Page 202 of Seasons of War
Terror stripped her mind and body away to nothing.
No breathing, no thinking, no being. Only horror and guilt too strong to survive.
The Phaedra's hard stare left her only to turn to Zayne. “Control your prisoner.”
Sobs quaked her body, and she dipped with them, weeping for the immeasurable loss of so much death. A tiny strand of relief tickled her heart seeing Zayne walk close to her, but it only deepened the grief, because another part of her knew this was the one time she didn't want him near her.
“Bow,” the Phaedra said.
A strong hand clutched the back of her neck, pressuring her toward the ground until she collapsed onto her hands into the sticky blood. Her fingers disappeared beneath the murky surface. Having Zayne force her down felt the same as someone stomping on her freshly shattered heart. It was too devastating to feel.
“Lower.” Dark eyes stared at her.
Kira shook her head when Zayne started pushing again. The nudge gave way to a strength that overpowered her, and she collapsed onto her forearms, barely catching herself. Her face hovered above the congealing blood.
A whimper broke from her clenched teeth. She shook her head.
Please, no. No more. Especially not by his hand.
Very subtly, he ran his thumb in a soft circle against her throat. The steely grip on her shoulder felt like desperation now. That fleeting touch eased along her broken edges, the power of his comfort on her raw, gaping wound so relieving it hurt more than anything else had. Hurt in a way that let her know she was alive and not lost forever.
“Lower.” The Phaedra's voice buzzed in her gut.
“No.” Kira didn't recognize her own breathy plea. “N-no.”
The stench of blood bore into her mind, never to leave.
Her memory flipped through every touch and look and moment of care they shared. Zayne plucking the little sprout, the warmth of his chest after the icy tank, his finger trailing her jaw the night they met. Time after time, his ice melted just for her as he looked into her eyes, even when she hadn't seen that it was happening. She heard his head crack against the skull of the soldier who tried to kill her.
Zayne would do anything to protect her.
He cared about her.
He cared in a way she didn't have words for but felt in the marrow of her bones.
He couldn't smash her face into this bloody floor.
He couldn't.
He wouldn't.
And if he did, if he ripped his own soul open like in the north. If he buried her in the blood of the Followers, he'd inflict wounds on himself certain to never heal.
Strength didn't feel possible right now, but that just let her see more clearly. The Phaedra watched, and Zayne hesitated. Any longer and he would give his heart away to the most ruthless man in the empire.
The Phaedra would know Zayne chose Kira over him.
It all ended here if he refused.
And Kira wasn't going to become another scar etched into his spirit like the names inside his tree.
Acceptance settled over the horror and pain.
Kira defied her own limits to lower herself into the sticky blood crawling up her throat, and soon her cheek, until she lay flat on the ground while the gore consumed her.
Quietly now, because she didn't have the strength to sob, Kira cried with her eyes and mouth pinched tight to protect against the blood.
Against the image of the dead man.
