Page 155 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

He kept his eyes on my face. “Lyr, you’re okay,” he said. “You’re safe.”

I burst into tears, shaking my head. “No!” I pulled back my arm, trying to cover my body, cover my face.

Rhyan immediately released me.

“I don’t want to be seen. I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

“No one can see you, Lyr,” Rhyan said gently, stepping into the spray. “There’s no one here. It’s just me.”

“I don’t want you to see me,” I cried. “I just…I can’t….”

His face fell, a look of anguish in his eyes. “You don’t want me to see you?” He bit his lip. “Okay. That’s okay.” He glanced at the edge of the stall. “Do you want me to go?”

I grabbed his hand. “No.”

“I won’t,” he said, but he sounded so sad and hopeless.

“I’m sorry,” I cried. “I know I’m not making any sense. I just….”

“Can I hold you?” he asked.

I nodded, and he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, his hands carefully placed on my back.

“Shhhh,” he said. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. I swear to the Gods, you’re safe now. They can’t hurt you. Never again. You’re safe with me, Lyr. I swear.”

“I know,” I said. “I know. I just, I don’t want to be seen right now. They all saw me, they were all….” My shoulders shook. I could still feel their eyes, feel the arousal in their auras. The violence. The hatred.

“We’ve got to get you cleaned up and bandaged,” he said desperately. “What if I keep my eyes up the whole time, just on your face? I won’t look at you, at all. I won’t look anywhere else.”

“No.” I covered my eyes, sucking in a pained breath. I knew I was being unreasonable. I couldn’t think straight. The horror of the night was too much, too confusing. Rhyan was my safe place, he always made me feel the safest I’d ever felt. But it wasn’t enough right now. Because I felt anything but safe at the moment.

I wanted to get this blood off of me. I wanted to wash away Brockton’s touch. I wanted to burn it off my body, and I wanted Rhyan to do it—and at the same time, I didn’t. I just knew I didn’t want any more eyes on me tonight, not after I’d been assaulted and humiliated, not after I’d heard what they’d done to Jules.

Not after I’d taken a life. I’d killed. I’d killed with my own hands. Not an akadim. Not because I was forced to in the arena. But a life. A living, breathing soul.

But even with all of that, I didn’t want Rhyan to leave. What I wanted was for none of this to have happened, for me not to have to deal with the consequences they’d forced on me. I wanted to curl up into a ball. Feel his arms. Not be seen. Not remember. I wanted to forget any of this had happened. Live in the world where it hadn’t.

But it had happened, and I was here now, and nothing felt right.

“Lyr.” Rhyan’s voice was low and calm. “Listen to me. You’re having a panic attack. It’s okay. You’ve had them before. And I’ve helped you. Remember? I’m going to help you again. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get through this.”

“I feel like I’m dying.” The water was too hot and too cold. The shower was too small. Our room was too many stories up. The wind outside was howling too loud.

“I have an idea,” Rhyan said. He stuck his hand out past the curtain and brought in a towel. “I’ll cover you with this and clean you up. I’ll work around it. You’ll be covered the whole time. Does that feel better to you?” More tears fell. The towel was getting soaked. It was so stupid. But it was the best thing he’d suggested. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Rhyan stepped back. “Keep your hand on my shoulder.” He wrapped the towel around me, tucking the ends beneath my arm. “Good girl,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine. “You’re doing so good. This shouldn’t have happened to you—you didn’t deserve it, but you were so brave. I just need you to be brave for a little while longer. Can you do that for me?” He brushed my hair out of my face, soaking wet from the stream.

“I killed him,” I sobbed. “I’m a killer.”

“No, you’re not. You had to do it. He was….” Rhyan’s mouth tightened. “He was going to do Gods-awful things. He’s already done worse. They all have. But you don’t have to carry this. Give it to me. I’ll carry the guilt. I would have killed him myself. I swore I would. It’s mine. Let me bear it for you. I’ll bear anything you want.”

I shook my head.

“Lyr.” Rhyan gripped my face, his thumbs moving slowly, soothingly across my cheeks.

“You can’t. Because I did it. And I did it for you, too. And I feel sick to my stomach. Because I would have killed him again if I could have.”

His throat bobbed. “Look at me. Breathe with me. Listen to my voice. Listen.”