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Possession

Page 11

by Samantha Britt


  “Hello,” I called out.

  As a unit, they walked down the aisle, blocking the way behind them. I didn’t need to turn around to know the other end of the aisle was more than thirty feet away. There was no way I could turn around and casually walk out that direction. The memory of the last time I’d encountered hostile draekon in the library filled my head. Rolling my shoulders back, I braced myself for another slur as they drew near.

  The female in front sneered, looking me up and down. “You’re Amelissa, right?”

  As if she didn’t already know. “I am,” I confirmed. “Can I help you?”

  Her eyes narrowed, and that’s when I recognized her. She was the draekon I’d seen speaking with Prince Finn during Jona’s reception. And just like then, she glared at me like I was worth less than the dirt beneath her feet.

  “Yes,” one of her friends spoke up. “You can keep your pathetic Caldirian hands off of Prince Finn.”

  I tried to hide my reaction, but I was sure the truth of my recent encounter with the prince was easy to see. Still, I attempted to lie, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “No? Perhaps we can jog your memory.”

  I didn’t see the slap coming.

  My head snapped to the other side and my ears rang. Draekon strength was no joke, even in the less muscular females.

  I cupped my cheek, looking back at her with burning eyes. “What was that fo” The leader of the trio smacked me again before I could finish the question. Knocked off balance, I fell to the floor.

  The three draekon took turns kicking me in my stomach and legs. I shouted and curled into a ball. They started kicking my back, stealing my breath.

  I bit my cheek and tasted blood. I grunted and gasped, but I didn’t have enough air in my lungs to call out for help.

  Their sharp kicks stayed below my shoulders. I listened for anyone nearby, but I knew I was in a nearly abandoned area of the library. No one was coming to my aide. I curled into a tighter ball, bracing myself for impact.

  “Enough.” On cue, the kicks ceased.

  The pain was overwhelming. I barely heard when one of the draekon leaned down and hissed into my ear, “Stay away from Prince Finn.”

  I blinked and tried to focus on her face, but she and her friends were already moving away.

  I stayed curled on the ground, wishing the gods still cared about the lives of lowly humans. I could have really used their intervention. The females knew about the prince’s spontaneous kiss. The servant’s face from last night came to mind, and I knew he was responsible for sharing the information. I couldn’t even trust the princes’ personal servants.

  The gods seemed determined to let me suffer on my own. Tears pricked me eyes, and I didn’t try to stop them from falling.

  I hated what my life had become. I absolutely hated it.

  13

  Several minutes passed before I was able to push myself into a sitting position. I wiped away evidence of my tears and winced. The muscles pulling on my back ached with every motion, and I had to take deep breaths to keep my nausea at bay. As a healer, I’d seen many injuries resulting from drunken fights in a tavern, but I’d never experienced the agony firsthand. I knew purple bruises were forming under my skin, and I needed to compress the area before it started to swell.

  I sucked in sharply, using the shelves next to me to climb off the floor. My knees shook, and beads of sweat broke out on my forehead. I needed to move before I fainted.

  Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I hunched over and staggered out of the aisle to leave the library. I didn’t both trying to gather my belongings. I wouldn’t be able to carry the books in my injured state.

  I had to walk through the library’s foyer to exit, exposing my pain to everyone in the room. No one asked if I was all right. My simmering anger continued to rise, but I swallowed it back and forced it to remain dormant in my chest. Now was not the time to break down. They could see evidence of my physical injuries, but I refused to let anyone see my emotional ones. My attackers wouldn’t know how much their violence affected me if I could help it.

  My journey through the halls was just as slow and painful. I shuffled towards the concealed servant stairwells, whimpering with every step up to the royal apartments. I fell against the princes’ door, nearly weeping with relief when I made it to my destination. I opened the door and managed to push it closed before falling into a heap on the ground.

  Every inch of my body screamed in agony. The bruises along my skin didn’t want any pressure. Even my loose shirt irritated the battered surface.

  With my cheek pressed into the ground, I closed my eyes and tried to will the pain back. Pure willfulness and indignation had fueled my agonizing journey back to the apartments, but now that I’d arrived, the injuries sucked away my energy. I needed to find a way to tolerate it if I ever wanted to get off the floor again.

  A vibration rippled across the floor, tickling my cheek. It sounded like footsteps in the distance. I was too distracted by pain to realize the noise stopped abruptly.

  “Amelissa? What are you doing on the floor?”

  My eyes flew open as I recognized Prince Brion’s voice. “P-prince B-brion.” My throat had dried out. I tried to lift my torso, but my arms wobbled and collapsed. My shoulder hit the floor and I cried out.

  A second later, shiny black boots filled my vision. Slowly, I rotated my neck and looked up. I blinked as I noted the level of concern etched across his face.

  Prince Brion held his hands out over me, looking like he wanted to lift me, but he was scared of hurting me. “What happened to you?” Emotion thickened his voice.

  I didn’t want to have this conversation with anyone, much less that prince. Especially not while I was cowered on the floor.

  “Will you help me up?” I lifted a trembling hand.

  Prince Brion wrapped his strong fingers around my palm. Gently, he pulled me forward so I sat sideways. Taking my other hand, he lifted me to my feet. I tried to hide my discomfort, but my face revealed betrayed me.

  He didn’t release me even when I regained balance. “What happened to you?”

  I avoided his piercing gaze. “It’s nothing, Prince Brion. Please, don’t concern yourself.”

  “It’s Brion,” he reminded me, “and this is not nothing. You’re as pale as the moon, and you look like you can hardly stand.”

  What could I say? If I told him how three draekon females attacked me, Prince Brion would want me to identify them, and I feared the repercussions of revealing what they’d done to me.

  I wasn’t stupid; I knew the females were nobles—only elevated draekon were invited to Court. My attackers were members of the most wealthy and powerful draekon families in the kingdom. The draekon were strong enough to have easily killed me with one well-placed blow. But they didn’t. I suspected their punishment for bruising a human recruit would be minimal.

  The strategic attack had been a warning to stay away from Prince Finn, but I would receive much worse if I exposed their crimes to the prince.

  Besides, telling him of the attack would mean potentially revealing their motive. And just thinking of telling Prince Brion about kissing his brother made my stomach twist.

  No. I wasn’t going to say a word. Not right now, anyway. I needed time to think. I could decide how to handle the situation later. For now, I needed to convince Prince Brion not to worry.

  “Lissa,” he said my name on a sigh. It was as if he’d heard me announce my stubborn decision out loud.

  “I’m fine.” I tried to step out of his hold to demonstrate my ability to stand, but his fingers tightened.

  His dark eyes swirled with emotion. “Did someone hurt you?” He swallowed, looking like the mere thought pained him, too. His concern was touching but confusing at the same time. I wanted to relieve him of the burden.

  “I can handle it.”

  That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say.

  In the blink of an eye, Prince Brion’
s concern melted away into a dangerous calm. His entire body stilled except for the tick in his jaw muscle. “Turn around.”

  “What?”

  “Turn around. Now.”

  Not wanting to incite his rage, I obeyed. Wincing, I shuffled my feet until my back faced the prince.

  I felt his fingers brush my neck. “What are you” I heard the sound of fabric tearing. Prince Brion ripped my blouse straight down the middle, exposing my entire back to the room’s cool air.

  I gasped and tried to spin around despite the stab of pain in my ribs, but his firm hands landed on my shoulders, holding me in place. My skin heated from head to toe and I squirmed. No male had ever seen so much of my skin, and that included swimming with Jem. My bathing suit had been modest, covering my entire torso down to mid-thigh. Seeing my legs was nowhere near as scandalous as exposing my back from shoulder blade to the dimples above my rear. The only cover came from the thin band wrapped around to hold my chest down.

  “Damn the gods,” he muttered, appalled by the sight of my injuries before him. “I was only gone for one day.” He sounded guilty, like he was responsible for the attack. Little did he know, he played no part in the jealous actions of the three females.

  “It’s not that bad,” I tried to console him.

  “Of course, it’s bad,” he growled. “Look at you. No wonder you collapsed on the ground.”

  I didn’t respond. Chances were my words would just incite his anger even more.

  “Who did this?”

  I bit my tongue.

  “Dammit, Lissa. You need to tell me who did this to you, so they can be punished.”

  I inhaled slowly. “No.”

  His fingers on my shoulders trembled with rage. “Why not?”

  “I can handle my problems on my own. I don’t need you to save me.”

  He snorted. “Like you didn’t need me to save you from that elven bolt on the balcony?” He referenced the night of the second rebel attack. I’d been eavesdropping on his and Agent Min’s conversation when it began. The prince had jumped up and knocked me to the ground to save me from the shot fired from the sky.

  “This is different.” I flinched as one of his fingers lightly traced a tender spot near my lower ribs. It didn’t hurt, but the caress shocked me.

  He removed his touch. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “I know.” I kept my face forward, hiding the extent of my embarrassment and lingering pain. “It’s just sore. I’ll be fine.”

  His boots rubbed together as he moved to stand in front of me. I pulled my sleeves higher on my shoulders, making sure they didn’t slip down and expose me any further.

  Again, I noted the concern swirling in his eyes as he scanned my face.

  “Why won’t you tell me who did this to you?” He’d abandoned his irritated tone. The question was soft and imploring. He wanted me to confide in him, but that was the last thing I could do, even if I wanted to.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. “I can’t. You don’t understand.”

  “What don’t I understand?”

  My eyelids parted. “I’m tougher than I look, Brion. I can handle what’s going on. Please, believe me. I’m not a weak human who needs a prince to interfere on her behalf.”

  His eyes shifted, appearing reptilian. “No one said you are weak, but it is my duty to protect you.”

  “No, it isn’t. You might be my boss… captor… whatever you consider yourself, but you aren’t responsible for me. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it my whole life.”

  Prince Brion’s expression fell. For a moment, I thought he looked dejected–like my words had hurt his feelings.

  But that was ridiculous. Right?

  I watched as he shut his eyes and inhaled through his nostrils.

  On his exhale they opened, and his gaze returned to its stoic and unfeeling hardness. “Fine. Forgive me for caring, Amelissa. I can see you’d rather suffer at the hands of your abusers than put your trust in me.”

  “That’s not what I”

  He lifted a palm, silencing me. “I will summon Master Errol to see to your injuries.” He stepped around me and left the apartment without another word.

  The moment the door slammed closed, shame weighed heavy on my shoulders. I’d let my pride and fear of retaliation keep me from confiding in the prince. He could’ve helped me. We’d been so close to establishing something close to friendship, but I continued to let my previous prejudices and fears get in the way of truly trusting him.

  But Prince Brion, I realized, was the last draekon alive I wanted to feel sorry for me—I would much rather have his respect—but I was pretty sure I’d just ruined any chance of that happening with my stubbornness.

  For the second time that day, fearful and frustrated tears tracked down my cheeks. I was no longer capable of taking care of myself on my own. I didn’t stand a chance against any jealous, superior beings. I was completely at their mercy, and I feared I’d just isolated the one male who might’ve been able to help me.

  14

  By the time Master Errol arrived, I’d managed to walk to my room and collapse on my bed. My torn blouse remained open, but I could hardly find it in me to care. Everything was a mess, and I seemed determined to make it worse.

  I heard the door open, and my previous superior entered my room without announcing himself. I heard his grunt when he saw my battered back, but he didn’t ask me what happened. I suspected Prince Brion had already told him all he needed to know. I considered it a small mercy that the women’s slaps hadn’t marked my face. As long as no one saw me naked, they wouldn’t know of the marks.

  The healer opened his satchel and began applying ointment to my wounds. He stopped after my third hiss of pain.

  “I’m going to give you white willow bark to relieve the pain.”

  “No,” I mumbled into the pillow. I’d tried to use it to hide my moans. “Just keep going.”

  “Take the damn medicine, Lissa.”

  I gasped and turned to see Prince Brion standing near the door. I hadn’t expected him to return. His arms were crossed, and he looked ready to force the herb down my throat if I didn’t agree. I licked my lips and nodded before hiding my face back in the pillow.

  Master Errol shuffled away to make the elixir. I heard the prince abandon his post and walk toward the healer. The males spoke quietly. I didn’t bother trying to listen. I knew they were discussing me and my injuries.

  Master Errol returned with the concoction. He held it out to me. “Drink.”

  I grimaced but managed to sit back on my haunches. I clutched the pillow to my front and took the light brown drink. Wanting to minimize tasting the foul medicine, I emptied the cup in four gulps.

  The healer hummed his approval and took the cup away. Prince Brion had moved to the end of my bed and stared down at me.

  My earlier guilt returned, and I found myself saying, “I’m sorry.”

  His expression shifted, and the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. “For?”

  Already feeling the effects of the medicine, I managed a small chuckle. I must’ve been delirious from pain. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

  “Absolutely.” His lips curved.

  I exhaled. “I’m sorry for not telling you what happened. And I’m sorry for the worry this is causing you.” I was the prince’s secretary. He felt an obligation to keep an employee safe, and I was actively preventing him from doing so. Of course, he would be frustrated and angry. He had a reason to be.

  His next words caught me off guard. “I was wrong to push you to tell me what happened. If you promise to take care to avoid such an encounter again, I will wait for you to confide the truth to me.”

  His concession was out of character. Before he had the chance to reconsider, I quickly agreed. “I promise.”

  Master Errol returned and instructed me to lie on my stomach again. Even though the medicine was numbing my back, I took care to move slowly so as not to
disrupt the injuries.

  I positioned my cheek against the pillow, so I could see Prince Brion. Seeing my back robbed the amusement from his gaze. He tried to hide his expression when he noticed my attention. I smiled softly, and my eyelids began to droop. I tried to keep them open, but it was as if someone was pressing down on them to force them closed.

  “What else did you give me?” I asked, recognizing the bark wouldn’t cause such drowsiness.

  “Something to make you sleep while I probe your ribs for breaks.” There was no regret in Master Errol’s voice.

  “Sneaky master healer.” I yawned and my eyes closed. I felt the mattress move. I managed to pry my lids apart to see the prince sitting on the bed next to me. He reached out and grabbed my hand. Even in my drowsy state, the touch made my pulse quicken.

  “Just relax, Lissa,” he told me soothingly. “We won’t let anything else happen to you.”

  Consoled and unable to fight off the medicine’s effect, my eyes shuttered closed. I sighed, tightening my fingers around Prince Brion’s hand. A soft smile pulled at my lips as I was dragged into a medically induced sleep.

  “Amelissa is still recovering. I will not subject her to our father’s presence when he could very well be responsible for her injuries.” The angry, loud words pulled me out of my dream.

  I’d been exploring the mystical land of Avelin, marveling at its imagined beauty and magical environment. I was on a quest to find the missing princess, hoping to end the violence between the elves and draekon when the sound of the ongoing argument woke me up.

  “We don’t have a choice.” I recognized Finn’s measured tone. “Our father summoned us, and he demanded we bring our secretary. Amelissa must be there.”

  “We will go without her,” I heard Brion say. “If Father asks where she is, I will answer for her absence.”

  “And then he will reprimand us for disobeying a direct order.” As always, Finn sounded reasonable. “Besides, if you think father is truly responsible for Amelissa’s assault, it would be unwise to give him a reason to do something again.”

 

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