Her guard, her temptation

14

kaira astor

* w a r n i n g *

I suck in a sharp breath. No. My trembling fingers roll into fists at my side, my nails digging into my palm. No. I press my lips into a thin line, my father turning into a blur of concern. No. My heart beat pounds against my chest, almost as if it wants to claw its way out. No. My mind leaps over every encounter with Zyran. No. I blink rapidly, shaking my head. "I don't want him as my personal guard, I have Dax." I will my voice not to break.

"He's way too comfortable with you, Kaira. And, I know full well you wouldn't be happy if I were to send him back to the Guard Academy," I shiver at the mention of the place where young boys endure torture and sway through brutal training. I definitely don't want Dax to go back to that place. "Sergeant Ryder is reliable and the best fighter. He will be sure to keep you safe." Safe, as in, tying me to a bed and flirting with my best friend, and nearly suffocating me. Oh, and making me feel things I don't want to feel. I part my lips, ready to push out the words. "He'll make sure you stay away from the basement too." He interrupts, his voice thick with disdain and my mouth shuts.

My heart nearly feels like it's going to explode in my chest, memories of blood stained dirt and crimson colored walls and rotten scents fill my mind. I suck in a breath, my fingers falling to the scar on my left wrist. Shudders roll down my spine, shrill screams erupting in my ears. 'Hollow human, hollow human. Can't wait to fill you with rage and hate.' The poison-laced voice chants in my head, wrapping its long, dirty fingers around my throat, refusing to allow me any thin breaths. "I told you to stop going down there." The edge of his voice falls away, his tone softening as his heavy eyes watch me. Pressure digs into the raised skin on my wrist, pain bursting down my arm.

I hate that look on his face, that look of pure concern. As if I'm fragile. I swallow down the fear gripping my throat and lay my palms flat against my thighs, forcing the muscles in my jaw to loosen. "I realize going into the basement was a foolish thing to do," I resist the urge to run my fingertips over the scar, keeping my eyes locked with my Father's. If he so much as expects me to lie... it's over. I inhale a thin breath through my nose. "You know the... feeling sometimes overwhelms me. It won't happen again." My voice is as hard as granite, needing him to believe me. I can't deal with Zyran. "I won't go down to the prisoner's cell without you again." I swallow the bile rising in my throat. I don't want to say this, but... "I'll even help more with the criminals."

Father's eyes widen at that, the blue in his hues shining with gratitude. Everyone always wants something from me. He clears his throat, averting his eyes, thoughtful for a moment and I hold my breath.

Please.

Please.

Please.

Please.

Pivoting toward me, he runs his fingers through his hair, his head falling into a curt nod. "Very well." I squirm in my seat, relief flooding through my body, the sore muscles no longer bothering me. "Listen very carefully though, if I hear from one the guards that you have gone to the cell again, I will move Sergeant Ryder in as your personal guard and send Dax to the Academy." The threat hangs heavy between us and I nearly roll my eyes. I've never understood what the problem is with me going into the cell, it's not as if it has affected their lives. Still, I nod. "You said there were two things you wanted to speak about." I lean back in the chair, straightening my legs out in front of me. "Yes, I just wanted to go through the routines and rotations with you for your new guards."

----

I walk out of his office, feeling my stomach uncurl and taking quick, shallow breaths when the adrenaline finally hits me, coursing down my arms and legs. Once outside the office doors, standing in the empty hallway, I stop and let my fingers drift down to the scar. I push away from the door and trail down the hall, reaching out and run my fingers along the ridges in the stone. Dax isn't here, which isn't completely weird, because he usually bolts to hang out with some of the other guards in the main room. He knows I need my space, and that's why I appreciate him so much.

My teeth dig into the side of my cheek. I wonder where Zyran is. The thought floods my mind and I halt in my steps, my eyes flinging across the hall, as if the thought didn't stir in my mind and rather was sent from someone else. My nails dig into the stone, scratching against the hard surface. Control. I need control over this situation. A twisted thought strikes through my mind and a grin tugs at my lips. f**k him. Glancing around the hall again, I spin around and dash toward the guards' wing. Being the Training Officer, I know exactly where his room is. I also know that he's not on patrol today, which means in the main room with the other guards.

Slowing in my pace, I step lightly as I near the guard's wing, nerves jolting over my body. The ache in my body is replaced by anticipation, thrill, looming danger. I stop at the turn, peeking my head around the corner and push forward when I see no one, finding the Training Officer's room, the name engraved on the door. I wrap my fingers around the knob, goosebumps pricking at my skin as my stomach dips with nerves. Please don't be locked, please don't be locked, please don't be lock--

Click.

The door swings open and my eyelashes flutter with relief. I roll my button lip into my mouth and gnaw at the skin, slipping inside and push the door closed behind me. I hold my breath, looking around the room. Neat. Plain. No personal belonging-- except for a few daggers neatly placed on his side table. My eyes fall over the room, taking in the black curtains, black mat in the center of the room, black bed sheets on the large mattress. I shiver. He sleeps there. I shake the thought from my mind, tendrils flowing around my head and I step forward. Where would he hide something?

Under the mattress. My eyes narrow in on the bed and I walk closer, my eyes flicking to the closed bathroom before moving back to the bed. Tip-toeing closer, I dig my fingertips underneath the mattress and lift it, sliding my fingers underneath and feel around. Nothing. I stand, and my eyes fall to the side, toward the daggers on the table. I reach out, running the tip of my finger over the sharp edge, but hiss and pull my hand away. f**k, that's sharp. Turning my palm, I stare down at the split skin on my index finger, a drop of blood gathering. I push my finger into my mouth and sigh, stepping back and roam to the other side. "Come on, asshole. You must be hiding something." I grumble, pushing my hand underneath and feel around. I roll my eyes, noth-- Something grazes my finger and I halt, grabbing onto what seems to feel like paper. Carefully, I pull it out and sink down to my knees, trapped between the wall and bed. A picture. My eyebrows crease as I stare at it.

Two boys.

"Interesting." I mumble under my breath, careful to keep the blood from smearing over the photo. The boys in the picture can't be over seventeen. One leaned against the wall and the other standing next to him. There's a deep contrast between the boys though, the one standing up straight beams at the person behind the camera, grin so wide that my lips tug up into a small one. His brown hair is cut close to his scalp, neat and styled. His greenish-blue eyes gleaming, as dimples dip into both cheeks. Sunshine. He radiates sunshine. My eyes sweep to the boy leaned against the wall next to him, and my smile falls. His arms are folded across his chest, his dark raven hair hanging over his forehead, disheveled and unruly. His face blank, no smile, no gleam and my eyes shift to his eyes. Oxygen gets caught in my throat. Green, green, green.

Hollow eyes stare back at me, no emotions dwelling in his eyes. Shadows. He radiates pure darkness. Even just staring at the photo makes my heart pound. Zyran. There's no mistaking it. His features are softer, but it's him. But who is the other boy? His brother? Muffled voices flow from the door and my eyes snap wide, my entire body going limp with fear for a beat. "Sure, I'll meet you out front," Zyran. Oh, s**t. Oh, s**t. I scoot closer to the bed and lift the mattress as quickly as I can, pushing the picture underneath. My finger stings, pain throbbing at the tip. I glance around frantically. There's no where I can hide. I fall flat, pressing against the floor, my cheek flat against the cold surface and gulp in a lung full of air.

"Just be careful this time, yeah?" Zyran's voice drops and I hear him murmur something else that I can't make out. Is he speaking to a girl? Is it Amara? My heart thunders in my chest. The door swings open, and I hold my breath, pressing the tip of my sliced finger against the wooden floor, the sting flooding through me and calming my heart only for a beat. I watch from the small opening under the bed as Zyran steps into the room, his boots thudding against the floor. One step. Two steps. And then, he halts. My heart lurches, and my stomach twists in knots. I wait and wait, the anticipation clawing at my skin.

The room fills with darkness, and it feels like I'm being suffocated. The sight of his shoes begins to blur, and I press my finger into the wood harder, biting down on my tongue and swallowing the wince. "Come out, come out, wherever you are, little monster," His voice is breathless, almost dropping to a whisper as he utters out the sinful words, every single hair on my body lifting. "Before I decide to seek, and I promise you won't enjoy what happens after I find you."