Harwal, book 3

Chapter 4

I have no idea what to do.

I'm sitting on my small bed, staring at the bland metallic walls. I'm not sure if I'm trying to find something wrong with the room, just so I would have an excuse to get out, or if I'm avoiding looking at the big guy.

Harwal has been quietly staring at me as I've been inspecting the room. And, God, have I inspected it.

The metal walls are fine, and the ceiling is fine. The bathroom was small, but also flawless, nothing wrong there. No leaking faucet, no mold, no rust. Nothing. And I tried, really tried, to look for something to complain about.

There are two dressers, two night tables, and two beds. The bed is bouncy and comfortable, small, but that's to be expected with the size of the room. I have no idea how Harwal is going fit in his bed, but that's not my problem. I hope he complains and gets a new room for himself.

Everything is cold and metallic. That could be something to complain about, but knowing Jas, she would see it as me trying to escape.

She wouldn't be wrong. I'm screwed.

"Is she finished with the fretting?" Harwal suddenly speaks up, jolting me from my haze.

I close my eyes and let the chills run through my back. I might have dug a grave for myself with this. This is a terrible mistake. Why did I insist on this?

It would've been so much better if Jas agreed on some other Zohra to work with me. They have Zohra women here, surely. Why can't one of them come to Joddel?

"Is she going to keep avoiding this Harwal? This will not work if she keeps quiet."

The guy stomps closer, and I have to snap my eyes open to see what he's doing.

Harwal obviously decided that personal space is non-existent, standing right in front of me with his looming size.

"Will she tell this Harwal why she's scared?" He asks, staring with that cursed, unblinking way. "Or should we start planning? We don't have time for her fear."

I scowl. "I'm not doing it on purpose." I wish it was so easy to just put the feeling aside.

"It's fine if she doesn't want to talk about it," Harwal says.

I crawl back on the bed, further from him, and sit on my knees with a deep breath. He isn't making it any easier for me, to be honest. His tone and stare feel much colder than yesterday. I guess my fainting made him hate me for some reason.

Maybe Jas had a point. He just existed, and I flipped my shit. He must feel—I scoff. These guys don't feel.

He looms next to my bed, arms crossed and staring. "This Harwal thinks she's not right for this mission."

"Excuse me?"

"She's not well."

My mouth hangs open. What the fuck does that mean? He doesn't even know me. "I'm afraid of Zohra, but otherwise I'm perfectly fine."

He narrows his eyes at me, almost says something, but stops. He sighs heavily and taps his arm.

"Do you want to know the reason?" I ask, not really wanting to share it. But if it makes him back the fuck away from me, I will.

"That's unimportant. She shouldn't let that affect her work."

So much for opening up, asshole.

"Fine," I snap. "Let's start with you talking the right way."

"Informal?" He says, tensing up.

"Yes, informal. You can't speak with your title and have to refer to people with 'you' and yourself as 'I'. You know the drill."