❝ she loved him,
but she kept pretending
she didn't because
she knew he didn't
love her the same ❞
In which the Snake of Ketterdam slithers out from the cracks of the Barrel to raise her head and break some bones.
【 Kaz Brekker x OC】
【 Grishaver...
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE ─── ❛ arguments and confessions ❜
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∘☽༓☾∘
𝖂hen Kaz returned to the room hours later, it was quiet. The hallway was dark, most of the bedroom doors closed off. Kaz had a feeling that Stasiaj would still be awake, knowing how irregular her sleep schedule, and sure enough, she sat at the dining room table, twirling a fang around her finger.
"I was waiting for you to get back," She mused, tilting her head to look at him and Kaz paused momentarily. Instead of the smooth skin, Stasiaj's face was marred by scars. Rope burns twisted around her neck, slowly fading to white. A jagged scar, much like she had been swiped with a claw, ran along her jawline, still angry red, whilst a final one curled around her eyes.
"Stasiaj..." Kaz trailed off, unsure of what to say. The girl shook her head, absentmindedly reaching up to scratch the scar on her jaw.
"I told you. Men get angry when they don't get their way," She shrugged, before taking another sip of the water in front of her. "How was the meeting?"
"Who did this?" Kaz ignored her question, sitting in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed.
"They're long dead, Kaz," She shook her head. "Can we just not talk about this? How was the meeting?"
"It was good," Kaz leant back in his seat, resting the crow cane on the table as Stasiaj nodded. "Sturmhond agreed to the terms."
"So, we're good to go ahead?"
"Not quite," Kaz licked his lips, wanting to reach for Stasiaj's hand. She seemed off, like something had changed and he regretted that he even had to tell her the next thing. "He wants to speak with you. The Grisha, they worked out you were Anastasiaj, and he heard and wants to talk to you."
"And you said no, right?" Stasiaj asked, looking at him through narrow eyes. "You said no, because that's my decision to make?"
"Well..."
"Kaz Brekker, you better have said no to that term," Stasiaj growled, sitting up straighter as the scars seemed to writhe with displeasure. "I'm trusting that you said no to that term."
"No," The boy mumbled, as Stasiaj's face fell into one of utter betrayal.
"I'm going to kill you," Kaz jumped from his seat to the other side of the table, as Stasiaj pulled her fangs free from her hair. "You better run, Bastard, because I'm going to murder you. How dare you?"
"Stasiaj, let's talk about it,"
"Oh no, it's Anastasiaj to you, Bastard," Stasiaj spat, her entire form trembling with rage. "I'm so patient with all of your trauma and about Jordie and then you go and pull shit like this! Since when did my past become a bargaining chip?"
