last time I had happiness even close to what a mate bond should be, it was snatched from me in a brutal death. Never again.

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