Page 19 of Unlikely Omega

Crap.

I hope I won’t bleed more.

An awakening shouldn’t be like this, Ismere was right—so painful and bloody and mind-twisting.

Figures I’d turn out to be weird in this as well.

Why can’t I just be a normal girl, a believer, a perfect acolyte, happy to give my life to the Temple? It’s not like I have any other idea of what else to do with my life, where to go.

Just… stop thinking, Ari. Thinking obviously isn’t taking you anywhere. Keep up with the rituals and you’ll—

“Acolyte,” a voice snaps and I stumble.

“Shit.” I flail, my blades whistling, and I barely manage to stop their motion before I kill the person speaking to me. I also barely avoid a painful and undignified landing on my ass. My middle section is aching enough as it is, thank you very much, not needing extra bruises. “Holy goddess.”

“Your balance needs some work,” Priest Finnen says.

Fuck you, I think but only a huff leaves my lips. “Ata Finnen,” I murmur, lowering the damn blades.

“Follow me,” he says.

I don’t immediately obey—partly because my limbs are heavy and my mind drowsy, and partly because we’ve been here before, danced this particular dance.

“Why?” I eventually ask, turning away to place the sacred blades on their place on the wall.

“You still have to learn the rituals. I didn’t get the chance to show them to you the previous time.”

“And whose fault is that?” I mutter, turning back, then flinch. I actually lift my hands and brace for violence, because my mouth keeps getting away from me and I’m sure there will be consequences.

There always are.

I almost flinch again when he takes a step closer, prepared for him to lash out. My life so far here at the Temple has been pretty tame and quiet. Oh, I’ve been slapped and hit and kicked countless times, by priests and priestesses, by secular servants of the Temple, but that’s par for the course. I’m a nobody. I’m expected to obey, to learn quickly, to not complain.

But he frowns and draws a sharp breath, as if I’m the one who has managed to hit him. A flush spreads over marble-white skin, marking his high cheekbones. “My behavior was improper. It won’t happen again. As long as you promise to keep away from the unnamed god, I’m willing to take you once more under my wing.”

His wing? That had lasted all of a hot moment, and wait, back up. Improper? Is he serious?

But beggars can’t be choosers, can they? Who else would be willing to help me at this point, when my High Priest acts like he wants to murder me in cold blood and my best friend doesn’t talk to me because I bled too much?

Also, he might think that his behavior was improper, but if you ask me, it was just plain weird, and that’s… intriguing.

Yes, I’m curious about him. Can’t blame a girl for that when nothing much has ever happened in my life until now.

And crap, yeah, let’s face it. His promise of safety is still beguiling, despite my suspicions about him.

“Acolyte?” His pale brows are drawn together in a way that reminds me of Elegos’ fury with me earlier, but his mouth doesn’t have that pinched look.

Why am I looking at his mouth?

“Lead the way,” I say quietly. I’m done fighting this, this need, this curiosity in me, and on top of that, I need this chance to get away from Elegos and the hatred in his eyes even for a while.

Let’s do this.

“You never told me why you were bleeding yesterday,” Finnen says, his low, deep voice raising the fine hairs on my arms. I have to hurry to match his big strides.

“I cut myself,” I mutter through my teeth.

“Did you go to the Temple healer to have the cut tended to?”

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