Delta [Epsilon #2]

Chapter Forty-Eight

Kyra

******

Thankfully, Faelen didn't let on about the messy state of my room as he walked over to my bed and set me down. I sat up instantly, not wanting to seem entirely weak -- even if every inch of my felt like jelly. Still, there was no judgement on Faelen's face as he silently pulled up a chair and sat before me.

My eyes flicked again to the mark on his face, and that's when I noticed the red blisters appearing on the skin. Horror wrenched my gut. "Did I do that?"

Faelen blinked at me, taking a moment to understand what I was referring to. He pointed to the mark. "This? Yeah, you struck me when I got too close."

Guilt gnawed at my chest. "I'm sorry."

He arched a brow, smiling. "You're... apologising?"

"Well, I burnt your face."

"And I zapped your friend. Isn't that much worse?" He leaned forward, eyes like lanterns. I couldn't help but notice the finer details of his face this up close, like the straight angle of his nose, or the sharp set of his cheekbones. "Unless you think this makes us even?"

His smile was so hopeful and innocent, I couldn't help but laugh. "No. Not by a long shot. I think I'd have to burn you to a pile of ashes before we come anywhere close to 'even'."

He gave me a mock pout. "But what if I told you your punch packed a sting? That it felt like I was being hit by a semi-truck?" His eyes twinkled at my kindling smile. "Well, it was more of a slap than a punch, but still. You must have been holding back all those other times, because that slap stung like a son of a bitch, even without the fire."

I laughed again. I laughed until my chest hurt, until my eyes stung. I laughed until I began to cry. Before long, sharp sobs were heaving out of me, and I covered my face with my hands. Faelen was instantly by my side.

"Did I say something--"

"No, no. It wasn't you," I choked out. I continued to drench my hands with tears until he tentatively pulled one away, staring at me with concerned eyes. I sighed with a tear-stained voice. "It's just... I hate it. I hate the way he can take control of me whenever he likes. I hate how just his voice alone is enough to fill me with dread. I hate..." -- I choked on a sob -- "I hate how afraid I am. I've never been so... scared."

I shook with sobs again. Within seconds, my hands were torn away from my face, and Faelen's eyes bore into mine.

"Hey. The Kyra I know is never afraid."

"Then you don't know me at all," I hissed, wiping my cheek on my shoulder.

He looked contemplative. "No, I think I do. The Kyra I know has the balls punch the Lord of the North square in the jaw. More than that, she had the nerve to threaten him in front of his own court. I'd say that's pretty damn fearless."

His smile was small, but it was enough to lift me. "Oh, yeah?" I wiped my face. "What else do you know about her?"

He tugged on my wrists, pulling for forward so that I was staring into his face. "Well, I know she has the meanest glare of the century. If looks could kill, everybody would be dead."

"You're one to talk," I joked, recalling how unnerving his stare could be. How could mine ever possibly compare? Still, there was something nice in knowing he viewed it that way.

"She also has the nerve to charge head-first into the den of her enemy to save her friends. Stupid, maybe, but brave all the same."

"And that would have succeeded if it weren't for you," I remarked with an eye roll.