CHAPTER 2
“Why don’t you freshen up while I fetch you something to eat,” he suggests, lightly tapping my knee. I feebly nod my head and let him help me to my feet. I walk like a zombie toward the bathroom. Axton explains how to operate the shower and how to activate the strange door.
He brings a warm, wet cloth to my neck without asking and begins cleaning the dried blood off. “I’ll get you something to heal that,” he says, tracing the thin cut in my flesh with the tip of his finger. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his fingers lingering on my skin. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but Logan needed to believe I would or he would never have let you go.”
I stare at him through anesthetized eyes. Almost floored by the intensity of his adoring gaze, I have zero desire or energy to decipher it. My fragile mind can’t cope with anything else.
There is a long hesitation before he eventually leaves.
When he’s gone, I shed my clothes as if on autopilot. I shiver as I step under the heavy stream of warm water. It’s like I’m having an out of body experience, as if I’m not really here. I continue to shiver even though vast clouds of heated steam surround me. I’m numb to the core.
My fingers explore the space behind my ear, curious to figure out what Griselda was referring to. I press the tip of one finger in firmly, and I feel a small solid lump under my skin. All the blood leaves my face in a rush. What did they put in me?
I jump out of the shower, almost slipping on my wet feet. Dashing to the mirror, I wipe the steam away until my image is crystal clear. Angling my head, I attempt to examine the implant in my skin, but I can’t get a proper view from this position, even though I bend my ear back until it’s stretched fully. Admitting defeat, I stare at my worn reflection. My left cheek is all the colors of the rainbow, and dark bruising paints ghostly shadows under my eyes. A noticeable red-rimmed cut scars the side of my neck.
I lean in and carefully inspect my eyes. When I transformed back on the ship, one of the first things I remember was a pink glaze filming my eyes. I sag in relief as my usual pale gray eyes look back at me. Maybe I’m mistaken, but … I don’t think I am. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I share similar physical traits to the Tor.
I shiver profusely as the thought tries to claw its way out of my mind. I force it away, unable or unwilling to face up to the truth.
Ignorance is bliss, I decide, for now.
My brain aches, and my heart hurts. I massage my temples, hoping the pulsing pain will go away. My shoulders throb with the invisible weight pressing down on me.
Somehow, I manage to dry myself and change into the long-sleeved sleep clothes Axton left for me. I crawl under the thin comforter, my wet hair plastering itself possessively to my face. My fingers clutch the double-heart pendant around my neck, and I stroke it lovingly, my last solid connection to Logan. Tucking it under the collar of my sleep shirt, I vow to conceal it, lest someone figures out exactly what it is. Right now, this pendant-slash-bomb could be my only way out of this misery.
I continue to shiver, unable to find any warmth. It’s just like my last memory recall, except this time I’m too numb to cry.
Even the click of the door opening and closing doesn’t pull me from my trance-like state. Axton puts a plate down beside me and perches on the edge of the bed. “Your hair is soaking wet.” Astute observation, I snark in my head, although my lips remain resolutely closed, my vocal cords neutralized like the rest of me. “May I?” he asks. I don’t respond or acknowledge him in any way. He sighs. I shut my eyes, wanting to blank out this day, and tomorrow, and every day after that.
Nimble fingers brush damp strands of my hair back off my face. Though I want to yell at him for touching me when I asked him not to, I can’t summon the energy. He combs my hair and pulls it into a low ponytail. Next, he applies some cooling gel-like substance to my injured face and neck. It could be my imagination, but it seems like his fingers dawdle a little too long on my skin. Either that or he’s very thorough.
“You need to eat,” he supplies. I see we’re onto the next stage of the “pretending to care” plan. I don’t know what this dude’s agenda is, but I’m not going to cooperate. Keeping my eyes closed, I continue to ignore him. Maybe if I pretend like I’m not here, I will somehow magically wake up back on the ship, ensconced in Logan’s soothing embrace. It’s a comforting thought, even though I know I’m hanging one-handed off the sanity ledge.
He sighs louder this time. “Shista, this is like history on repeat.”
My traitorous eyes flit open, and I look up at him. My heart is once again an empty organ in my chest. “If I eat something, will you leave me alone then,” I croak.
A muscle pops in his jaw, at odds with his placid timbre. “Yes. Eat and then you can sleep.”
I pull myself up, tucking my knees into my chest. Axton hands me a fork loaded with food, and I dutifully shovel it in my mouth. I push him away after a few mouthfuls, unable to stomach any more. He tidies up as I snuggle under the comforter, yanking it up tight under my chin. Leaning over, he drapes another blanket on top of me. “I’ll be outside the door if you need anything.” I close my eyes and pray for darkness to claim me. “Sadie,” he whispers, hovering over me. “I know you’re upset and scared, but you’re safe here. And you can trust me. I promise.”
Anger rears up, replacing the empty feeling, and I jerk up in the bed, glaring at him. “I’ve been taken here against my will, and it doesn’t seem to be the first time! This situation couldn’t be any less safe. And didn’t anyone ever tell you not to make promises you can’t keep,” I hiss.
“I made that promise to you a long time ago, and it’s as real now as it was back then. You don’t need to fear me or what’s ahead. Because I will be with you every step of the way. I have your back. Now, sleep.” He straightens up.
“Why?” I ask. He frowns. “Why do you have my back?”
His eyes glitter with unnamed emotion. “Because you’re my … you’re important to me.”
I was afraid he’d say something like that.
He stares at me in silent challenge, craving further interrogation, but I’m not going there. I don’t want to think about what he’s implying.
I’m too afraid.
I know I need to face the facts, and remain strong to extricate myself from this hideous situation, but not yet. I figure I’m owed at least one day to indulge my self-pity. One day to wallow in despair. To give into the soul-crunching heart-stomping pain ripping me to shreds on the inside.
Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow, I will steel my spine and strengthen my fortitude.
But right now, I need to drown in this.
I need to sink before I can swim.
Lying down on my side, I yank the covers back up and shutter my eyes, rudely blocking him out. He huffs out an exasperated sigh before quietly exiting the room, leaving me alone with my frantic thoughts.
All the events of today rush through my mind like a whirlwind. Unable to deal with any more of the heavy stuff, I pray to every deity I can think of to drag me into unconsciousness. But no one is listening. Every failed attempt leaves me frustrated and agitated. Purposely deflecting any thoughts of my hidden past, I concentrate on the only thing I know will distract me.
Logan.
He is never far from my thoughts. I wish I knew if he was okay. I wish I had some way of communicating with him so I could tell him how sorry I am. To advise him not to worry about me, even though that would be an outright lie. I test a few messages in my head to no avail. I don’t even know if communicating telepathically over long distances is possible for us. There was never time for Logan to explain.
And I can’t even think about Ella, or Jarod, or any of my other friends, because my mind feels like it’s tethering on the brink and one tiny shove will send me spiraling over the edge.
Acute pain ripples through me, and I wrap my arms around myself, desperately clinging on to the remnants of my sanity. Pummeling my fists into my forehead, I
wish I could extract my troubled brain and put it into storage for the night.
What I wouldn’t give to feel nothing right now.
Thankfully, at some point in the early hours, my tired mind finally succumbs and I fall asleep.
I’m enveloped in heat when I wake the next morning, as if I’ve slept the night away in a sauna. Sweat drips down the gap between my breasts and covers my back in a sticky blanket. Ew. I feel gross. I attempt to sit up but I’m restricted. A solid weight secures me to the bed at the waist and the legs. Swallowing the anxious lump in my throat, I open my eyes and peer at the muscular arm encapsulating me and the masculine legs thrust protectively over mine. I screech as I pound my fists into Axton’s arm.
He jerks away in alarm, falling off the side of the bed in the process. I scoot back, fisting the comforter in my hand, sheltering behind it. I’m shaking all over. He stands, fully clothed, rubbing his lower back.
“Why were you in bed with me? What did you do?” My voice trembles.
His hand stalls. “What?” His face sags. “It’s not what you’re thinking. You were crying in your sleep. I came in to settle you, and I must have nodded off myself. There was nothing sinister about it.”
I bark out a sarcastic laugh. “Everything about this whole scenario is sinister. And you getting into bed with me is creepy.” He takes a step toward me, and I raise my palm. “Don’t come near me.”
He wets his lips and scrapes his loose hair back off his face. “Sadie. I—”
“I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses. You’re a creep.” That fluttering panicky feeling in my chest refuses to go away. I shake all over.
He plops down on the bed and leans toward me with a pleading look on his face. I shove his chest with both hands, and he falls off the bed again. This time, when he hops up, anger contorts his face, though he quickly tries to hide it.
For some reason, that only infuriates me more. I lash out, slapping, pushing, and shoving him, as all my pent-up frustration makes a break for escape. “Sadie, stop, please.” He does his best to deflect my punches and throws. I beat his chest with my fists as tears pour down my face. “You are going to hurt yourself or me,” he says, his voice threaded with anguish. He gently grips my wrists as I continue to thrash about. “Please, Sadie.” The earnest, concerned look on his face breaks through the cage of pain, releasing me. My fighting spirit flees.
The door crashes open and Griselda stalks into the room. “You’re late.” She fixes her son with a look of annoyance, studiously ignoring me and my current swollen red-rimmed damp-eyed look. “Get her ready and report to the Perception Room in fifteen minutes.” She tosses a cursory look my direction before she storms back out of the room.
Axton climbs to his feet, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I’ll give you privacy to get dressed. I’ll wait outside the door.”
Axton appears lost in thought as we walk in silence to our destination. We travel to a room on the ground floor, and he steers me into the small space. There’s a control desk tucked into the corner, and a reclining chair occupies the center of the room, resting on a round metallic platform. Griselda appears to be the only one presiding over affairs. I cross my arms and pucker my lips. “Sit,” she commands less than charitably.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
She is in front of me in a flash, poking me with a bony finger. “You have clearly forgotten your place. Don’t push me. Sit. Down.” We face off, neither one of us backing down.
Axton sighs, as if this is draining for him. “Get in the chair, Sadie, and I’ll explain.”
I focus on him. “What makes you think I’ll do it for you?”
He grits his teeth. “Please.”
Axton appears to have a seemingly endless abundance of patience, and I know I should be grateful he’s being so nice to me, but I’m done being polite. I’m not going to help them torture me. “No.”
Griselda stalks to the door and ushers two guards in. “Put her in that chair. Use whatever force is necessary.”
I turn to face them, crouching into a defensive position, perfectly prepared to battle this out. Unexpectedly, I’m snagged from behind. Muscular arms lock around mine, and I wriggle uselessly as I’m lifted clear off the ground. Axton places me carefully in the seat, pressing my torso into the back of the chair. A harness whips across my waist as he fits my arms to the side. My wrists and ankles are restrained. I scream in frustration, thrashing about. “Please, Sadie. Stop fighting this.”
He’s beginning to sound like a robot, repeating the same instructions over and over again.
“I hate you!” I spit, rather immaturely, leveling my most poisonous look at him.
He locks his hands behind his head and lets out a strangled cry. I flinch. Griselda ignores his outburst, and our exchange, as if it’s perfectly normal. She directs the guards to take up position inside the corner of the room. Walking to the control desk, she extracts a clear case, sequestered into small rectangular segments.
Axton comes up beside me, all calm and collected again. “This is the Perception Room, a place where memory discs and visionary vials can be accessed safely and confidently. Mother has your file, and we are going to show you your history. That’s all this is. So please try to relax.”
I harrumph. “That’s easy for you to say. What if I don’t want to know? What if I’d rather be in the dark about my past?”
“This will help clarify things, Sadie. Things you already know that have been buried deep. You’ll be happier when you discover the truth.” His eyes intently penetrate mine, beseeching, pleading, praying.
Griselda places the clear box on a tall freestanding table by my side. She opens the lid and removes two small circular black discs.
“After today, you will fully understand why you were created. And what is required of you,” she says, leaning toward me with the discs raised in her hand.
I shrink back as far as I can in the chair. “Created?” I whisper, failing to shield my blossoming anxiety.
Axton winces while she ignores my question.
“Each file contains certain key memories from your past and visions of your future. Two discs per memory or vision, one for each temple. Once mother affixes them, the image will replay as if you are a silent observer in your own life. It’s a little strange at first, but you’ll get used to it,” Axton patiently explains.
“Enough mollycoddling, son,” Griselda says, sticking a disc to my left temple. “She’s not a little girl anymore.”
“You abducted me when I was a child,” I say, slotting some of the puzzle pieces into place.
“Give the girl a medal,” Griselda sneers.
My knuckles clench underneath my bindings, straining to punch her in the face. “Why?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Because of what I’m about to show you.”
“Which is?” I inquire.
She glares at me as if I’m an impudent child. “The vision of the future we traveled to at the outset. The catalyst for the whole plan. The reason why you were chosen above anyone else for this mission.”
“What am I going to see?” My speech is shaky as fear makes an unwelcome reappearance.
“Your future with Logan and the reason why he must die.”
CHAPTER 3
I blink rapidly, my mind spinning out of control. How can one statement contain such joy and despair in equal measure? “What do you know of our history with the Saven?” she asks me.
I answer in a daze. “I know they assumed your life form before the human form and that there was a time when both races co-habited peacefully, both here and on Saven. But after the extent of the conscience loss, the Saven chose to break away.” I pause, remembering something else Logan had told me. “Wait.” My attempt to sit upright in the chair is frustrated by my restraints. “This is some form of exacted revenge, isn’t it?”
“You’re catching on. Yes,” she confirms. “I see Logan gave you the sanitized version of our history.
Not that that surprises me. Our leaders rued the day they ever agreed to an alliance with the Saven. They infiltrated our society with their superiority and their arrogance, and they almost destroyed us when they left. Whole generations of families were ripped apart. The Saven didn’t just move here and live alongside us, they integrated into every facet of our lives. Marriages occurred, hybrid children were born, promises were made and broken. When the Saven withdrew, they left en masse. The king instructed everyone to return to Saven irrespective of the fact that so many were leaving spouses and children behind. They discarded us like we were worthless. Like our lives meant nothing to them.”
Her lips thin as her eyes narrow. “They left us to pick up the pieces without a backward glance. My grandfather and father were too weak to do anything about it when they were in charge, but I swore that I’d avenge our people. And that’s exactly what I’m doing now. The Saven will pay for the sins of their ancestors. I won’t rest until they do.”
Icy chills rip up and down my spine. I believe her. And that worries me enormously. “Where do I fit in?”
“One of the first things I did when I assumed leadership was to organize a contingent to travel into the future to see what we could learn about the Saven and how that would aid our planning. What we discovered blew my mind. It changed everything. This was no longer solely about vengeance. The intel we gleaned elevated this to mission-critical and gave us a means of achieving our aims.” She pauses dramatically and I quirk a brow. She grins wickedly. “Our greatest discovery was you.”
“Me?” My voice squeaks, betraying my incredulity.
She nods. “Yes. We found you supporting King Logan every step of the way. Not only that, we witnessed firsthand exactly how much you meant to him. Thereafter, the plan slotted nicely into place.”
“Let me get this straight,” I say, frowning. “You hopped into the future, saw me and Logan together, and then you … deliberately targeted me? Abducted me for a specific purpose?”
Saven Denial (The Saven Series Book 3) Page 2