Book 2 Season's Change Spring's Revenge

Part 6 The Meaning of Fear*

A/N

The following part contains graphic and mature content. It is recommended for mature audiences ONLY.

This chapter may contain triggers. If you are triggered by sexual assault/rape (there are no descriptions and it does not take place in this chapter) please do not read this chapter. Just skip over it.

Please read with care. Seek Help if you need it.

Sexual assault is a crime. This chapter, and anything I have ever written or will ever write, is NOT intended to make light of that.

Shelly Keller

Avriel looked at Katana with fear in his heart. The brigand had a force with him that was greater than they could take on. That fear stopped in his chest the moment his eyes landed on her. She had frozen in place. Her eyes locked on the brute. She looked like she was so filled with fear, anger, and remembered pain that she was trembling and whimpering. As the tears ran down her face his young heart shattered, and anger filled the cracks left by its breaking. His beautiful, powerful friend was reduced to a whimpering, cowering mess at the site of a man. It tore his aching heart to pieces. The proud, graceful warrior and huntress that he hunted beside. The strong, confident woman he spent his every waking moment beside was left so broken and shattered by what that man had done to her that she was reduced to less than she was. He could not handle the pain he felt.

He could not know or experience what she had. He just couldn't. But he could see what the end result was. He could see the hurt and the anguish as it covered her and consumed her. He could only imagine how she felt, only see her pain. But he could swear, watching Katana, that he could feel it as his own. It had become a tangible thing. He could feel it on his skin, raising the hairs on the back of his neck and his arms, taste it on the air that hung heavy between them, the horrors she must have endured, yet she endured. He waited for her fear to break and for her to come back to him. He watched and he waited. She was so wounded he feared she'd never return.

No amount of training would ever be enough to heal her wounds. She had been broken in such a profoundly fundamental horrible way that the mark upon her soul was like a dagger to the heart. It left her broken and in tears, unable to move one way or the other. Her body was frozen, her mouth open in a silent scream. She would not rush into a battle they were not prepared for; she didn't seem to be capable of movement at all. He would have a hard time moving her to safety and a harder time still holding his own blades as the rage he felt building filled him.

He fought to keep his emotions in check and set his them aside to help her with hers. He had never seen the results of such brutalization directly; most definitely not in anyone that he knew. His innocence had been preserved until that moment. He hadn't known. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to. He knew of the abuse that slaves and even paid servants suffered in the east, but he had no clue about the power a man held over a woman when he took her virtue, or how devastating it was. He thought it was just a physical thing, thought it wasn't that big of a deal. He thought wrong. He was witnessing the results of the trauma in the strongest woman he knew at just the sight of the man that violated her. He despised what he saw. He wanted to touch her, make contact with her, and connect to her to let her know she was safe with him, that he would never harm her. That was what his heart wanted to do but the logical, intelligent part of his mind said now was neither the time nor place for that. They needed to first, get back to the safety of the trees, then their cave.

He spoke her name as loudly as he dared and waited for her eyes to find and focus on his before he reached out to her. To do anything otherwise would have been folly. He had learned that lesson the hard way and bore a small scar on his ribsfor it. She would have likely responded on instinct or with a scream and given away their position. Both would likely lead to his death. He didn't want that. He reached up and wiped away her tears and nodded. "I--," He tried to speak but found himself at a complete loss for words as tears fell from his eyes. He wanted so much to wipe her pain away, to tell her, show her in any way he could that all men were not like that man. He wanted her to know the gentleness of human touch, kindness, and love. He wanted to share his beliefs with her and give her all of his love. But the place was not his. He had a duty and it bound him, barring such things.