Page 71 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion
A sad-looking chaise was in the centre of the gloomy room. One end stacked with crates of books long forgotten with dust gathering on their leather covers.
A grimy lantern sat on an abandoned stack of tomes; the fireplace was bricked up but the mantel remained, covered in candles that had all melted, dripping wax down the chipped bricks. I busied myself lighting them all, drenching the depressing space in warm orange light.
How old and stagnant it was, the air thick with dead magic. Leaving a bitterness on my tongue. Unsettling me, but I turned to find the voyav sat on the chaise.
‘It must be my lucky day.’ Thean grinned, baring those fucking fangs that made my gums ache to do the same. Luring my beasts to play.
‘What do you want?’ I was too tired to even think about fighting with them.
‘To see if you decided to get any more mad ideas.’ They shrugged, the motion moving their shirt to reveal more of those forbidden runes marked there. Blood marks. Evidence of their devotion to the rebellion. To the witch that puppeted them. ‘Or if you were finished licking your wounds?’
‘Because I’m a beast?’ I sneered, though the voyav never reacted to my anger the way I wanted.
They inclined their head, thoughtfully. ‘No, because self-pity isn’t like you, love.’
‘Sod off,’ I sighed. Pressing my fingers against my brow. Hoping the motion might soothe the dull ache in the back of my skull from the presence of something else within me.
Something I’d let in. That horrid sickly feeling still against my skin.
‘Some things are not worth your worry,’ the voyav cautioned, leaning forwards so their elbows rested on their knees. The most casual gesture I’d seen the creature make. Perfect bow lips pursed as if with concern.
‘You saw the state of Kat.’ It worried me more, how much more of this she could bare.
‘She should have been resting,’ they offered gently as if cautious of my mood. ‘Unfortunately, Blackthorn is too bewitched to see reason where she’s concerned.’
I should have hissed or bitten out a curse but I found myself stuck in silence. Kat was impossible to reason with even when she was of sound mind. Reluctant to give the voyav a victory, I childishly turned my attention to the candles. Hoping like a vicious spectre they’d vanish with the lack of attention.
‘A Kysillian will never be told what to do. Stubborn as an ox, even when faced with a foe as vicious as you, darling,’ they reasoned softly, and if I wasn’t smarter, I’d convince myself I heard an edge of concern in their voice.
‘We’re generalising everyone by blood now?’
‘Am I wrong?’ They rubbed their jaw, the collection of golden rings on their fingers catching the candlelight. ‘You might be in love with her but surely you can see her faults, darling?’
A sharp laugh escaped me at the ridiculousness of the statement. Echoing off the stone around us. ‘I’m not inlovewith Kat.’
I ignored the bite of curiosity that had lingered in the voyav’s words. Why the accusation would leave their lips. Why a being like them would care for such fickle emotions at all? ‘She’s half of me in a way I wouldn’t expectyouto understand.’
Like a limb, it was a familiarity I was dependent on. So close to my heart it didn’t have words. As if our stories had begun on the same page, even if I knew that wasn’t true. Even if the nightmare of mine had started long before.
No. I wasn’t demented enough to be in love with Kat. Blackthorn could suffer that fate alone.
‘Have you met many Kysillians?’ I frowned, finding myself against my better judgement turning to fully face them.
‘A few.’ There was a guardedness to those eyes. As if not anticipating my curiosity.
Tough. They should have been cleverer in their games.
I blew out a frustrated breath. ‘Do you answer any questions?’
‘Perhaps you aren’t asking the right ones, darling.’ They tilted their head, revealing more summoning marks up the strong column of their throat. So many. Almost sadistic in their abundance. A testament to how tightly such a creature needed to be bound, as if Thean’s will was too wild to be contained with merely one.
Or perhaps their master just enjoyed the sight of them too much. My fingertips brushed across the mottled skin of my wrist, fur rising beneath my touch. The creatures beneath trying to comfort me.
‘Why are you even still here?’ I demanded, pushing my hands behind my back. Turning my own anguish to anger like flipping a coin.
Thean seemed to preen under my irritation. ‘Maybe the question you really want to ask is why it bothers you so?’
It doesn’t bother me, I wanted to snap, but the slipping of scales over my spine with a shudder I had to repress told me otherwise. Every sense in my cursed body was on alert in their presence. Beasts too curious.
