Page 11 of Rejected By Dragons

She scoffs and turns toward the counter. "Go clean up, and take the trash out while you're at it. Then you can come back here and make yourself useful for once."

I curl my fingernails into my scarred palm. "Yes, ma'am."

Aunt Helena's never been outright cruel to me. I've never had to live in a cupboard under the stairs, and I've never feared for my physical safety.

That's about as much as I can say, though. My mother and father were warm and kind. They gave me snuggles and kissed my boo-boos, and they told me they loved me so much that I thought it was annoying.

If only I'd known then what I know now.

My aunt has made it entirely too clear that she has no affection for me. I'm little more than a burden to her, and I had damn well better earn my keep.

Once I'm finished with my degree, I'll be out of here. I'll be able to get a real job--maybe online, or maybe elsewhere. Surely King Zephyr won't protest if I petition him to leave. I'm an outcast here. The Air Kingdom may miss having their favorite punching bag around, but otherwise, they'll be happy to have me gone.

I'm not afraid of hard work. But having my aunt always bossing me around, trying to extract some sort of penance from me for the crime of simply existing has ground me down so low. I hate having to rely on her. The truth is that, for now at least, I can't afford to get a place of my own. So I'm stuck.

Gritting my teeth, I slip past her and grab the garbage. It's overflowing, and it stinks to high heaven. It should have been taken out hours ago, but clearly Aunt Helena can't be bothered with such menial tasks. She bumps into me as I'm trying to tie the bag, jostling me so that a gross glob of something brown and smelly tips out and onto my shoe.

She tsks me. "Clumsy. Clean that up."

She doesn't bother to apologize, and I'm not naive enough to think it was an accident. I taste blood as I sink my teeth into the inside of my cheek. I'm not going to rise to the bait or talk back.

All I want is to go to my room. Maybe scream into my pillow for a while, then get started on the paper I have to write for my communications class.

For now, I wipe the muck off my shoe. It leaves a stain, and I blink back the stinging sensation at the corner of my eyes. That's yet another piece of clothing spoiled today. I swab the floor, too, just to prevent an argument about how lazy I am.

I manage to escape after that. Flies swarm the trash bin outside, and I have to hold my nose as I add the new bag to the pile. I return to the house via the back door after that and slip upstairs. I make it almost all the way to my room before I hear footsteps in the hall.

"What on earth happened to you?"

The voice this time is the opposite of harsh. I turn to find my cousin Brynn standing just outside her door. Real concern colors her expression, her blue eyes wide and her brows high.

Brynn's always been my best friend. Well, ever since I landed in this godawful town, in any case. We're about the same age, and despite our mothers' differences, both in appearance and temperament, we're family. Sure, I've occasionally resented her prized place in the household. Aunt Helena treats me like a servant, but she treats Brynn like a princess. Brynn deserves it, though. She's kind and thoughtful and always happy to help.

At the softness in her gaze, I deflate. "Just the usual," I promise her, rolling my eyes, as if being pushed around by the town's elites on a daily basis is no big deal.

Brynn grimaces. "Jasmine?"

"Who else?"

Brynn is basically the only other person besides Storm who knows the extent of the bullying I'm dealing with. "One of these days..."

I shake my head hard. "I won't have you getting involved."

Somehow, despite being my family and my friend, Brynn has managed to avoid becoming an outcast like me. I intend to keep it that way.

Frowning, Brynn takes me in. I instinctively tug at the ripped neckline of my shirt. The safety pins aren't doing much to keep it closed, and there's nothing I can do to hide the gross stain on my shoe.

Brynn lets out a sigh. "Come on, then. Let's get you cleaned up."

I know better than to protest. I let Brynn lead me to the bathroom, where she heads to the medicine cabinet for the alcohol and bandages. Shame burns in my chest. She's helped me out after scrapes with Jasmine and Fury and their friends enough times that this is routine.

I drop my bag and tug off the tattered remains of my shirt. Brynn winces as the slash down my sternum is revealed. "Ouch."

"No kidding."

It hurts even worse when she swabs it with the alcohol. Despite my dragon's stubborn refusal to Emerge, I am still a shifter. I'll heal up fast enough. For now, though, we bandage the cut the best we can.

"Leave your shoes here," she tells me. "I'll see what I can do."

---