Page 158 of Discordant Cultivation

He couldn’t stop his lungs. They kept pulling in more and more air but none of it reached wherever it was supposed to go, making his vision blur at the edges as he stared into the bag. He needed to rewrap. He needed to looknormalbefore Vale came back. He couldn’t let him see this panic, couldn’t explain about the basement comment without making everything worse—

His chest seized. Tears started streaming down his face without warning, hot and humiliating.

Someone knows, someone knows, someone knows—

The room tilted. His pulse hammered in his throat, in his wrists, behind his eyes. He was going to be sick. He was going to pass out. He was going to—

The door opened.

“Hey, Thorn—”

Kieran spun around, his thumb flying to his mouth, teeth sinking into the nail bed as his eyes went wide. Jericho stood in the doorway. Her expression shifted from surprise to horror in the span of a heartbeat.

No no no no—

Her gaze darted everywhere it wasn’t supposed to: his throat, his arms, his wrists…the scars on his forearm…

“P-please leave!” Kieran gasped out, wrapping his arms around himself as he dropped into a crouch, trying to make himself smaller, trying to disappear. Jericho stepped inside and closed the door behind her, the click of the lock made him flinch like it was a gunshot.

“No, no, please—” He squeezed his arms around himself tighter, his fingers digging into his biceps. “It’s not what you think, it’s not—”

Jericho didn’t move closer. She just stood there, and when she spoke her voice was too calm, too careful—like she was trying very hard not to spook a wounded animal. “Listen to me. I know you’re scared—”

Kieran shook his head desperately, his breath coming in sharp, broken gasps. His vision kept tunneling, threatening to go dark at the edges.

“I know he’s hurting you. I’ve known something was off about him—”

“You’re wr-wrong—” The words barely made it past the constriction in his throat.

“Where do you live, Thorn?”

Kieran’s mouth opened but nothing came out.Please go away. Go away. Go away.

“You ask him permission for everything.” Jericho took another step closer and Kieran flinched. “I’ve watched you ask to get water, to use the bathroom. You check his reaction before you speak to other people.”

His throat closed up entirely. The room spun. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t argue, couldn’t make herstop saying things out loud.

“The way he touches you—”

“It-it’s not what you think,” Kieran whispered, the words thin and desperate. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed hisforehead to his knees, curling tighter. His whole body shook. “P-please.”

“What happens in the basement?”

A whimper escaped before he could stop it.

Why does she know about that. How does she know? How—

His mind fractured. Today was supposed to be a good day. Today was supposed to besafe. And now someone knew and Vale was going to find out and—

“I’ve been talking to someone willing to go public on what Vale does.” Jericho’s voice cut through his spiraling panic. “Someone who’s been really hurt. You’re in danger. I can help you. I know people, I have resources, I can get you somewhere safe—”

“It’s n-not like that—” The words came out strangled. “He l-loves me—”

“This isn’t what love looks like.”

She’s wrong. She doesn’t understand. She needs to leave.

The thought didn’t sound like his voice. It sounded like Vale.