“Then a coffee and a sandwich it is,” I say.
Chapter 29
~ Sebastian
The moment the door closes Clarissa crumbles to her knees. I rush to her and scoop her up, holding her crying form close to my chest. Her mind is swirling with emotions that are hard to stomach. I run my fingers through her hair and feel her shiver against me. I don’t want to use these traits against her. I don’t want to form a bond that is easy for me to exploit. But feeling her cry against me conjures a feeling I don’t like. A feeling that leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Helplessness.
I feel helpless in her quest for resolution.
“I can’t believe what I just did,” Clarissa says breathlessly. “I almost killed them.”
“But you didn’t,” I say. “You didn’t kill them.”
“But I killed those warriors. I heard their bones cracking.”
“I can’t honestly say they didn’t deserve it.”
“I’m a murderer, Sebastian. I’m not better than the Primals who took Kyle from me.”
“Hey,” I say harshly. “You shut that talk down right now.”
I hold Clarissa out from my body and crook my finger underneath her chin. I guide her face to me and take in her beautiful eyes.
Their wetness kills me. Tugs at my anger and my fierce want to rid her of all that is debilitating her. Gazing into her eyes leaves me speechless, and my hand slides to cup her cheek. Her hand wraps around my wrist, and I watch her nuzzle into my palm, her mind begging me to say something.
Anything.
“You are no monster,” I say. “Nor are you anything like those rebels. Those archaic excuses for Primals.”
“I couldn’t control it. I lost my cool, and I couldn't snap out of it.”
“But you did,” I say. “When you heard my voice, and you saw the danger everyone else was in, you snapped out of it. They trapped you, Clarissa. Like an animal. You had every right to lash out at them.”
“But no right to kill them.”
“You killed no one,” I say.
Her lip is trembling, and I graze my thumb over it. Willing it with my entire mind to stop. She pulls it between her teeth and lets it go, and I watch as every petal of her skin unfurls. I can feel her veins pulsing against my skin. I can feel the electricity coursing behind her eyes. I feel that tug in my groin. Those veins rising to life and pumping a yearning want between my legs.
Then, I see it.
A wound on her arm that isn’t healing.
“Does that hurt?” I ask.
The baggy shirt Clarissa’s wearing falls farther down her shoulder as she takes a look at it.
“No,” she says. “Should it?”
“It depends. Do you know how you got it?” I ask.
“Nothing stands out,” she says. “Why isn’t it healing?”
I wrap my hand around her arm and bring it up to my face so I can inspect the wound. I can see the sparkling of saliva in the teeth indentations. I sniff it deeply as a familiar scent fills my nostrils. My chest fills with an angry rage as my eyes whip up to Clarissa’s.
“What is it?” she asks.