Chapter 9

The elders were up on stage, talking to the crowd.

They discussed the merits for taking down the Shadow Sect, who racked up the most kills, and who showed the most guts.

Finally, one elder remarked, "Some disciples aren't exactly talented, but they're experts at slacking off. They vanished when the fighting started, and now they're lining up to take the glory."

Someone shot me a look.

I kept my head down and stayed silent.

When the ceremony ended, I headed out.

On my way, I ran into a few fellow disciples. They saw me and dropped their voices, but not enough for me to miss what they were saying.

"Isn't she the Grandmaster's daughter? How did she fall so far?"

"The Grandmaster doesn't even like her. The way he treats Sophia, you can tell she's his real favorite."

"I feel bad for Lydia, honestly."

"You actually feel bad for her? Her background is a mystery. The Grandmaster is already being generous by acknowledging her at all."

I strode past them, not bothering to look back.

*****

By the time I got back to the secret room, night was falling.

I pushed the door open, and Orion was still leaning against the headboard.

He heard the door and opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on me.

My clothes were filthy, my hair was a mess, and I looked pretty miserable.

He glanced at me, a smirk playing on his lips. "Lost, huh?"

I didn't say anything.

"Man, that's embarrassing," he laughed. "The crowd went wild this afternoon. Bet none of that was for you, huh?"

I sat on the edge of the bed and started untying the wristband on my arm.

"Did your father see you?" he asked. "Did he bother talking to you? Does he even realize his own daughter was out there today?"

"Shut up," I snapped.

"Where were your fellow apprentices?" he kept going. "Did any of them bother to show up for you, or were they just hyping up someone else?"

"I told you to shut up," I said, standing up.

He looked at me, his eyes glinting like knives. "Lydia, you're really pathetic."

"Done talking?" I asked.

He flashed a taunting smirk, saying nothing.

I bent over him, holding him down, silencing that infuriating mouth with my own.

This wasn't a gentle touch like before. It was a bite.

I sank my teeth into his lower lip, making him part his lips, forcing a muffled groan out of him.

I pinned his hands, our fingers interlocked against the pillow. He tried to pull away, but couldn't.

"Lydia..." Orion's voice was a little breathless.

I didn't let him finish.

The secret room was very dim. Only a thin sliver of light slipped through a crack in the wall, landing across his collarbone. It made him look mysterious.

When I touched his skin, I saw his fingertips tremble ever so slightly.

"You'll regret this," he spat out, bitterness in his voice.

"I won't," I said.

The chains dangled off the side of the bed, swaying softly.

I grabbed his hand. His fingers were curled tight. I uncurled them one by one, weaving mine between his.

"Orion," I murmured. "You're mine."

His breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling. I lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

It was beating fast, like a bird caught in a cage.

I closed my eyes, listening to that frantic flutter for what felt like ages. His heartbeat gradually slowed. My fingers were still entwined with his.

"You'd better finish me off now, or once I'm back on my feet, I'll tear you apart piece by piece," Orion growled.

That was the last thing he said to me that day.

For days after that, he didn't say a single word to me.

I brought him food; he ate without a word.

I wiped his face; he closed his eyes.

I combed his hair; he turned his head away, saying nothing.

I lay beside him, watching. He kept his eyes shut, his lashes perfectly still, like he was asleep, like I didn't exist.

I didn't like it when he ignored me.

The secret room was just the two of us. When he went quiet, it was like I was the only one left.

I'd been alone for so long. I didn't want to be alone anymore.

I dug through the stuff my mother sent me and found a pair of Itchstingers.

They didn't actually hurt people, but they could make one's whole body itch. Anyone who touched them would be so itchy they couldn't sleep, enough to drive them mad.

My mother used them to get back at people. She said a merchant from Westfall taught her the trick, and whenever she hated someone, she'd use them to keep them up for three days straight.

"Orion," I called out.

He kept his eyes shut.

I set one of the Itchstingers down on the back of his hand.

The Itchstinger crawled a couple steps, then slipped up his sleeve. Orion's eyes flew open, his whole body stiffening. A flush of red bloomed across his skin where the bug had passed.

He gritted his teeth, staying silent, but sweat broke out on his forehead. The chains rattled noisily.

"You..." he started to speak, but clamped his jaw shut.

I sat at the edge of the bed, just watching him. His face went from bright red to ghostly pale, his fingers digging into the sheets, and he bit his lower lip so hard it started to bleed.

I waited a bit, then picked the Itchstinger back up.

He lay sprawled out on the bed, gasping for breath, soaked in sweat. His hair was plastered to his face, his collar hanging open, and his skin was red all over.

He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot and burning with resentment.

"Just talk to me and I won't use the bug on you," I said.

He said nothing.

"Orion," I called out.

He still refused to talk to me.

I put the Itchstinger on his neck again. His lashes gave a little twitch.

"What do you want me to say?" he croaked, his voice so raw it sounded like it was being dragged out of his throat.