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69

Summer

“ D idn’t think you’d be back,” Max grunts. He drops one of the heavy dummies into the middle of the room.

I notice that he’s prepared the room for our session, so he’s obviously a liar as well as a dick. “Sorry to burst your bubble,” I grumble.

He smirks. “Ready to fight me, then?”

I nod and pull my gloves on.

“If I land a hit, it will break a bone. I’m not going to hold back.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s something weirdly refreshing about training with a berserker who won't go out of his way to protect me when we’re training. There is something almost liberating about it. “Let’s just do this.”

Max barely waits for me to get into position before he swings, and I barely dodge it. I nearly lose my balance, stumbling when he throws the next punch. His fist just misses my face, and I can feel the force of his swing. Max throws another punch, and this time, not only do I dodge it, but I also run away from him.

“Stop aiming at my face, dick.”

He gives me a bemused look. “You think your opponent won’t go for your head and face just cause you’re hot?”

I blink, caught off guard by the almost compliment. “Well… maybe.”

Max snorts. “Come on, try to hit me back.”

I get into position and swing for him. He easily dodges, and his fist collides with my ribs. The air rushes from my lungs, and my stomach tries to follow it with the sharp pain from his jab.

“Fuck.” I cough, bracing my hands on my thighs and trying to breathe through the pain and nausea.

“I told you I would break a bone if I landed a hit. You’ll heal in a few minutes,” Max quips, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe actually try this time.”

With every inhale, it feels like a hot poker is stabbing my lung, and when I try to straighten, the pain is excruciating.

“And that was just my normal strength, not even touching the berserker.”

“You’re a cunt,” I wheeze out, my chest burning as my bone starts to fuse back together.

“And you’re a stubborn ass.”

I lunge for him, pushing through the pain and plunging my fist into his stomach, striking faster than he can react.

Max’s breath hisses out, and his eyes glow green. I’m about to hit him again when he holds his hand up. “Wait. Don’t. I need… control.”

Is he fucking kidding? He breaks one of my ribs, but he can’t get hit in the stomach without needing to leash the berserker? Fuck him. I roll my eyes and turn, leaving the sparring room.

“Get your ass back here,” he growls.

I whirl on him. “Are you fucking kidding me? You want me to fight with you. I do, and get one punch in before you go all Berserker Ballistic on me?”

Max snaps his teeth. “You took a cheap shot. The berserker could snap you like a twig.”

“All of your shots are cheap because I don’t fucking know what I’m doing,” I snarl.

“Because you’re using your head and not your instinct!” Max growls back, throwing another punch. I dodge it easily, fueled by my anger. “Don’t think.” He strikes out at me again. “Don’t be smart.” He spins, kicking out at me. “Just survive.”

I dodge each one, almost anticipating each of his moves.

“Faster,” Max commands, closing the distance between us and pushing me into more intricate footwork. “Faster, damsel. Stand your ground, or I’ll back you into the wall, and you’ll be stuck.” I give another step, and he swings again. “Sloppy. Don’t let me gain space.”

He swings again, and I back up again. A kernel of doubt sprouts, strangling my fledgling confidence. Suddenly, my instincts become lost to the white noise, and I feel the bricks behind my back. Max slams his fist into the wall right beside my head, and the stone quakes beneath his hit. “Stop holding back.”

I look up at him, my body shutting down.

“I grew up hating the berserker side. It was blind rage and destruction.”

Panic creeps in, and my breaths quicken. It’s not from fear of him but of how easily I slipped into my instincts. Those abilities are the gateway to my other side and the power I swore to keep locked away.

“Most of my family are little more than their berserker. It drove my mother to take her own life.” He looks away, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “Your power can be your destruction or your salvation. I know what mine is now.” He looks at me, his face once again hard. “When are you going to decide which yours is?”

I feel that still unfamiliar heat of tears stinging my eyes.

Max raises his hands and steps back. “We’re done for today.” He turns, giving me his back, and I swallow, holding back the dry sobs stuck in my throat. Something within me unlocked when I used that branch of my power. I barely brushed against it, but I’ve opened a floodgate of emotions. My feet move of their own accord, and I run from the gym, needing space and air.

But where can I run to? The forest is unsafe. The dorm has Alice. The Morningstar House has Connor. I need to do this on my own, and I am desperate to find some space. These emotions are mine, and I need to feel them, own them, and understand them. I am not ready to share them. Hell, I am not even sure what they are.

I just run, with no destination in mind, and no route planned. My chest constricts with every sob, and I try to find solace in the burn of my lungs. I push myself, but there is only pain and not from the healed broken rib. Physical pain I can manage. This is a deeper agony of self-hatred and doubt. I run and run, getting lost but not caring. I long to be lost, but how do I hide from myself?

A hand wraps around my arm, stopping my flight. I whip around, a scream stuck in my throat. The stranger’s hold is firm as if afraid I will try to escape, but I simply stare up at him, trying to make sense of his shadowed, blurry form. I can feel the intensity of his gaze, and we stand there in silence for long moments.

“Where are you going?” His voice brushes against my ear.

“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. My voice breaks a little as I put my truth into the air.

There is a moment of indecision before he moves in closer, wrapping himself around me. I don’t resist. I don’t know why, but I mold myself to his chest, accepting the comfort. It is an odd embrace. I can feel his powerful arms around me, but there is no warmth to his body, no scent. There is just the comfort of a hold, the compression of my nervous system forcing me to relax. Eventually, I pull back, looking up at him. He truly is an enigma. I can feel the danger of him, but he also possesses a gentleness. Or perhaps that’s just what he wants me to see. Or worse, that is what I want to see.

He gently brushes the back of his fingers along my cheek. “No tears, but your eyes are red.”

I look up at him, and he brushes a lock of hair behind my ear. He drops his hand, and we stare at each other for another long moment. I can feel him waiting, trying to anticipate my next move.

“You’re back?” I ask. My voice is a little weak from the emotion. I hadn’t heard from him since our messages after the forest when I’d thrown those horrible names at him and told him to leave me alone. I hadn’t even felt his eyes on me. But I had been thinking about him, and I had been checking to see if he was keeping tabs on me. He had been always watching, but this time, from afar.

“Do you want me to be back?” he asks. The question is loaded, dangerous, and interesting.

My gaze bores into the blur that is his face as if the intensity of my stare may reveal the concealed parts of him.

“I should go,” I whisper, though my feet make no move to follow my thoughts. When I don’t move, he cups my cheek again. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore,” I admit, closing my eyes and leaning into his touch. It is a moment of weakness, and I know it. I had always thought using my powers would be my downfall, but Max may be right. They can be my downfall or my salvation.

“What do you need to know?” he asks, his thumb brushing the curve of my cheek. He’s obviously having as much trouble reading me as I am him.

I open my eyes and step back, pulling away from the comfort of his touch. “Nothing.” I shake my head and clear my throat. “Thanks for… this.”

“Always running from something,” he says, the words shivering down my spine.

“Be my friend,” I say, the words falling from my mouth. I have no idea where they come from, but I do know I can be genuine with this person. While he elicits some unwanted feelings and makes the darkness swirl inside me, I can’t deny I like feeling seen .

“What?”

“Stay and be my friend,” I say again.

I can feel the skepticism in his voice. “I thought I was a narcissistic, cowardly creep.”

My lips twitch. “Well…”

He growls softly, and I shiver at the sound. “Why do you want me as your friend? You’re not lacking in companionship.”

I consider his question. He’s right. I have more people in my life now than I’ve ever had, but… “There is something about you.” I pause, trying to formulate my thoughts, and I let myself face the very truths I have been trying to avoid. “It makes me think you understand a side of me that no one else does.”

He watches me for a long moment, and my skin tingles beneath his stare. “Friends,” he confirms. “For now.”

I hold my hand out. “Friends. No boundary crossing.”

He takes my hand after a moment, shaking it. “Why were you running?”

A laugh escapes me, and it is no longer a foreign sound. “If only I knew.”

“Running from yourself, then.” We start walking, keeping a comfortable distance between us. I feel a sense of peace in this agreement with him. I feel understood and strangely safe. We approach the mouth of the forest, and I look back at the beckoning darkness.

“I don’t know why I’m drawn here, but I don’t want to be.”

“Fae feel most at home in the wild. It’s the closest they can get to Faerie.”

Reaching out, I glide my fingers over the trunk of a tree, leaving a trail of glittering dust in their wake. “I know. I hate it.”

“Why?” he asks.

I shrug, pulling my hand back. It’s a lie. I definitely know why, but I have already opened up too much.

“I used to hate what I was,” he says into the silence.

I glance at him. “It’s a lonely business. Hating your kind.”

“It is… isolating.”

I sit on a fallen log, feeling safe here even though my last visit ended so violently. I watch the stranger as he looks up through the canopy, gazing at the slight bit of early morning sky visible through the branches. “You’re not like other fae, if that’s any comfort. I’m not like my kind either.” He looks back at me. “There is power in being different, a strength unknown to most.”

“Why did you come back today?” I ask.

I see the way his shoulders tense. He hesitates for a moment before replying, “I never left.”

The admission doesn’t bring about the same level of fear it used to. “Was I right?”

“About?”

“That you understand me?” I’m unsure why the question feels so heavy between us, but I desperately need it to be true.

“I do,” he replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “You hide so much of yourself from others but even more from yourself.”

I tilt my head, interested. “Oh?”

“I know because I am the same. Most people only ever see a single side of me. The facade I wear to appease them.”

My lips twitch. “Ah, so there are people who physically perceive you? As in, you’re not only…” I gesture to his form.

His laugh rumbles in my ears. “Another mask, but I do exist outside of this avatar.”

I chuckle, looking down at the ground.

“What?”

I shake my head, laughing. “You’ve unblocked yourself already, haven’t you?”

“Are you planning on blocking me again?”

“Probably,” I reply honestly.

“Even when it does nothing?” he asks.

I smirk, looking up at him. “It doesn’t do nothing. It pisses you off.”

“You’re such a brat,” he says, and I can practically hear his eyes roll.

There’s that word again. Brat . Why does it spark something inside me?

He pauses for a long moment. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with that berserker.” It isn’t a question. It’s a statement, and there is something behind the words that I can’t identify.

I quirk an eyebrow, waiting for more.

“It’s just a question.”

“There was no question. It was a statement.”

“Why?” I can hear the way he forced the word from between his clenched teeth.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Does it matter?” I ask, unsure why I’m unwilling to tell him the truth, but for now, I want to hold on to this information. Something in the bite of his words makes me want to push at him.

“I have to go.” His tone is short and clipped, and I sigh.

Just when I thought I was getting somewhere, it turns out he’s just a dick who was pretending not to be a dick. “Bye,” I bite out.

The spell holding him here fractures, and I’m alone again.