A Touch of Death

by J. J. Dean

  The room goes deathly still, and my breaths are coming in quick. My barely restrained anger niggles at me, but I hold on to it with an iron grip. I need air. I need to be outside, away from...everything.

  My eyes dart to the front door, and I rise from my seat without much thought. The need to get away for a little while is so strong that I can almost feel it scraping at my skin. I turn my body to face the guys, but I don't meet their gazes, though I do see Ezra looking a little pale. My voice is tight and strained when I open my mouth next. "Excuse me."

  I hear two of them inhale, ready to speak, but I'm turning on my heel and heading for the door before a word can escape them. Flinging the door open, I step outside, and take in a much needed deep breath. I slam the door shut behind me before taking off towards the trees that surround the house and move past a gleaming red truck that does nothing to blend into its surroundings and walk straight into the woods.

  I'm careful with my foot placements, but I still nick my toes and heels on thorns. The cuts are quicker to heal now that I've rested and been fed, so I pay them no mind and keep marching through the woods, brushing my hand over flowers and the rough bark of the trees as I go by.

  The more I walk, the more my anger finally begins to drain, leaving a gaping hole in my chest for the grief and sorrow to take its place. The more time I spend surrounded by nature, the less I want to scream at the sky and curse the Fates for taking my family away from me. The sadness burrows deep in my soul, more so now that the rage I was barely restraining has begun to ebb away.

  I find a small spot in the woods where the grass is flat enough to sit without rogue twigs digging into my skin, so I make my way over and settle onto the floor with my legs crossed. Absentmindedly, I begin the play with the blades of grass, picking one and twisting it into knots to showcase just exactly what's going on inside my head and heart.

  The rustle of leaves, the wind floating through the trees, and the pitter patter of small animals scurrying about the forest calms me some more, and my body begins to relax from its rigid position. I twirl the blade of grass until it's a knotted mess before throwing it away and picking a broken flower with bent and tattered petals. Looking at the flower as I twirl it in between my fingers I realise I'm looking at a very accurate resemblance to how I'm feeling at the moment. I’m feel as broken as the flower, my heart tattered and heavy with the weight of the pain that's suddenly crashing down on me. Ruined with the realisation that I'm suddenly alone in the world; my family is gone, and so are my people. I'm the very last of my people alive. I've never felt such loneliness before.

  Before I know it, tears are leaving liquid tracks down my cheeks, dripping off my jaw and onto the imperfect flower that's still in my grasp. I drop the flower and watch it fall, the petals wilting away and scattering in the wind when a breeze filters through the trees. Simply watching something so pretty and precious crumble to nothing but a broken stem has all the pain pouring out of me in broken sobs and anguished cries. I curl into myself, sliding to the floor until I'm lying in the grass, hugging my arms to my stomach and lifting my knees close to my chest.

  Surrounded by nature, I finally break.

  I pour my heart out into the grass, trails of tears dripping from my eyes while harsh sobs wrack my body. Sobs for my sister who will never marry or have children. Sobs for my father who I’ll never receive another comforting hug from again. Tears for my entire race that were wiped in mere seconds, children and adults alike.

  I don't know how long I lie in the woods, breaking over losing everything. Finally releasing the pent up agony I've kept at bay for too long already.

  A little while later, I vaguely hear movement behind me, but I don't move. I couldn't even if I wanted to. It's like my body has moulded itself into the earth beneath me, content to lie here for however long it'll take my heart to mend itself, to sew itself back together until it's whole again.

  Finally, after a long, long while, my cries lessen, and my sobbing quiets down to sniffles and hiccupped breaths. My head feels cloudy and fuzzy, and my body has grown numb from how tightly I've held myself in the same position. My neck is sore, and my back aches something fierce, but I still don't move. I just lie here, staring mindlessly at the trees in front of me. Even when the large white and grey wolf trots in front of my face and leans down to nudge my cheek with his nose.

  Nix found me.

  He whines and nudges me again, but it's as though I'm suddenly empty. I can't bring myself to lift my head and acknowledge him the way I should. I don't have it in me to function normally right now, so I hold on to the numbness for a little while longer.

  The giant wolf circles around me once, then twice, before stopping behind me. He's close enough that I can feel the heat pouring off him and warming my back. I then feel him shuffle closer until his entire body is lying down and pressed up against me. His nose tucks into the back of my neck, and the huff of warm air he releases tickles the hair at my nape. It's comforting, feeling him so close. With how near he is, a fraction of me settles.

  With the shifter pressed up against me, his heat seeping into my bones and feeling utterly spent after releasing my grief into the world, I feel utterly exhausted. I can feel my eyelids drooping, and my breathing begins to even out. I really shouldn't fall asleep outside, though. I don’t know how far away from the waterfall we are, and I have no way of knowing if Davis is still searching for me.

  I give myself a mental slap to my face, blink a couple of times, and swallow hard before whispering to the big wolf behind me, "We should go back before I fall asleep out here."

  Nix whines before nudging the back of my head gently with his nose. With great effort, I pull myself from the floor. Nix jumps up immediately, pushing his body into mine to help my balance. Once I'm upright and steady, I slide my hand into the fur at the nape of Nix's neck and stroke my thumb over his soft coat. "You'll have to lead the way. I have no idea which direction I went or anything."

  The wolf huffs, once again making a sound similar to a laugh, but he leads us through the woods. I keep my hand pressed into his fur, for reasons unbeknownst to me, while we trail through the trees until we reach the bright red truck that's hard to miss.

  My hand slips away from Nix when he stops, and I keep walking. He's then behind me, nudging my back until I'm walking towards the front door. The door opens before I can lift my hand to knock, and Zayn steps back before wolfy behind me pushes me into him.

  "You could be a little less pushy," I grumble under my breath. Nix's only response is to shove me further into the house until I'm standing by the couch I'd been sitting on before. I turn to face Nix before he nudges me once more, and I fall onto the couch. "Well, alright. I guess that's one way to get what you want."

  I get another huffed laugh, and then the animal is jumping onto the couch with me and plopping his giant head onto my lap, effectively pinning me in place. Not that I had any intention of leaving this spot, seeing as though it really is the comfiest thing I've ever sat on.

  My hand crawls back into Nix's fur, and I tilt my head back against the couch, my eyes slowly drifting closed. My breathing slows, and the beginnings of sleep already start to pull at me.

  Before I can succumb, a velvety voice whispers next to me, "Novia?"

  With my head feeling like it's being weighed down with lead, I roll it on the couch to face the direction the voice came and force my eyes open. Directly in front of me is Ezra's face, his chiselled features more prominent now that he's right in front of me. His nose is straight and narrow, with full lips beneath it. There's a dimple in his chin that has me wanting to lift my hand and press a finger to it. What a strange thought. It's his eyes, however, that have me keeping my eyelids from closing again. His deep chocolate-coloured eyes look sad and guilt-ridden. I don't like that look.

  "Novia?" he asks again, trying to gain my attention.

  I'm too tired to give him a verbal answer, so I offer him a, "Hmm?"

  He swallows hard, the gulp loud enou
gh for me to hear, before his eyes flicker down and back up to meet mine. His voice is quiet when he says, "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. It was insensitive, and I didn't think before opening my mouth."

  I don't need my abilities to know how sincere that apology is. I can see it in those dark eyes of his. I can feel the truth in his words.

  I blink slowly, exhaustion dragging me down into a pit of unconsciousness. Before I drift off completely, I raise the hand that isn't gripping onto Nix without thinking and cup his face in my palm. He freezes, and his eyes widen a fraction, but he doesn't pull away. His stubbled jaw grazes my hand, but it's a pleasant feeling. I stroke my thumb over his cheekbone, close my eyes, and tell him, "I forgive you...as long as I get pancakes when I wake up."

  I can feel it when he grins, and when I open my eyes again, it's to see a genuine smile. That smile does something funny to me, just like Nix's laugh, or the way Spencer always seems to help me when I need it, or Zayn's shy but attuned nature. Something inside me settles and warms with it, but I don't know what.

  I'll think about it when I'm awake and not already half asleep.

  I feel Ezra push his face further into my hand before whispering, "I'll make you all the pancakes you want."

  His smile is the last thing I see before everything goes dark, and I'm fast asleep.

  *****

  I wake up to light streaming through the open curtains of the living room. My entire body is warm all over, bordering on too warm, but I'm too comfortable to move just yet. I'm curled up against the arm of the couch, and someone was kind enough to drape the fluffy throw over me, but that's not what has me so warm. It's the body snuggled up to my side and back.

  Nix is in back in man form, his entire body plastered to me, shaping mine perfectly with his knees tucked into the bend of my legs. I can feel his chest firmly pressed up to my back, and every even breath he takes through his mouth causes my hair to move and tickle my forehead. One of his arms is wrapped tightly around my waist like he's afraid I'm going to disappear, and the other, I realise, is cushioning my head. So, it's not the arm of the couch I'm curled against, it's Nix.

  I don't know the shifter, but I find myself not wanting to move from his embrace. Is it weird that it feels right to be exactly where I am? Once again, something inside me settles, like there was a raging bull pacing around in the caverns of my chest, but it's been soothed by the touch of this stranger. It's strange. Mating bonds between fae are the only cause of those kinds of feelings and reactions. I know I'm not mated to a fae, but that isn’t a fact that seems to matter since the unusual feelings only appear when the four strangers are around. I wonder what it could be.

  The arm around my waist tightens suddenly, and a deep grumble sounds from behind my head. I don't know why that has my belly tightening and my heartbeat picking up its pace, but it does. Nix snuggles closer to me, and I feel my body going rigid. It's not because being held like this isn't amazing, because it is, but I haven't been held like this in... well, ever. We were taken when I'd just turned eighteen, and before that I never really had an interest in guys. I was always following my older sister around or getting into whatever trouble I could find. Guys weren't on my radar and became even less so when we were captured.

  Nix must feel my body turn to stone because he's suddenly awake and quickly but carefully unravelling himself from me. He sits up swiftly, and when I look over, there's an alluring blush staining his tanned cheeks. I can feel my cheeks warming too, but I can't help but smile at the embarrassed and twitchy man next to me.

  "Sorry! You were shivering, and when we all left to go to bed, you started crying in your sleep, and then you screamed, and then you cried more, and you were only quiet when I sat back down next to you," he blurts so fast that it's almost a struggle to keep up with what he's saying. He carries on with his word vomit before I can intervene. "I didn't mean to wrap around you like a pretzel, but I must have gotten uncomfortable at some point in the night and snuggled into you without knowing it. I mean, you're a snuggable person, so it's partly your fault. Not that I'm blaming you! But you really shouldn't be easy to snuggle like that if you don't want to be snuggled. I've said the word snuggle so many times that it doesn't sound like a word anymore."

  I'm pretty sure my eyebrows are almost halfway up my head. He's rambling so hard that I have to bite my lip to stop the laugh that's building in my chest from flying out of my mouth.

  "Nix, shut up, mate. You're making it worse with the verbal diarrhea." The crisp English accent has my head snapping up to see Ezra leaning against the island counter with his right arm crossed over his chest and a steaming mug in his left hand. He lifts the cup, so his mouth is hidden, but I'm pretty sure I saw the beginnings of a smile.

  My eyes go back to Nix, who looks more flushed than before. I'd never have pegged him to be embarrassed easily. I sit up fully and wrap myself thoroughly in the blanket, now that Nix stole his heat back, and face him.

  "Nix, it's fine. I'm not bothered by it. It took me by surprise because..." I let my sentence trail off and look down. I don't want to sound pathetic, and I really don't want to see pity in his eyes if I tell him that I haven't had anyone hold me like that before. A frown forms on my face, and I look up again. Nix is warily watching me, and I feel bad that he's flustered because he thinks he's overstepped, so I suck up my pride and blurt out what I was going to say. "I've never been held like that before, so I kind of freaked out for a minute. I didn't know what to do, and I literally froze. It's fine. Don't worry about it."

  I give him a quick smile before looking away. I stand with the blanket wrapped around my shoulders and shuffle towards where I remember the hallway being, hoping it’ll lead me to the bedroom. Before I make a fool of myself and stumble into a bedroom, I ask Ezra which door houses the bathroom. He answers, “The first on the left,” and I dart to the room before my cheeks grow redder.

  Once safely locked away in the bathroom, I heave out a breath. I rub my hands over my face before going about my business. As soon as I relieve my bladder, I wash my hands and then my face, wiping away the grime that still covers my skin. I need a shower. I'm nothing short of a hot mess. My hair is a ratty blonde mess, there's dirt in various places over my body, and I'm still wearing Nix's shirt.

  Once I'm done, I head back into the living room. I open my mouth to ask to use the shower, but before I can get a word out, the heavenly smell of pancakes wafts through the air. Without turning away from the stove, Ezra says, "Go sit back down. I'll bring your breakfast over to you when it's done."

  Who am I to turn down an offer like that?

  Chapter 8

  Ezra

  Novia shuffles into the room, still wrapped in the fluffy grey blanket. Tentatively, she sits back down next to Nix, looking anywhere but in his direction. She still has a pink tint to her cheeks, but it's faded since being in the bathroom. Her face looks cleaner, too.

  Ah shit, we haven't even offered the shower to her. She's been locked up for five years, ran through the bloody forest to further her escape, jumped off a cliff, and landed on the muddy banks of a river. And that was basically two days ago. I might as well welcome the guilt I'm starting to frequently feel with open arms at this point. I'll get the necessities ready for her while she eats the pancakes I promised her before she fell asleep.

  My mind goes back to that moment while I flip an expertly-made pancake in the air before catching it. I remember the tingling current that sparked from under her fingertips and into my jaw. She surprised me when she reached out to touch me with her small, delicate hand. Her slim fingers were soft against my skin, though my stubble obstructed her touch a little. I've never been more annoyed with my facial hair, which leaves me annoyed at myself for being annoyed. Fucking hell, I sound like a girl. This woman has me all kinds of twisted right now, and I can't make up my mind if I like it or strongly despise it, so I seem to be flickering between the two like an idiot. She's a complete stranger, and yet here I am, making pancakes to make he
r happy while mentally listing all the items she'll need for the first shower she'll have since being taken and chastising myself all at the same time.

  I shake my head and plate up Novia's food, adding the last pancake to the top of the pile I've made for her. Maybe it's too much, but she ate yesterday’s like they were going to disappear at any second.

  Once I have her food dished up and ready to serve, I move around the island counter and walk towards her, plate in one hand and cutlery in the other. She's literally twiddling her thumbs and looking down at her lap when I reach her. Her head snaps up, and her eyes meet mine briefly before they fall to the food I'm holding. Her blue and green eyes light up like the fourth of July, and a warm tingle spreads through my chest at the grin she gives me, gleaming white teeth and all.

  "As promised," I tell her while placing the plate on her blanket-covered lap. I hold out her cutlery for her, and when she reaches for them, her hand brushes mine, and a stronger jolt of warmth rushes through my chest. Fuck, if that isn't a mating bond like Zayn believes it to be, what the hell is it?

  Novia's head flicks up when her skin touches mine, and our gaze meet. Confusion mars her features as her eyes glide down to where her hand is touching me. Does... does that mean she felt that, too? But she looks as baffled as the rest of us, so if she is feeling the same thing, then she doesn't understand it either.

  I release the cutlery quickly, and she brings them to her chest. She shakes her head a little and then dives into her food.

  "What the hell, man? Where's my pancakes?" Nix asks, throwing his arms in the air with a teasing smirk. Glad to see he's over his bumbling attempts at not making a total fool of himself.

  "You can cook your own, you animal." I walk away, heading towards the bathroom, but not before I hear the shifter snort.