Page 17 of The Gods Veiling
It’s my home.
A home that’ll soon be packed up by strangers and moved to the region’s center since Mellcom and I have no family to collect it for us.
It’s where I’ve lived for the last twenty years of my life, waiting for my parents to return for me. I accepted long ago that they missed the entirety of my teen years, but my heart held hope they’d be back for my adult ones.
The ones where a different stage of life started.
Now I have to unwillingly say goodbye to this home and that dream.
Their hands release me as we approach the front door and there’s a tremor in my fingers as I reach for the knob. It takes me two tries to actually get a grip on it to turn it.
The creak of the hinges that I’ve grown accustomed to hearing every day sounds harrowing. It echoes through the empty house as though it’s warning all the rooms, this will be the last time we enter it.
My steps carry me to the middle of the room at the division of the kitchen and living room. A space so small the area is really just one.
“We need to go get our things.”
Mellcom’s voice washes away my melancholy and my fury barges to the surface once more. My tightly braided bun of hair comes loose from the speed behind me whipping around. The words I want to say, scream, get stuck in my throat.
I want to slap the guiltright off his face.
“We’ll explain when we leave. Go get your things.”
My sneer is vicious as it runs up and down Jeremiah.
“We? As in, not only did you know, you had a hand in this as well?”
His silence speaks volumes, but whereas Mellcom seems riddled with guilt, Jeremiah is giddy.
The curl on his lips as he prowls toward me is the last drop in the bucket of my anger. He goes to open his mouth once there are only a few inches between us, but I don’t care to hear it.
My knee rises faster than he can get a breath out.
Instead of whatever it was he was going to say, a pitiful whimper falls from him as he grabs his crotch and hits his knees.
Exactly where he belongs.
I raise my leg and kick my foot out as hard as I can directly to his chest. The hit sends him flailing backward and his head ricochets off the ground.
The force of my back hitting the floor steals the air from my lungs and Mellcom’s weight makes it impossible to pull more in.
I bash my fist into his throat before he can pin my arms down, then my body follows him over as he falls back. My gown ripping covers the sound of him wheezing.
My fists continue to pound against him as my legs straddle his waist. I don’t know where I hit. Each strike is uncoordinated, chaotic, and full of the hurt from his betrayal.
How could he do this to me?
“Thayla.” The shout comes seconds before I’m lifted. I fight the grip with everything I got so I can continue beating the hell out of Mellcom. “Thayla, stop, it’s me.”
Lambrit’s voice pierces the panic-induced fury, and my hands let him go, then flop to my sides. He holds me up as I struggle to catch my breath, and his tremors pass into me.
He’s not a fighter. Never has been.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Jeremiah bellows as he attempts to help Mellcom up, but my traitorous brother waves him off.
Lambrit’s arm tightens around me as I try to take a step forward.
“My problem? I know you’re a self-centered ass, Jeremiah, but not so much that you honestly think I’ve done something wrong this time. You two betrayed me.”
