The Opelux and Other Monsters || Book One

CHAPTER 3 (PART 1) - UNKNOWN

I don't know how long it took for Tritteon's eyes to return to normal. I couldn't bring myself to look at him while they were like that. I could hardly handle his presence to begin with, but that confirmation that he really was as other as that extra sense inside me suspected had my heart pounding in my chest, every inch of me prickling with that icy hyperawareness, everything in me screaming danger.

But he never came any closer. He took to leaning up against the far wall, his arms folded across his chest, observing my every breath. Eventually, I got up the courage to steal a glance toward him and was relieved to find that his eyes had gone back to normal.

"If it makes you feel any better," he said, clearly enjoying my discomfort, "so long as I do not deem you a threat, I will not harm you."

I swallowed. "How one deems another a threat can be unfairly subjective."

He canted his head, those golden eyes gleaming. "Perhaps."

I looked away, at anything but him, and soon found my attention drawn toward the end of the bed where my cloak supposedly was. Something that actually belonged to me. I wanted it so badly, but I wasn't sure the iciness coursing through me would allow me to get up, and he was far too unpleasant to ask for help. I'd have to wait until he left to try. Whenever that might be.

"If you want it, by all means, your current state will not stop you," he said, his expression full of...amusement? Mischief? Anticipation? Something else I couldn't read... "And neither will I."

"I suppose you also won't help me either."

He straightened, dropping his arms, lacing his fingers in front of him. "Do you really want me coming closer?"

My mouth dried up so quickly I couldn't swallow.

He snorted quietly. "That is what I thought." He nodded toward the end of the bed. "Go ahead. I will not stop you."

I stared down at my thin hands for a long moment, so cold my skin was nearly translucent, every vein dark and prominent. Weak. Whatever they had done to me had made me so weak I couldn't see how I'd make it to my feet.

But he'd promised to stay where he was, not that I trusted him exactly. But he was all the way across the room. And I wanted that cloak. I wanted it so badly. They'd left me so entirely in the dark I was desperate for anything that might give me a sliver of an explanation, a hint of the truth. I had to try for it.

I had to use my hands to pull my boney, left leg in, my fingers nearly slipping on silky, white fabric, the muscles slow to respond, and swore, turning my face toward the window to hide my grimacing and stinging eyes. My knee cracked and popped like I was breaking ice and the muscles all the way up to my thigh knotted and twisted like a dozen charlie-horses. I pushed it back out, settled myself with a few deep breaths, and did it again—and was relieved to find the pain wasn't as bad. It took a third time, though, for the muscles to pitch in with the movement, making it even easier, and with a fourth, I felt it was safe to move on to the other leg. The pain was equal to the first, but I was expecting it this time and breathed through it better. The second and third times were even easier, the muscles finally kicking in to help like before, and after that fourth, I decided I was ready.

I slipped off the bed to the floor, my bare feet sinking into the thick, soft, white rug.

But that was as far as I got.

My legs gave out instantly. The floor came at me faster than my frozen limbs were capable of wisely reacting to, but that didn't stop them from trying.

My unhelpful hands scrambled back, reaching for support, slipped on the velvety comforter edge, and I toppled sideways. I found myself staring up at the glittering chandelier, gasping and cursing, suddenly more annoyed by whatever they had done to me then actually embarrassed.