Darius laid her on the bed and she imdiately sat up and rubbed her temple. Maybe her headache had gotten worse.
He brushed a few damp strands of hair from her face, his fingers gentle but hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if she’d allow more. Then he exhaled through his nose and moved to the window, drawing the curtains apart.
The sun had begun to dip, casting a warm orange hue across the sky. A few birds flew across, chirping loudly. How lucky and free those birds were, they worried only about food and not being caught by a predator.
Serena had rolled to face the wall, knees tucked up slightly, one arm curled around the pillow. She propped it behind her back like a makeshift barricade. He sighed again and rested his chin against his hand.
Serena squeezed her eyes shut and held onto the sheet for dear life. She had to calm down and breathe. She let out a ragged breath, it raked through her chest like a stubborn cough.
"Would you still like water?" Darius asked.
Serena reluctantly let go of the red bedsheet and whispered a small, "Yes."
"I’ll be right back," he said.
She gave a small nod, though she doubted he noticed.
Once she heard the door click shut, she sat up and cradled her head in her hands. The pounding behind her eyes hadn’t lessened.
Maybe so part of her- the girl who used to hum while hanging herbs to dry, the one who laughed too loudly when Theodore teased her, still thought she’d return to Silverstone one day. As if everything could go back.
"Can you believe it, Feyra?" she murmured to the empty air. "They really think I’m dead."
Her laugh was breathless, without joy.
She yanked out the pins from her hair, one by one, until her bun collapsed and waves of golden strands spilled over her shoulders. She flopped back onto the bed, staring at the aging wood of the ceiling.
Her hair was spread out around her, it almost resembled a halo. Theodore must think he was the only one left in this world from her family. Did they confirm it, or did they just assu she would die?
Serena unconsciously bit her lip, almost drawing blood. Was it because of that ritual they did for her when she was a young girl?
You’re even more violent than your father. Her mother had always told her that. She looked like him and took on all his bad traits.
Theodore, her older brother, often said that after it was done, she never won any fights they got into. Serena was still proficient with weapons, but there was so kind of edge she had lost, sothing being tied down.
She pressed her index finger to her forehead. Feyra had witnessed everything that she had forgotten, but she refused to tell her.
The coincidences were starting to irritate her. Serena should have died. By all ans, even a fool would predict that outco. But she clung fiercely to life. And what was she living for?
It was hope that kept her moving. Ti and ti again, she had seen animals and people alike fight from the brink of death and return. Serena would go back to Silverstone. She would avenge Cullen and clear her na.
Yes, that was what she would do.
She sat up slowly, cradling her left hand in her right.
But how would she do that? Her heart clenched at the thought- she was alone, truly. No matter how comfortable she was around Darius, she could never tell him. It was the smart thing to do.
Her eyes rested on the wooden chair before her. She blinked slowly and finally noticed the room she was in. Surprisingly, it was the smallest bedroom she had entered since her arrival in Ironshade. Still, it was larger than hers back in Lupine Hollow.
Serena ran a hand through her hair, her fingers catching on a tangle she didn’t bother to fix. She let out a soft sigh. She could never let herself make this mistake again. It would make Darius ask a lot of questions, but thankfully, he just thought she was sick.
As if on cue, the old knob rattled and Darius let himself in, holding a large cup of water. He drew the chair closer to her and sat on it.
He held the cup to her lips and gave a small, expectant nod.
"You’re going to finish it all," he said, his voice low but firm. "I had Alexander put sothing in it that’ll soothe your headache."
Serena obeyed. The water was warm, laced with sothing faintly bitter. True to his words, her head felt lighter; like soone had just removed a tightly bound scarf from her head.
"Thank you," Serena said.
Darius set the cup to the side and leaned heavily on the seat, looking at her with such emotional eyes she couldn’t tell what he was feeling in the mont.
"I am fine, Darius," she assured.
"Enough, please."
Serena pressed her lips into a thin line and glanced down at her hands. "Was it sothing you ate?"
"What?" Serena asked, raising a brow.
"You are sick."
"I am?"
Darius’ brows scrunched and he moved to the edge of the chair, nodding vigorously. "Yes, you are sick. How else would you almost faint?"
"Ah..." Serena exhaled, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I am not, really."
"I know you’re trying to stay strong," Darius said, his tone gentler now, "but this is too much. And I should have done sothing sooner."
Serena reached out, her hand settling lightly over his. "You got water eventually, did you not?"
"Well-"
"And well, that is enough. Thank you, Darius."
Darius pulled his hand from hers and ran it through his hair. Suddenly, his neck felt hot. He coughed and nodded in acknowledgnt of her thanks.
He squinted at her hair and tilted his head to the side.
"You loosened your hair?" he asked.
Serena looked down at her shoulder to see the golden strands resting lazily against her clothes. "I did. I felt a bit light-headed and hot."
"I see." He cleared his throat. "I can help you change out of your clothes."
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