Page 42 of Interion

I closed my eyes and snuggled even closer to him. Would it be wrong to want to steal a little of his warmth?

“Kyller?” Zion called out in the darkness.

“Yes?” My eyes were so heavy. After a panic attack, it was normal to feel exhausted and sleepy—the adrenaline rush always drained my energy.

“I saw in your memories what they said to you this afternoon. I know they want to hurt you. Can you tell me why you don't do anything about it?”

I thought for a moment about what to say. Did I trust him enough to open up? I decided to be honest—he had just seen me naked, and few things could be more embarrassing than that.

“I don't know. Ask a rescued stray dog why he buries some of his bones when you give them to him. If he could talk, he'd probably say it's because he spent his whole life hiding bones, afraid of starving. I spent so long not fighting back that maybe my brain doesn't understand I should do it now.”

“I understand.” His voice was barely a whisper. “You're not in the forests anymore—you're with me, Kyller. It's time to start fighting back, because if you don't do anything, they'll keep at it forever. And it's holding back your social life here. You might be missing the chance to make friends because you're afraid to try.” Zion rested his head on the bed too, and our hair mingled.

“I already have friends. I don't care about that,” I murmured, twirling a strand of my hair that had gotten tangled with his. My fingers barely responded, heavy with exhaustion.

“I know, but think about it a little more.” I noticed his voice was growing drowsy too. “It's hard to reprogram some habits, but I'm here to help you. And... Kyller?”

“Hmm?”

“They're wrong. Inside these walls is exactly where you should be. Don't let them tell you otherwise.”

Bipolar—that would definitely be Zion's diagnosis! My eyes began to grow heavy, but I murmured a barely recognizable “thank you.” Exhaustion was winning the battle, and inevitably, I slipped into a deep, liberating sleep. In the back of my mind, I thought I heard something—not a voice, but a thought.

“If I could, I'd kill every one of the bastards who did this to you, but I can't kill what's already dead.”

Then I fell asleep, holding that hand that could contain all the strength and violence in the world. My senses told me I was safe, that I didn't need to worry, and I found myself surprised to believe it.

At least for tonight.

Chapter 11

Zion woke up two hours later. His neck was stiff as a board and ached as if someone had set his muscles on fire. He realized he’d dozed off with his head resting on the edge of the bed and was so exhausted after two days of trekking through forests and dealing with problems that he could have slept comfortably on a bed of nails.

He looked around, still disoriented, and noticed he’d fallen asleep holding Kyller’s pale hand. Moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the fae’s face, and he couldn’t help but notice the outline of her ear—pointed, yet delicate and slightly rounded, a telltale sign of her mixed ancestry.

Today he’d gotten a small glimpse of the exhausting rejection Kyller constantly faced in this place. Zion knew living among the Interians would be difficult for her, but he hadn’t imagined that after five years, they’d still treat her this way. He wanted to take those four wretches and flay them alive. Even his shadows were furious. When he’d returned to Interion, he’d been determined not to interfere in her problems, but today the situation had crossed the line, and he was going to do something about it. Adele was another nuisance. You didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what had happened in the locker room—the Yonserian had been released after they left and had obviously taken the clothes.

While holding that delicate hand, he tortured himself for a long time with the thought that someone else might have found her in that state. His blood boiled. It was agony to imagine another person putting their filthy hands on Kyller. Fortunately, he’d been there to help her, but unfortunately, the situation had become his worst nightmare. Zion had done everything to suppress the bond, and in that moment, in a matter of seconds, all his effort had crumbled before his eyes. Now the link confronted him in the back of his mind, and he didn’t know what to do.

He’d felt it in his soul when she went into shock. Her feelings had literally hit him with full force. Zion hid a certain psychic power from the world—he couldn’t read minds clearly, but he could sense the emotions they gave off. In that moment, Kyller had become a whirlwind of emotions: shame, fear, and utter despair. Things he’d promised she would never feel again.

He thought about the past and everything he’d given up to keep her safe.

When he’d had to leave, he thought he would shatter like dust in the wind. Without question, leaving had been the most difficult thing he’d ever done, requiring every atom of his strength. Right after being discovered, the partnership had thrown all his hormones into chaos, and it had been almost impossible not to bond with Kyller. But it had also been inconceivable to forge a bond under those conditions. She’d been practically a child and utterly broken—she’d needed care, a home, and security, not a partner who was brutally and irrationally dominated by his sexual instincts. So, for her to be accepted in the nation and live in safety, Zion had made a blood pact with someone he shouldn’t have. The price had been high: the clause stated he had to stay away for five years, unable to interact with her or tell her about the bargain.

Now the time had passed and he could finally return, but coming back had been an act as courageous as leaving. Zion had expected to find a partner who despised him, who burned with anger and rejected him at every glance—which would have made it easier to uphold the blood pact’s requirements. Instead, what he found was a gentle woman with a kind heart and eyes that tried to understand him rather than push him away. And that broke him in a way he could almost hear: like ice cracking slowly, except in this case, it was his heart.

He felt unworthy of that woman. He’d expected to see contempt, anger, and disgust, because being rejected would have been understandable and rational, given his position as general and the role he played in the forest. Zion would have known how to deal with all that. But kindness? Fragility? Her attempts to get closer? He had no idea how to handle any of it. It was too much and had completely undone him. He was still trying to piece himself back together and had spent the last few days asking himself what he really felt for the girl with the golden eyes. He’d told himself not to rush, that he had plenty of time to sort out his feelings. The pact was still active, and from what he’d seen of his partner’s performance at the academy, it would stay that way for a good while.

He couldn’t get the image of Kyller naked on that wretched bench out of his head. She wasn’t like the females of Interion. There, all the girls were slender, tall, willowy, and elegant. Kyller, much to Zion’s torment, had inherited more of the Drute women’s physical traits. Her body was curvaceous, with full breasts, a slim waist, and a perky ass that drove him crazy. Only her skin tone, white as the moon, was an inheritance from Interion.

He looked at their intertwined hands. Tendrils of his power lurked around his wrist, stretching toward the girl’s hand as if to taste it. He forced his control, and they retreated. Apparently, he couldn’t even trust his own shadow power—the shadows took on a life of their own when it came to his partner.

Zion sighed for the thousandth time that night. He felt dirty being in that room—his thoughts were so impure he almost felt ashamed of himself. The infernal bond was exacting its price for having been silenced for the last five years and now thrummed between them, begging them to touch. He needed to get out of there soon because the place was saturated with her scent. Otherwise, he felt he would go completely mad, just like when he’d rescued her from the fall and caught her scent. He’d gotten so angry with himself for almost losing control that before he knew it, he’d already yelled at her.

Sitting in the moonlit room, Zion allowed himself to fulfill at least one of his small desires—insignificant compared to what he really wanted. There weren’t enough words tonight to describe his wants. Resigned, he contented himself with simply rubbing his thumb over the smooth skin of the girl’s hand, while his partner instincts screamed that for just that fraction of a second, his life was worthwhile.

Unfortunately, there was still a pact, and holding her hand was the most he could do, because touching her was an extremely high risk. The bond could start gaining strength, as it had at the academy, and then he’d be in deep shit. The general wanted more than anything in the world to keep his partner safe and happy, but to do that, he needed to stay away. It was dangerous for her to get too close, and fate was truly a cruel bastard.