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She let out a small breath and barely whispered. “I’m afraid of being alone.”

I didn’t expect her to answer so honestly, I thought she would joke and say spiders or clowns. I waited for her to continue but she didn’t so I urged her. “Why?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“I’m not going to judge you, Reaper. You need to say these things out loud, you cannot let fear control you.”

She couldn’t meet my eyes, ashamed. “I’m scared because,” she paused, “everyone I’ve ever known has kicked me out of their homes and their lives. My family, my best friend, strangers even. Silias is the only person in the city who wants me, at least, for now.”

Kicked out? Everyone said she ran away. They lied. Though, it was best I didn't pry, she might open up more later.

“I guess we both have that in common,” I told her.

She finally looked at me. “I was dumped at a youth home when I was really young and I jumped from foster home to foster home, because none of them could stand me.” Her eyes softened at my words, “I don’t know how many foster families I went through before Niko took me in and I’m really lucky to have him, but there are still times where I think he might kick me out because of all the trouble I cause him. ”

We stared at each other for a moment, understanding each other’s pain. How terrifying it was to not feel secure and safe. How hurtful and humiliating it was to not be wanted, to be rejected.

How lonely it was to have no one.

I cleared my throat, not meaning to reveal so much about myself.

“That feeling,” I said, “it’s in your stomach, a sick feeling that makes you want to throw up.

Some fears you will never overcome, forever forced to carry them with you throughout your life.

Allow yourself to feel it, but don’t let it consume you.

” I handed her one tissue. “This represents your fear, burn it up into nothing. Fear means nothing.”

She took the tissue from my hand, and it burnt so quickly it didn’t have time to turn into ash.

“Regret,” I started. “Four years ago, someone managed to sneak up on me and hit me in the head. My head split open, and I was in a coma for a week.”

She nodded, listening intently.

“I was on some stupid assignment and I hadn’t slept but I had Niko with me. It’s just so stupid that it happened and it’s messed me up ever since. If I had just slept that night or admitted to Niko that I was tired…”

“What part of you is messed up?” she asked.

“I lost a lot of my memories from the year leading up to it and I still have these bloody headaches. It also ruined my reputation at the time. People had already been whispering the name Vulture around me before the incident, but afterward, they saw me as weak and vulnerable — still just a kid — and questioned if I ever really deserved to become an Apex. So I had to work even harder. I had to become even colder. Until it finally stuck.”

“I heard people tried to kill you at the time. ”

I scoffed. “Yeah, they did, but Niko stayed at the hospital with me the entire time.”

“He must not have slept.”

“I remember waking up and seeing his eyes red and these awful bags under them.” The relief on his face when I woke was something I would never forget.

She cracked a small smile. “He really cares for you.”

I still wonder how long I’d need to be in a coma before Niko abandons me. “What do you regret?”

“I had a fight with my brother,” she mumbled. “I was just being stupid because I thought–” she paused, embarrassed about the argument. “I overreacted and the next thing I knew I was on the streets.”

“Do you blame him for it?”

She shook her head. “No, it was my fault… I hurt him pretty badly. So… While he went to the hospital with–with Ren, Delilah packed my bag.”

The staff member that was interviewed mentioned she had broken his arm. Was everything she said true? None of it was in the articles I read nor was it ever mentioned in court, so people brushed the woman off as having a psychotic break.

“Your mum didn’t stop you from leaving?”

“It was either I left or Ren was going to have me killed for hurting his son.”

"Killed? Isn't that a bit extreme?"

"Maybe he didn't really mean it, but at the time, I believed it."

My heart clenched. “You were twelve,” I breathed. “That must have been really scary.”

She didn't respond.

“Didn't you have other relatives to stay with?” I asked her, curiously.

“They–I don't really know them.”

"Your grandfather? Eugene Vicary?"

Her eyes narrowed. "He's not my blood," she replied, coldly .

I knew I should stop prying but I couldn't help myself. “How long were you on the streets for?”

“Um.” She thought about it for a bit, but I had a feeling she knew exactly how long. “Around seven months before Silias found me.”

Seven months. A twelve-year-old girl was on the streets for seven months and not just any of the months, but the coldest ones of the year.

How did she survive that? Where did she sleep?

How did she find food? I had so many questions, but I didn't want to ask, afraid she would leave if I did.

She seemed extremely uncomfortable, no longer meeting my eyes.

I waited to see if she would say more, but she didn’t.

“Regret rests in the mind. It is something people try to run away from, but the only way to get rid of the feeling is to reflect on it and forgive yourself even if others affected by it won’t.

” I gave her the tissue. “Forgive yourself and allow your regret to burn into nothing.”

She hesitated to burn this one, but eventually she did.

This next question was a bit lighter. “Who do you love?” I didn’t actually love anyone, It’s not an emotion someone like me could feel, but if I had to choose… “I love Niko. He took me in when no one else wanted me. He saw the potential in me and he treats me like a son.”

I waited for her to speak, curious of her answer. “I…” She hesitated, her brows furrowed. “I love my clan.”

“Your whole clan?” I asked. “I'm talking about someone you feel deep love for. Someone you want to be with all the time. Someone you would protect with your life,” I said, urging for a more specific answer.

She stared at me, a slight subtle shift of energy in her eyes, then she looked away. “Silias. ”

“Silias? Really?” I didn't believe that at all. Silias isn’t a man who could be loved, the ugliness inside him was so strong it was on his outsides too. “Everything said to me is confidential, in this dojo and outside,” I reassured her.

She shifted her gaze back to me and nodded.

“So, you can be honest.” Still she said nothing. “Why do you think you love Silias, Reaper?”

“I don't know,” she muttered, “he took me in.”

So she used my logic to get to her conclusion. I almost rolled my eyes. “Do you feel love, Reaper?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? Describe it. What exactly is your relationship with Silias?”

“He gives me a place to stay, food to eat, he would protect me, and he always wants me near him.”

“And what does he force you to do?”

“He doesn't force me,” she said. “I'd do anything for him because I want to.”

“And if you refuse?” I narrowed my eyes, analysing her body language. The subtle shift in her posture, her nails digging into her palms to calm the shaking, the daze in her eyes.

“Then, he would ignore me, along with everyone else in the house, until I do it and I will. I always do.”

I bit the insides of my cheeks. “Do you know what conditional love is?”

“I know what that is,” she said in a low voice, “but I don't believe in unconditional love.”

“Why?”

“Everyone wants something.” Reaper met my eyes. “And people are only nice if they get something in return.”

“What about your old family? Your brother, mother, father? ”

She shook her head, but didn't answer.

“Don't you love them?”

“I love my brother,” she admitted, “but I don't think he loves me anymore.”

“Because you hurt him?”

“He raised me to be a good person and as long as I was kind, he was proud of me,” she started, “but I’m no longer kind and I’ve done a lot of bad things. He would be really disappointed to see who I am now.”

“You can still love someone even if they don't reciprocate those feelings.”

“It's not the same.”

I didn’t know her well enough to argue her case, but… “From what I know, you’re still kind, sure you kill people, but you're the type of person to buy a new coffee for someone who dropped theirs. Not everyone would do that.”

“You don’t even know half the things I’ve done.”

Reaper had a lot of self-hatred, that was evident. “You’re just surviving in a cruel world.”

“Surviving,” she repeated with squinted eyes, “you make me sound like a victim.”

I shook my head. “You’re only a victim if you let them make you one.”

“I’m not a victim,” she said in a soft voice, “I did this to myself.”

Bloody hell. “Do you need… Like, a hug… Or something?” It came out more awkward than I thought it would and it was hard to string the sentence together.

She eyed me suspiciously. “I don’t need your pity and I have a feeling you don’t give good hugs.”

I chuckled. “I’m not pitying you and yeah, I probably don’t.” I can’t remember ever hugging anyone in my entire existence .

Reaper came over to me, put her arms around my neck, and dropped her weight onto me. Why didn’t she warn me? We fell back onto the mat. “You’re supposed to hug me back,” she muttered into my chest.

“Right,” I muttered, knowing she could feel my heart pounding. I wrapped my arms over her and lightly patted her back. Is this what it feels like?

“You really are bad at this,” she laughed.

“I don’t do this stuff.”

“That’s sad,” she said, tightening her hold around me, “you need this more than I do.”

I’m not sure that’s right. “I’ve been fine without this,” I said, “you can get off me now.” But she didn’t move. “Reaper,” I muttered, “this is weird.”

“You don’t like it?” she asked, and when she shifted her body, I felt mine heat up.

“Uh, I’m not sure,” I admitted. I don’t think I’d ever do this with anyone else nor would I ever tell anyone I did this. “Don’t tell a soul we did this.”

“No one would believe me if I did,” she sighed with a smile.

A small laugh escaped me. “Yeah, they wouldn’t.

” I sat back up, but she didn’t let go of me like I thought she would when I moved.

I let out a small breath of defeat, allowing it for now.

She needs this. “Love is located in the heart, it pumps through your veins, giving people motive to live, but it’s a distraction.

There is no control when it comes to love.

Though it feels good, and it makes us feel safe, it can be taken from us at any moment. ”

I handed her the third tissue. “This tissue represents love. Burn the love you feel. Love means nothing.” She reached behind her towards the candle and burnt it, then went back to me.

“Who do you hate?” I asked. I couldn’t answer this entirely truthfully. “I hate everyone. They're all the same. I can't even choose a single person I hate more than anyone else, not one that’s alive at least. ”

“I hate…” she paused. “I don’t hate anyone,” she admitted, “I think it’s pointless to do so.”

That surprised me. After all she’s been through, after all the cruel people she’s met, she didn’t hate the world. “You really don’t feel hatred?”

“I feel angry sometimes for people’s behaviour, but I don’t think it’s quite possible to fully hate someone.”

Oh, you’d be surprised.

“Everyone has something good in them,” she said.

“Even if they don’t show it. I don’t believe there are completely awful souls.

We never really know people, we only get the chance to see a glimpse of what they show in the moment we’re with them and if it’s a bad moment, then it’s just unfortunate that we see them in that state. ”

What a mature response, but she sounds like an Angel. They don’t feel hatred for anyone aside from Demons. Maybe she is an Angel. “Who taught you this?”

“My brother and Leo,” she said, “they’re always able to see the good in the world.”

I didn’t think I needed to tell her what I was going to say.

“What were you going to say about hatred?” she asked me.

I had to take a moment to speak. “Hatred is associated with the lungs, being unable to breathe properly and having to take deep breaths to calm yourself when you're in a state of hatred. It’s a strong emotion that often derives from hurt. You are unable to control other people and their words or actions, but you can control your response. Understanding that gives you power over them and yourself.”

I gave her another tissue. “This tissue represents hatred. Burn it into nothing. Hatred means nothing.”

She burnt it, and turned back to me, meeting my eyes. In that moment, we were mirror images—two empty reflections unable to show anything but emptiness. I wondered if she felt that too .

“Celestine,” I breathed, “you should get off me.” I didn’t understand the things I was feeling and I might have to get rid of her to make it stop.

“You offered.” She smiled.

“I didn’t think you were going to take it.”

She unwrapped her arms around my neck, resting them in front of her, but she was still in my lap, facing me. “Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you.” That much I knew.

“But… You’re always so mean to me, and you stay away from me.”

“I just—” I hesitated, I didn’t know what I felt towards her, it was so complicated and I was still trying to figure it out. “I think it’s safer for you if you stay away from me.”

“Why?”

“I might kill you.” At least, I think that’s what I want.

“Is that all you’ll do?”

“I think so.” Maybe take my time with it.

Celestine reached up and lightly grazed her long, painted nails across my cheeks. “You’re not scary, you know?”

My eyes darkened, “I don’t scare you, at all?”

She laughed. “Are you trying?”

Bloody hell. I allowed my eyes to get colder, but not too much. I don’t think I actually wanted to see her afraid of me anymore.

“I like when you do that.” A certain tease lit her eyes.

I think I stopped breathing. “Celestine, I’m going to kill you if you don’t get off me soon.”

She rested her head on my chest. “How long do I have? ”

She let out a small wince when I pushed her off me before leaning over to blow out the candle, cleaning up our area. I couldn’t let her see my face and needed to distract my mind as quickly as possible after being so close to her for so long.

How am I going to survive training her?