HIS LIPS FIT seamlessly with mine. As my mouth pressed feverishly against his, he reciprocated with a ferocity that made me purr. He wanted me just as I wanted him, maybe even more. As his hands moved against my body, a tingling sensation spread over my skin like wildfire. Every part of my body lit like a struck match. My mind wheeled and my heart ignited. And I felt something for the first time, something other than hate or fear or guilt. I felt alive.
Somehow, we made our way to the bed. Triven was careful to keep me on top, to let me stay in control. While his hands firmly held me, I knew he would stop the second I asked him to. Only I didn’t ask.
We lay pressed together, mouths moving in unison until we couldn’t breathe. When I finally pulled away, gasping for air, his lips trailed my jaw before resting next to my ear. We laid in silence listening to each other’s breathing. Beneath me Triven’s heart hammered against his chest.
My lips grazed the cut on his neck and the guilt came back. Carefully I ran my finger over the healing skin. Then surprising myself, I kissed it. Triven’s arms closed around me.
“I thought you were going to run.” He whispered in my ear. There was pain in his voice, as if the idea hurt him. “When you were standing on the fire escape. There was this look in your eyes and I thought you were going to run.”
I pressed my ear to his chest. “I was going to. At least I thought I was going to.”
He ran his hand through my hair. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
I was silent. I was glad I stayed too. Wasn’t I?
His fingers sought mine, the pads running over my bruised and raw knuckles. Even his gentle touch stung. I balled them into fists, ashamed of what I had done. He pressed his cheek to my forehead, closing his hand protectively over mine.
“Phoenix, what you did… it was—”
“Dishonorable,” I cut him off. “I lost control. I felt like… like I lost who I was. When I saw that man on top of Archer, I just snapped. It was like watching my mother… I have never lost control like that. Never. I mean, I have killed people before— I’m not proud of it— but it was always a kill or be killed situation. But tonight… I… I… Then I turned on you.” I buried my face in his chest. “Triven I never meant to hurt you. I would never… And my parents, what if Arstid is right? What if they were the cause of your father’s death? You should hate me Triven. You should want me to suffer for what they’ve done. For what I have done. I am not a good person. Why did you save me Triven, why didn’t you just let me die in that alley?”
The words began to pour out and I couldn’t stop them. They had been eating away at me. He just held me tighter and let me sputter out on my own. Once my breathing calmed he spoke.
“We have all done things we’re not proud of. None of us are murderers by nature and no one could ever blame you for what you did. We have grown up in a world filled with hate and violence, and it’s bound to seep in eventually. You are not a bad person Phoenix; you are a product of the world that raised you. But the pain you feel proves that you are still a good person, that you have held on to your humanity. My father died saving my life, but that is in the past. I can’t change it. Even if your parents did set his death in motion, you are not them. You may be a product of your parents, but they’re not who you are. Too many people get caught up in the past. If we keep punishing people for what their parents or their ancestors have done, the world as a whole can never move forward. Society will never grow. With time, open wounds only fester, better to let them heal and forgive than to fester with hate."
He was right. A part of me knew he was right, but I still didn’t feel worthy of his forgiveness— or of Mouse’s trust. Both of these righteous, kind people trusted me, but I barely trusted myself. I had put all of my faith in my parents, but what if I had been wrong to do so? What if they were everything Arstid claimed they were? I was angry at her for poking a hole in the fragile bubble that was my world. I was angry with my parents for leaving me alone here. And I was angry with myself for questioning them and for not questioning them sooner.
“Do you want me to leave?” Triven whispered. I could only just detect the pain in his voice.
Yes.
“No.”
I don’t know…
We laid in silence for a while as his words swirled though my mind. The moment of passion between us was gone, but his body still felt good next to mine.
“Mouse will be coming soon.” I said.
“She is staying with Maribel tonight.” He paused. “I hope that’s okay, I thought it would be good for her to spend time with children her own age.”
“I think that’s a good idea.” I was not the role model she needed; more time with normal undamaged people was good for her. I rolled away from him. Triven would be better off away from me too. But as my body moved from his, he followed. His arm draped over me as his breath tickled my ear. I should have pushed him away, but I didn’t want to. It was selfish, I knew that. I would only hurt him, but I wanted him here. My lips still tingled from where he had kissed me and despite every logical part of my brain, I liked it.
“Why did you save me, Triven?” I kept my back to him. It was easier to talk when I didn’t have to look into his eyes.
“The night I saved you in the alley, it wasn’t the first time I saw you.”
I stared hard at the metal door, trying to keep my voice calm. “What do you mean it wasn’t the first time you saw me?”
I could feel his wince. “I had gone to pick up new books for my collection and while I was gathering some books on history, a girl dropped down out of the ceiling vent.”
I flushed with anger at myself. How had I not realized he was there?
“You moved nearly as silently as I did. At first I thought you were a Tribesman, but you showed no signs of belonging to any Tribe. The longer I watched you, the more I began to realize you were a rogue. At first I thought you had come looking for books to burn. I thought about stopping you, but then I realized you were reading them. I had never met another person outside of The Subversive who could read. I was about to approach you when the Ravagers showed up.” Anger singed his tone. “I saw them before you did, but there was no way to warn you. Instead I led them away. By the time I returned you had disappeared.”
“I never even knew you were there.” I admitted. I was now indebted to him twice.
“I know.” He sounded a little smug. “Then that night I found you again. When I realized you were the one in the alley saving the little girl… I had never seen anyone like you. You were utterly captivating. But we weren’t fast enough. At first I thought we were too late, that I would never get to meet the girl who had so quickly stolen my heart, but then you woke up.”
I thought back on all of the times Triven had watched me, each time he had defended me and trusted me. While I had been looking at him for any sign of deception, he had been looking for love. My chest tightened. I wasn’t capable of love, was I? I had read about it, dreamt about it even, but it was a wasted emotion that only caused pain and heartache. But as Triven’s chest rose and fell against me, I felt something. What though, I wasn’t sure.
Cook’s drink was still heavy in my system and I was finding it hard to keep my eyes open. Triven’s breathing had grown deeper as well.
“What’s your real name?” His words slurred a little with sleep.
I had never told anyone this, no one living remembered who I was before I became Phoenix. Arstid knew my parents, but even she knew no details from my past. I waited two heartbeats as I thought and he retracted his question.
“Never mind, sorry to ask. I understand you don’t want to talk about it. Can you tell me why you picked the name Phoenix though?” He stifled a yawn. “It seems to suit you.”
“When my parents died, I was only eleven. I saw the whole thing happen, my mother’s rape, both of my parent’s brutal murders. I remember biting my hand so hard I nearly gagged on my own blood. I wanted to die with them. To forget everything I had just seen. But
my mother had told me to survive and I couldn’t bear to let her last words be forgotten. When I finally got out of the storm drain, I realized a large part of me died in that alley with my parents. Maybe that’s why I remember so little of my life before then. Their sweet eleven-year-old child no longer existed. And I was what rose from her ashes.” I swallowed thickly.
“It’s the perfect name.” Triven’s breath warmed my ear. He no longer sounded sleepy. I shuddered, not knowing if it was from being cold or from dredging up old memories. Reflexively, I pressed my back farther into him seeking a comfort that I’d never known before. His arm wrapped over me, anchoring me to him like a safety line.
We lay in silence as the weight of the day dragged us into the world of sleep. Just before I drifted away, I offered him something I hadn’t given to anyone before, the last piece of my old self I had left. As I whispered in the darkness I could feel sleep taking me. But before I succumbed, I heard the sound of my name as he repeated it. It was a name no one had spoken in six years, and a shiver ran down my spine.
“Prea.”
New World Rising Page 21