20

                                                                                                  kaira astor

"And, don't touch her." The man sneers, and I tremble, blinking away the tears forming in my eyes. Dax? I lift my eyes, slowly dragging my gaze over Zyran standing in front of me. Broad, dangerous and dark. I inhale a sharp breath through my nose. He's not dressed in leathers today, instead, he's wearing a black shirt that spans over his broad chest, clinging to him like a second skin and I blink, meeting his hollow green eyes. All the oxygen escapes my lungs, and I'm pleading for air for an entirely different reason.

He watches me with unblinking eyes, his gaze roving over me, as if observing my emotions. I don’t want him to know what I’m feeling. I don’t want him to see. I’m not weak. Am I? I press my hand to my stomach and take a small step back, shrinking away against the stone wall as anxiety claws over my skin, digging its daunting nails into me.

Zyran’s eyebrows twitch into a frown. “Are you listening to me?” Dax snaps, now standing next to Zyran, a few inches shorter than him, angry and reckless. I’m Kaira Maliah Astor. I keep repeating the words over and over again, flashes of her ashen, crimson face invading my mind.

Zyran keeps watching me, a small crease forming on his forehead as he slightly frowns down at me, tilting his head to the side. His eyes fall down my body before dragging back up to my eyes and he takes a swift step toward me, invading my space but before he can reach me, Dax places his hand on Zyran’s chest, pushing him back. “Leave her alone! I’m her personal guard, I will deal with this.” He snaps and I wince. Deal with this? Deal with me? Zyran’s shoulders stiffen and he blinks slowly, his jaw flexing, twice.

I watch, my mouth agape as a haunting expression falls over his face, shadows weaving through the green of his eyes. Dax seems to see the same thing because his hand falls away but before he can shift, Zyran twists toward him and barrels into him, his hand wrapped around Dax’s neck.

He slams Dax into the stone wall, my limbs trembling as I stare at them with wide eyes. “You won’t be dealing with any f*****g thing.” Zyran’s voice is calm, threateningly so. Brimming close to violence and Dax’s eyes widen, his hand shooting up to push at Zyran’s chest, but before he can place his palm on him, Zyran wraps his fingers around his wrist and twists.

“Don’t f*****g touch me.” Zyran grits out through clenched teeth, though his face remains calm, unbothered and even though I can’t see his eyes, I know they are burning with so much heat, goosebumps prick at my skin. “Please,” Dax spits out, his face turning red as he opens his mouth to allow oxygen to flow toward his lungs. ‘Please, no, no, no.’ Her eyes plead, her fingers trembling as she stares up at me, fear flooding her eyes and I feel it, I feel the warmth flooding through me at the sight of her shaking body. No, no, no, no. That wasn’t me.

I push off the wall and dart past them, my eyes brimming with tears. That’s not me, that’s not me. I push at my door and stumble into my room, a sob lodged in my throat. “Oh my f**k! What happened?” Amara’s voice sounds muffled to the ringing in my ears and I gasp in a lung full of air, my chest expanding. My skin itches, burns, stretches. “Kai!” Amara rushes toward me in a fury of blonde hair and green snake eyes, her face wrinkled up in what resembles disgust. My hand shoots out and I frantically shake my head. “Leave,” I croak out, pulling at the roots of my hair. ‘You already took everything from me.’

Tears stream down my face and it feels like vines wrapping around my heart, squeezing the life out of me. My chest burns. Everything burns. “What is wrong with you?” She halts in front of me, her eyes tracking over my face and I exhale a sharp breath. My fingers ball into fists. “f*****g leave!” The words burst from my throat. I don’t want her near me, I don’t want her to touch me, I don’t want her to look at me or speak to me. Her eyes widen, her pupils expanding as her lips press into a thin line. I push past her toward my mirror and when the creak of my door closing echoes in the room, I look up. Blue eyes, wide with fear and anxiety. Bruised lips, parted as I exhale and inhale deep breathes. Small, straight nose, scrunched up in disdain.

Me. “Kiara Maliah Astor.” I croak out, my throat raw with contained sobs. I lean forward, placing my palms flat against the dresser as I gaze at my reflection. “Princess of Dalerin and heir to the throne.” Am I? Is that all I am? Is that the title I live by? My nails dig into the wood and my head falls forward, tears rolling down my cheek as my chest rises and falls with uneven breathes. “Kiara Maliah Astor.” I sob, my chest caving in as the words roam the room, ringing in my ears. Why doesn’t it feel like me? I squeeze my eyes shut as sobs wrack through my body.

“You don’t know who you are.” A deep voice says from behind me and my head snaps up, my lips parting as I stare at the reflection behind me, tears blurring the sight of him. Green eyes. Looming behind me like a dark shadow, he stands broad and unmoving, his face blank. You don’t know who you are— not a question, not an assumption. A fact. “Leave.” My bottom lip trembles as tears spill down my cheeks, dripping down and lands on my hands. I do know who I am. Kiara Maliah Astor. He doesn’t move, doesn’t leave. Instead, he shifts closer, watching me through the mirror. This man hates me, is he going to hurt me now?

His head slants to the side, his tongue running over the front of his teeth. The anger and violence that leaked from him in the hallway, is now entirely gone. A calm storm. That is what he is. “What did you do?” His question floats over me and I go rigid, pushing off the dresser to stand up straight, but I don’t twist around and I don’t move to the side. What did I do? I shake my head, strands of my hair flowing. I clench and unclench my hands by my sides. I shouldn’t tell him, I should demand he leaves, I should scream at him to get out of my room. But, I can’t. It’s something about the way he watches me, observes me, sees me. A shiver rolls through me. “I hurt her.” Bile rises in my throat.

“I bruised her. I cut her, I—“ You already took everything from me. I press my palm to my stomach, biting into the side of my cheek. “She begged and pleaded, and I just,” I squeeze my eyes shut, the images shooting through my mind and I feel like I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move. “I didn’t stop.” I feel dirty. Warmth seeps through my clothes and my eyes flutter, meeting Zyran’s green hues above my head, his chest brushing against my shoulders, towering over me with so much darkness that my mind momentarily swallows the sadness.

“Why did you hurt her?” Zyran asks, no remorse in his eyes as he blankly stares at me in the mirror. I don’t avert my eyes, even as tears well up, even as his face blurs, even as I feel my heart clench. “I…” I swallow. “I don’t know.” I never want to hurt anyone. He inches closer, his chest pressed to mine and a breath hitches in my throat, my eyelashes fluttering. “Why did you cut her?” He asks again, lowering his head, closer and closer to the side of my face and my heart pounds. I didn’t. I didn’t cut her. I shake my head lightly, wetting my lips, tasting salt on my tongue. “I didn’t,” I breathe out. “I mean,” I stumble over my words, consumed by the emotions, consumed by his presence looking over and around me. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” His voice is softer, breathing out against my cheek as his hair tumbles over his forehead, shifting closer and when he sweeps strands of hair off my shoulder, I press my lips into a thin line. “Why did you hurt her?” He presses, whispering out the question against the shell of my ear. My body trembles and I lean back into him, needing the support, needing the warmth. His muscles tense. “Why did you hurt her?” With his head leaned down, whispering out the questions against the shell of my ear, he flicks up his gaze, meeting mine in the mirror and my body heats. I pant, then quickly clench my teeth.

“I didn’t.” Barely a whisper, barely two words, barely audible. But, he hears me. His lips skim against my ear, so softly. “Then who did?” His green eyes rove over my face, intense and demanding, goosebumps trailing over every inch of my body and the shame and guilt I felt is now entirely replaced by different emotions. I blink up at him, peeking through my eyelashes as a ragged breath escapes my throat, my chest caving in. “Peter,” I croak out, my fingers digging into the material of my shirt. “Peter Smith.”

His eyes drop to my hands before meeting my eyes in the mirror. “Kiara Maliah Astor.” My name rolls off his tongue so smoothly, his chest rumbling against my back as he speaks, a thrill shooting through me. His head lowers more, and I hold my breath as I watch him, feel him. When his lips lightly trail down the side of my neck, a gasp falls from my throat. “That is who you are, Maliah.”