Willow looked down to Reykon, turning her head to the side.
Robin got a better look at her now. She wore a thick, chunky cardigan and a simple white t-shirt underneath. She had a scarf in her hair, tied like a headband. It had a floral design to it, and the ends came down on one side, resting next to her arm.
Willow said something to Dag, but Robin was in too much of a trance to hear it. After a moment, Willow turned back to her. Her voice was soft and inviting.
“You’re tired, Robin. You should rest.”
Robin wasn’t sure when she’d laid down, but she had, and her eyes were focused on the warm, yellow light peeking through the closed slats on the blinds. A cat hopped up on the back of the couch, resting its head on the cushion and looking straight at her. Robin brought her hand up, petting its bright orange fur, and mumbling hello. Her eyes were already closing, and she turned her head, watching Reykon fade out of focus, both Willow and Dag buzzing around him.
Lucidia
A bolt of fear ripped through her as she saw her trainer and mentor gripping the young wolf girl.
“Adonis,” she growled.
“Don’t try anything. You know I don’t want to kill her.”
“Let her go!” Clay snarled, his hands hooking instinctively.
“If you shift right now, I will snap her neck like a twig,” Adonis warned.
Clay let out a hiss of frustration but remained still.
Adonis turned back to her. “I’ve been charged by Master Darian of House Xander to deliver you back to the grand house to be punished for crimes against our people. I do not disobey orders. I raised you to do the same.”
“I’m not going back,” Lucidia said, straightening her shoulders. “I’ll die before I go back there.”
“You are the property of Master-”
“Enough!” Lucidia bellowed, hands shaking in rage. “I am not. I was property, I was a tool, a weapon that he cast out whenever he wanted. I was all of those things because I allowed myself to be them. But no more. I don’t take orders from him, and I don’t take orders from you. I make my own decisions, and I am choosing to never, ever go back there.”
Adonis’s reply was an angry axe; she’d never seen him have an emotional outburst, either. “You have no say in the matter,” he hissed, tightening his hold.
Lucidia’s eyes flicked to Megan’s hand, which was creeping to her jacket pocket. She remembered what was concealed there. Her old nightstick.
What does she think she’s doing? Adonis was one of the most skilled strongbloods to ever walk the earth. The second he sensed a threat, he would end her life.
“Megan, no!” Lucidia roared, just as the blue-white crackle connected with Adonis’s ribs.
He grunted and thrashed to the side. Megan let out a cry of pain but managed to drag herself out from under his grasp, falling down. Clay advanced now and had the still-smoldering Adonis by the collar, laying into his face with animalistic fury.
When Adonis’s face looked like a squashed plum, Lucidia called Clay’s name.
He turned, rage obscuring his expression, panting like a marathon runner.
“Don’t,” she said.
He scowled, but tore away from the body, checking on Megan.
Lucidia moved forward and knelt next to her former trainer. She’d never seen him like this: weak, overtaken, beaten. She’d made each life altering decision so quickly, on the whim and singular motivation that Robin had somehow implanted in her brain. But the effects of those decisions hadn’t actually taken hold in her mind yet.
Seeing Adonis defeated in front of her hit hard.
The series of events and values that had culminated into Lucidia’s previous life was now over. This was a new chapter; a new book, even.
And she had no clue what would happen.
Up until now, her life had been simple. Serve, and enjoy the benefits. Darian handled every consequence, every hardship; she just had to follow his orders. She’d had high status (higher than most) and a substantial room. She had every pleasure she could ever think of. She had free reign of her time off assignment.
Her life was charted out for her, and it had been since before birth. Darian Xander had permitted Kenzo to have a child and had made it possible. She was going to be a Draxos, she was going to have a place under Adonis Strexos’s instruction, and she was going to be brought up as a soldier, a warrior, and a protector of House Xander for all her days. Once she turned five hundred, she’d retire and enjoy the fruits of her labor with the other retirees, providing council and administration to the affairs of the younger strongbloods. She would be honored for her service.
But that life had ended. The first crack had been made twenty-five years ago, and since then, those little fractures had just been spreading. Finally, the whole thing had shattered.
Now, what would become of her?
There was no track set in front of her; just mile after mile of thick, tangled, obscuring forest. What was in the forest? A bear? A snake? Someone waiting to mow her down with a shotgun?
She had no clue.
Never in her life had she anticipated freedom being so utterly terrifying.
Here in America, freedom was the name of the game. It was awesome, it was God-given, and it was the way things ought to be.
But nobody ever talked about how paralyzing it was.
So many decisions, so many outcomes, so many paths to choose from that she didn’t know which direction to even look at.
She held Adonis’s head in her lap, brushing the hair out of his face. He was gasping, gurgling on the blood that pooled in his mouth. She distantly realized that he was nearing five hundred and fifty years old- maybe older.
