Page 17

Lux

F or a while, my body was weightless. I couldn’t feel anything, I couldn’t open my eyes to see anything, and I assumed this was death.

No heaven, no hell, just an absolute sea of nothingness.

The spiteful part of me wished I had a way to contact my family.

I’d accepted their religion out of love for them, but I’d never believed in it.

And, I felt like a big, fat, I told you so , would really boost my morale.

Then, ounce by ounce, the weight returned.

A deep-seated ache embedded itself in my bones, and the scent of antiseptic flooded my nose, and nearly caused me to gag. A painful breath rooted itself in my lungs, and, begrudgingly, my eyes opened.

I expected to see a hospital room, or maybe a dungeon, but instead, I was in a bedroom?

Not one I’d been in before either. The walls were a clean white, and wooden furniture decorated the space. It was like someone had taken a photo from an interior design catalog and made it a reality, down to the lack of anything that made it feel like home.

The soft clink of metal on metal greeted me, and I tried to sit up, only for a strong arm to appear on my chest and push me back down.

“Hey, can you maybe not do that?” A deep but playful voice called from beside me.

My brow furrowed as I turned toward the sound. Cassian sat beside me, a metal tray loaded with bandages and a pair of scissors perched on his lap.

There was no jester mask or harlequin costume today. Instead, he wore a grey T-shirt that clung to his biceps and a set of dog tags.

What the fuck was going on ?

I tried to open my mouth and ask him just that, but my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth like it’d been glued there. My eyes shot to his in a near panic, and he sighed.

“Water?” He asked, as he leaned over and grabbed a glass from the nightstand.

Condensation beaded on the sides, rolling down as he moved it. My heart skipped a beat at the idea, and I nodded, or more so, I tried to. A sharp pain in my neck stopped anything of the sort.

Cassian shot me a half-lipped smile and fished an ice cube out with a gloved hand.

“Open up,” he ordered, holding the cube to my lips.

I did as he said, not really caring if it was a trap or not. My entire body relaxed as the ice hit my mouth and started to melt.

“Take it slow, you’ve been out for a few days, and if you drink too fast you’ll–”

CRUNCH .

My teeth cracked through the ice and Cassian rolled his eyes.

“You were supposed to suck on it.”

“You should’a specified.” My voice was husky and weak as I swallowed down the ice chunks. “Can I have more?”

I looked at the glass.

Cassian’s lips pressed into the thinnest of lines before he sat me up and brought the glass to my lips. Instinctively, I put my hands on his, and I was glad I did, because he tried to pull away far before I was done drinking.

“Quit, you’re going to make yourself throw up,” he lectured, voice far too concerned for a man I’d stabbed.

Still, he didn’t pull the cup away, and I didn’t really give a shit if I vomited. I just wanted the dryness in my mouth to go away. He waited until I’d drained the glass to move it away, then he put pillows under my back and laid me down, like I was something precious .

“How do you feel? You’ve been out for a long time.” He reached forward and pressed a hand to my forehead.

“How long is a long time ?”

Cassian scratched his neck, causing his auburn ponytail to move. “Seventy-seven hours?”

My eyes widened–that was like three days, right? Maybe a little more.

“And you guys didn’t kill me?” Oh shit, that brought me to the next issue.

Why the fuck wasn’t I dead?

Cassian winced as if the question physically hurt him, then, after a moment, he recovered, like he understood why that was a reasonable question.

“Well, I mean, to be real, Seth almost did–” he pointed at my neck.

My fingers flew to the spot and landed on a mass of gauze and not an open wound.

“But, you won the game. Sun rose, you survived, why would we kill you?” he said matter-of-factly.

And I hesitated a moment because he was right. But that just raised even more questions.

“Why didn’t you just let me die then?” I was fairly certain I’d almost bled out.

Cassian looked at his lap, shaking his head as he played with the dog tags around his neck.

“Ronan said we should have, that you’d ask too many questions,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Well–he was right.”

Cassian shook his head once more, swiping a tongue across his lip.

“Why didn’t you just let me die?” he challenged, lifting his shirt to expose the wound on his side.

Gone were the butterfly bandages, and in their place were a set of messy stitches.

“Where’d you get those?” Did he go to the hospital?

“Where do you think I got them?” He scoffed as he tugged his shirt back down. “Do you know how hard it is to stitch yourself up when you’re drunk?”

My nose wrinkled. “Why were you drunk?”

“... Do you know how much harder it is to stitch yourself up sober ?”

I snorted, an ugly, raspy, unladylike sound, but it was a genuine one. Honestly, if my chest didn’t hurt so much, I probably would have laughed.

“If you could stitch yourself up, why’d you let me play doctor?”

Cassian shrugged. “Wanted to see what you could do.”

“That’s a hell of a way to test someone,” I muttered, trying to cross my arms.

My entire body felt like mush, so the motion came off as less sassy and more clumsy. Cassian’s smirk turned into a genuine smile, and the feral part of my mind wanted to bite him. You know, just to see how one of them liked it.

The room fell silent for a moment, other than the humming of a fan in the corner.

A gentle breeze blew between us and tickled my cheeks.

The air between us was heavy with the things we’d both rather leave unsaid, like you know, hey, sorry I stabbed you .

Or, you know, the real reason he didn’t let me die.

Cassian cleared his throat and looked away from me.

“It’s uh, it’s been a while since I’ve had to fix someone I care about.” His admission was soft, almost sheepish.

And honestly, I should have pushed him to figure out what he actually meant. But that was a lot to unpack, and I didn’t think I had the mental energy to deal with it right now. Plus, there were more pressing matters.

“I’m still thirsty.” I declared as my eyes darted to the empty glass. “But, I don’t want water–I want iced coffee.”

“Jesus-fucking-christ.” He ran a hand down his cheek with so much force that it pulled his lower eyelid down.

His face snapped back into place once he let go.

“Seriously?” Exasperation crept into his tone.

I stared at him for a beat before nodding.

“An ice-cold Coke Zero would work too.”

It might even work better. I practically salivated at the idea of the sweet bubbles dancing along my taste buds.

Cassian groaned before mumbling something under his breath.

It sounded suspiciously like spoiled little brat , but I didn’t push the issue.

Even though I wanted to remind him I was well within my rights to act like a diva, they were the ones who kidnapped me and forced me into a killing game… Even if I did agree to play.

Cassian lifted the metal tray from his lap and placed it on the nightstand as he stood. He then offered me a hand. I stared at it as if it were a trap.

“Come on.” He gestured for me to take his hand.

“What? Where are we going?”

I held both my hands to my chest, not trusting him.

“The others want to see you. We’ve gotta get you moving, it’ll be good for you.”

“ No .” The word came out horrified.

“ Yes .”

He pulled me to my feet, completely against my will, and I still didn’t have it in me to fight him.

The world spun a little, and I almost fell, but Cassian caught me. And that was when I realized I wasn’t naked, or dressed in lingerie, or anything weird. Instead, I was draped head to toe in what looked like a very expensive set of pajamas.

“These aren’t mine.”

Cassian made a sound that suggested I was one comment away from giving him an aneurysm.

“No shit they’re not yours. We don’t have any of your clothes, and Ronan offered to let you borrow a shirt of his.”

I nearly gagged at the idea. He wasn’t exactly the cleanest… but the rest of the guys were so thin that I didn’t think I could comfortably fit into theirs.

“And then, Seth threatened to kill him the next time he slept, and then Seth and Solomon went out and got you something soft .” Cassian waved a hand at the navy blue, buttery smooth outfit I’d been dressed in.

“So, congratulations. You now own four sets of luxury Pajamas, and have a manhunt for your honor.”

Cassian started pulling me to walk, lacing his arm under mine, and I followed on shaky feet.

“They went out in public?”

He nodded. “I wasn’t gonna fucking do it. I wanted to leave you naked.”

I glared up at him, and he didn’t care.

As my legs carried me forward, the weight of exhaustion started to press down on me. And, once we reached a set of wooden steps, I knew there was no fucking way I’d be climbing those.

And, I think Cassian thought that too–that or he knew I was going to argue with him and wasn’t in the mood–because he picked me up and carried me bridal style.

I’d never actually been picked up… I liked it.

When we reached the top of the stairs, the soft murmur of voices hit my ears. Cassian paused for a moment and looked down at me. A wave of tension crossed his features, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

“Ready?” he whispered.

Absolutely-fucking-not. I was sore, disoriented, and quite frankly, I’d rather go back to bed. But, something deep in my soul made me nod.

Cassian pushed forward, and a blinding rush of sunlight hit my eyes. I gasped, digging my palms into the sockets to block some of it out.