Trigger Warning: SA, Self-Harm
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Had I really addressed Mark like a mate? Was it the translation error that I'd suspected? Or did it have something to do with me calling him Mark instead of Mar'kost?
"Ortai don't follow our naming conventions. A shortened name has no special meaning to her."
"She said she wouldn't 'share' you."
"My time is limited, and we both know Baliko would monopolize it."
He leveled narrowed eyes on me. "Are you romantically involved with Mar'kost?"
What, did he really think I would disagree with Mark right in front of him? "Ew, no. He's too squishy."
Mark slipped his hand from mine. I hoped he didn't think I was serious.
"You think he's too... squishy?"
"Yep. I prefer guys who stay in one shape. He's a great Knight, though."
"I see." He ducked into the kitchen to retrieve Baliko, who immediately went to Mark. He gestured for me to get up. "Let's grant them some time to reacquaint themselves."
I glanced at Mark, and he gave me a look that said 'please don't leave me with her.'
"Sorry, I can't walk without help, so I'm afraid he-"
"I'll assist you." Ikaru grabbed my arm in a way that looked gentle but had a bit of force behind it. He tried to pull me to my feet but barely managed to make me scoot a little in the chair. "I believe you must attempt to stand, Ortai Liza."
"I'd prefer if Mark-kost assisted me."
"His name is Mar'kost."
"Right, that's what I said." More or less.
"You-" His faux reverent tone slipped. "A shifter's name has meaning. Mispronouncing it on purpose is disrespectful."
"Oh, so saying Icky-roo would be bad, right?"
He looked like he wanted to strangle me. "Yes, calling me anything other than Ick-ah-roo would be highly insulting."
"Gotcha, Ick-ah-ruh."
"Ick-ah-roo."
"That's what I said."
"That most certainly is not what you-"
Mark cleared his throat. "Father, she recently went through an extreme physical transformation. Her senses haven't fully recovered, and neither has her mind or body. Forgive her rudeness and allow me to tend to her. I'll return once she's settled." He hooked his arm under mine and ushered me out of the room. In the hall, he lowered his voice to murmur in my ear. "I understand you were only teasing him, but purposely mispronouncing a shifter's name is tantamount to using a slur. Please don't do it again."
Heat rose in my face as he took me into the guest bedroom. I opened my mouth to apologize, but the words caught in my throat. It would've been bad enough if I'd just called Ikaru a 'slur,' but I'd called Mar'kost 'Mark' tons of times today, and he'd pretended it was okay just because he was excited I was alive.
He helped me to the bed and sat next to it in a chair. "You needn't be upset. My father wouldn't have liked you even if you were on your best behavior."
"I-" I swallowed past the knot in my throat. "Why did you tell me you liked being called Ma- a nickname?"
He cocked his head. "I don't like 'being called Mark.' I like when you call me Mark."
"If it's a slur, why?"
"A nickname I gave you explicit permission to use would be a term of endearment, not a slur."
"Ah." That was a relief, at least. "Sorry. About your father."
He shrugged. "As I said, no significant harm was done." As he slumped in the chair, his face sagged. "I'm too tired to deal with Baliko at the moment."
"You should sleep."
His face firmed slightly, and he frowned. "I worry about leaving you around my father and Baliko."
"I'll behave."
"No, I mean..." He paused for an uncomfortably long time before starting again. "My father was your mother's Knight. I believe they had a romantic relationship."
"I know. I was there. I mean, I heard you two talking just now."
"You speak- of course you do." He snorted. "My father and I were speaking a language only known to shifters."
That explained a lot. "Are you worried he'll try to make you stop being my Knight while you're asleep? I mean, that didn't work when Raeve tried it, so..."
"What happened with those Interfaces was unheard of. If I were asleep, he would have no trouble using me to activate an Interface, which would allow him to remove me as your Knight now that I've joined your Party willingly instead of being forced to by an Inheritance Oath."
"I'll try to keep him from bringing an Interface near you, but if he does manage it, what's the big deal? I can just re-add you later."
"Right, that's- that's right." His head sank.
"Sleep. Everything will be alright."
He was starting to lose his form entirely. "You'll be here? When I wake up?"
"Yeah, I'm not going anywhere."
"Please stay."
"I will, I promise."
He sank into an indistinct mound of blue that slid off the chair, leaving his clothes behind. Once on the floor, he became still.
I was almost instantly bored. Worry made it impossible to sleep, especially since I'd been sleeping for nine days already. I couldn't believe Mark was acting so casual about the whole thing. Sure, he was a little surprised, but he'd taken it in stride. Was resurrection something that just happened sometimes? It had to be. Or at least, there had to be legends about itâprobably related to Ortai. We were such flipping freaks, even by Vangorn's standards. Mark's fascination with my 'internal structures' only proved that point.
He said I was made out of crystage, the crystal stuff they used to power magic charms. I'd basically turned into a massive arka battery. I even looked like a freaky statue. How was I ever supposed to blend in looking like this? I stared at my hands in my lap, willing them to turn back to normal.
A dark peach color spread from the center of my hands like food coloring dropped in water. It spread up my arms. I might've thought I had returned to normal if not for the slight reflectiveness of my skin and the fact that my fingers still clinked against each other.
As soon as I stopped concentrating on my skin, it returned to a marbled pattern. That sucked. I wouldn't be going out any time soon. Not that I usually liked going outside, but I didn't have much to do inside except reading the random books Cadmus used as decoration in this guest room. I rolled over in bed and stretched to reach the small bookshelf.
The door flew open and slammed against the wall, scaring me out of bed. I thudded on the ground with my feet hooked on the bed. Pulling my legs down, I craned my neck to see Ikaru standing in the doorway.
"Excuse me, can I help you?"
He scoffed. "I need a word with my sonâalone."
"He's sleeping."
"Then I suppose I'll need to wake him up, won't I?"
I sat up, leaning against the bookshelf for support. "He's had a long week. I don't think he's slept much."
"I understand you are to blame for that." His eyes narrowed. "I assure you, a short conversation with his father won't do more damage to Mar'kost than you have. Wait in the hall."
Guilt coiled in my stomach as I crawled out of the room. I tried to remember that it wasn't my fault Falek had tried to kidnap meâif anything, Mark's team was at fault for thatâbut no matter whose fault it was, Mark had been seriously hurt. And it was hard not to think about the fact that he never would've been hurt if I'd put my foot down when Grace invited me on the camping trip. What I would give to go back and change everything...
Quicker than I'd expected, the bedroom door opened, and Mark walked out. At least, I assumed he was Mark based on his clothes. There was no way to actually tell him apart from Ikaru. Except, something was off. I couldn't put my finger on it. Maybe it was the way he closed the door or crossed the hall or even just the way he breathedâbut I could tell he wasn't himself. Who would be after the week he'd had?
"Did he kick you out?" I asked.
He nodded and crouched in front of me. "The trip here was long. He needs to rest."
I tried to keep my voice neutralâor at least less titchy than I felt. "You need to rest a lot more than he does."
"Perhaps, but I must defer to my elder in this regard." He paused, and a slight smile tugged at his lips. "He is quick to sleep, and Baliko went out with Cadmus and Kaliska. I'm sure we can find a way to entertain ourselves." Pressing his hands against the wall on either side of me, he leaned closer.
"What are you doing?" I wasn't remotely in the mood to make out for the first time in the real world, and even if I had been, there was no way I'd kiss him right outside where his dad was sleeping.
He chuckled. "What does it look like?" His face was too close. Hot breath hit my chin. One of his hands moved to cradle my cheek. He leaned in for a kiss.
Vainly trying to push him back, I turned my face away. "Not now, Mark."
"Later, then?"
"Sure." If by 'later,' he meant after his dad and Baliko left for good.
He started to lean back but stopped, frowning. "I don't feel like waiting." The edge in his voice made me nervous.
"Well, I do." I tried to scoot around him, wishing I could stand without assistance. Maybe if I grabbed a doorknob, I could drag myself-
Mark grabbed my arms and pulled me around to face him. Before I could say anything, he pushed me to the ground, pinning my shoulders.
Not again. Not him. "Stop-"
He lunged, and violet fire filled my vision. Cold shot through my limbs, bringing an unnatural strength. I flailed wildly. My fists hit flesh. Something crackedâundoubtedly my bones, given that shifters didn't have any. He fell back against the opposite wall, clutching his chest.
"You broke my core, you filthy mutt!" His voice had dropped half an octave and assumed the rougher cadence of Mark's father.
"Ikaru." Fury spurred me to my feet. I kicked, and my foot slammed into the wall as he leapt aside. Paint flew, and the stone beneath cracked. Maybe my foot did too, but I wasn't feeling the pain yet. I charged at Ikaru.
Someone grabbed me from behind. I jabbed my elbow into their stomach, but they didn't even grunt, much less double over like I'd been hoping.
"Hey-" Mark's voice was in my ear. "I occasionally feel like murdering him as well, but we would both regret going through with it. Please come with me." He nudged me toward the bedroom.
"Let go."
Snatching his hands back, a naked Mark moved between me and Ikaru. "You cracked his primary core. A deeper crack will kill him. I can't heal that kind of injury. Do you honestly want to end his life permanently over an insult?"
"Insult?" Large black spots pulsed on my fists and arms as rage clouded my thoughts. I couldn't put together a sentence. It took every fiber of self control I had to not bulldoze past Mark and pummel Ikaru.
"Whatever he did, I'm not asking you to forgive him. I'm asking you not to kill him. Please, go into the bedroom." He gestured at the open door.
Through gritted teeth, I forced a sentence together. "He goes. Or I do."
"Okay. He'll go. I'll make sure of it." He tilted his head toward the door. "Go inside."
I marched into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Desperate for some way to let off steam, I shoved the bed against the door. It wasn't enough. I needed to break something, preferably Ikaru. But this was the house of a nice couple who let my friend keep my petrified corpse in their guest room for over a week, so I forced myself to sit down and rip at my stupid horns instead of the curtains.
The horns were firmly rooted in my skull. They refused to break off, even when I pounded my fists on them with enough force to rattle my brain.
"Liza, may I come in?" It sounded like Mark, but I had no way of telling for sure.
"If you're Mark, you can come in. If you're Ikaru, I'll bash your flipping skull in."
A pause. "I am Mar'kost, but I think I'll wait until you've calmed down."
"Great idea!"
When the adrenalineâor whatever freaky chemical I had nowâwore off, I found myself even weaker than before it had kicked in. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, and pain throbbed in my hands, head, and right foot. I'd long since fallen on the floor. Lifting my head was a monumental task that I quickly gave up. Maybe I should have called Mark in for help, but the idea of being around anyone while I was this weak made my skin crawl.