Ostracized (The Ostracized Saga Book 1)

by Olivia Majors

  I hadn’t been expecting that. I’d been expecting him to ask about the scars on my neck. To question their making. The lies I’ve spun weight me down. And, as I stare at his silhouette against the now star-twinkling sky, I realize I can’t lie to him anymore.

  He’s saved my life more times than I can count. I owe him the truth.

  “I’m not who you think I am,” I blurt out before I change my mind. “I . . .”

  “I don’t think it’s your turn yet,” Shade interrupts me, his tone sharp. “Be patient.”

  “Shade . . .” He must know what I’m going to tell him. That must be why he doesn’t want to hear it.

  “I am pissed off that you have to keep going behind my back and asking Axle everything about both of us. It really irks me, Kyla. And I’ve told you before – I don’t like to be irked.” He steps closer, but not close enough for me to see or define his features. “So . . . ask what you want of me. I promise, I will answer.”

  Once, I would have relished this chance. I would have bombarded him with all the curiosities of my soul. But now . . . I’m afraid.

  “Or does this game no longer interest you?”

  “It was never a game,” I protest.

  “No?” His voice is devoid of any emotion I might use to determine his mood. “You sure treated it like one. Didn’t you want to delve deep into the mysterious shadow-killer’s dirty secrets and finally know the reason why he was such a cruel, heartless bastard?”

  “I never thought you were a cruel, heartless bastard!”

  He cocks his head at me.

  “Okay,” I relent. “Maybe at first. You can’t say that you were the most charming person I’d ever met.”

  “Like Axle?”

  Now there is something else in his aggravated voice. Harsh. Critical. Painful.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I think we both know what I mean by that.”

  I square my shoulders. “Say it then.”

  He pauses, but doesn’t back down from the challenge. “You find him fascinating. Attractive. He’s charming and bold. He knows how to live life and he knows how to have a good time. Who doesn’t like that? It’s exhilarating, yes?” His voice sinks. “I can’t be like that. I can’t be care-free and charming. I can’t hide my true feelings behind a smile and pretend to enjoy life when everything that’s happened to me makes me so angry. I thought, maybe, you understood that feeling. What it feels like to be torn apart and thrown aside. What it feels like to be looked at as something not entirely human.”

  I stare at him, unable to speak.

  “You were always a strange one, Kyla,” he whispers, stepping closer, but keeping his face in the dark. “And there was always something about you that seemed familiar. When I would look at your face in the dark, there was something there that made my head ache as I tried to remember – to remember where I’d seen those large eyes before.”

  I resist the urge to step back and, instead, clench my fists at my sides.

  “Everyone else feared the Kelbans,” he finally says. “Merely because they had built a Wall. What’s so fearsome about that wall? I wanted to know why they needed to build a wall. What were they hiding? What did they think of us? Why did everyone think they – you – were so terrible? So I visited Kelba for the first time. For such a fearsome replica of strength like your Wall it was remarkable how poorly guarded it was. When I saw your kingdom, the emptiness inside me deepened. I discovered I wanted nothing to do with Kelba either.”

  “Why?”

  “They were selfish. They were cowardly. They were and are the exact replica of people in Agron, in Smoke, in the Wilds. And I hate them for it. I can’t respect such people. I never will.” Venom has crept into his tone.

  He hates us. Hates me and my kind to his very core.

  Run. Far away.

  But I stay where I am.

  “But, of course, even though I had wanted nothing to do with Kelba, the shadows had no qualms about sneaking into your land and feeding off of whatever they could find. I refused to let any of them slip through my grasp so I would follow them. Over the wall. Into Kelba. And I’d end them.”

  My mouth is dry.

  “One night I followed four shadows all the way from the Poison River, through the Burnt Forest, into your land. They were different than the others. They were stronger. Darker. And they knew where they were going. It was difficult to track them. I lost sight of them for nearly an hour and thought, for the first time, I’d failed.” He breathes in and out slowly, before continuing. “I heard someone scream. Well, more of a half-scream, half-sob. I was on the rooftops and it wasn’t too far away. I found the shadows, just three of them now, and a man lying prostrate on the cobblestones, blood leaking from his head. It wasn’t an uncommon sight. What was an uncommon sight was the girl one of the shadows was clutching, its teeth buried in her neck. It was very dark, but I could still see the terror in her large eyes. Rage, like I’d never felt before, filled me. I knew that terror. It was the same terror that had rattled through me for three years. And no one had come to my rescue.” I catch my breath as his hand glides over my shoulder and brushes my neck. His fingers find the indents in my skin, applying gentle pressure to tiny ridges. Heat floods my face. “That girl was a High Lord’s daughter who I now know was called ‘Kyla Kelonia Bone’.”

  He knows. The revelation sends terrified shivers down my backside. I try to draw back, afraid of what he’ll do. I’ve lied to him. He has every right to hate me.

  He jerks me towards him, slamming me against his chest, his hand tightening against my neck – curling in my hair. I want to close my eyes. Want to wish everything away. I shouldn’t have let him drag me out of Agron. I should have stayed. I should have pressed my hand over the scars when the vapor shadow attacked me. That is why he pulled me out here, in the middle of nowhere. I wait for his rage to unleash.

  “You knew who I was. There was no way you couldn’t have known,” he whispers softly. It stings worse than a slap in the face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Because I was afraid. Because I didn’t trust you. Because I was a Kelban and you had every right to hate me.

  But I whisper, “You would have killed me,” instead.

  “Is that what you really think?” he asks quietly. I don’t miss the hurt in his tone. The tremor that shivers through his fingers on my neck as they brush my scars in a gentle caress. My legs shake. Several of the insects on the ground, disturbed by my sudden movement, rise into the air, illuminating Shade’s face. His eyes – eyes rimmed in black rings – are so close to mine I blink and try to draw back. He doesn’t let me. “Tell me, Kyla, do you think I would hurt you now that I know the truth? Now that I know who you are?”

  “Is there a reason why you shouldn’t?” Because I can’t think of one.

  “You thanked me,” he says, “for killing them. That long night ago, when I was trying to get away as fast as I could so you wouldn’t scream my presence to the entire city like I expected all Kelbans to do, you thanked me.” He leans closer, until our foreheads are nearly touching. His hair brushes against mine with soft static. “No one ever did that before. No one ever . . .” he swallows, a vein standing out on his neck, “. . . thanked me for what I did.”

  “Do you know I spent years thinking about that girl? Years, wide awake and awestruck, by the girl who hadn’t been afraid of me. Who hadn’t behaved the way I’d thought all Kelbans acted.” He shakes his head, his hair tickling my nose. “And now, I feel like a blind fool. I should have known who you were from the very beginning but I was so angry – so hateful – that I couldn’t see it. Kyla, would you look at me?”

  I do.

  “No one ever took the time to know me,” he whispers, sliding both of his hands upwards to caress my jaw tenderly. “Except you.”

  I am unprepared when he leans in and his lips find mine with gentle pressure. I start to pull away, memories of our last kiss burning in my memory – rough and wild. He glid
es one of his hands down to my waist and pulls me flush against him, the buckle of his pants pressing against my abdomen. His other hand continues to brush my cheek, guiding my mouth against his. Slowly the fear inside of me dissipates. Little buzzing motions spread along my arms like gentle wings. Something low and warm spirals through my body, spreading pleasant claws into the tips of my fingers. There is nothing wrong about this kiss. It is gentle and coaxing, tasting of gratitude, love, and passion. There is no anger – no pain – in this moment. Shade deepens the kiss by looping his arm around my neck with a greater force. It grows fast and furious, a desperation so wild that my head swims. I clutch him around the waist desperate for support as I am tossed into a sea of emotions I’ve only dreamed of. The waves begin to fade. Slowly – slowly – until he pulls his lips away, releases me, and jerks back like he’s been slapped.

  “I won’t do it again,” he says in a rush. The moonlit insects rise from the ground again and flutter around us, illuminating the flush on his cheeks. “I won’t touch you. If it hurts you, I won’t do it.” He’s staring at the scar on my wrist. At the brand on my shoulder.

  My stomach sinks.

  “I’m not married, Shade.”

  He blinks. “W-what?”

  “I never have been.” I hang my head in shame and rub a hand along my arm, suddenly feeling very, very cold. “I was ostracized for refusing to marry Aspen Wood.”

  “You were never . . .wait!” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Your bond to be . . . was Aspen Wood? The Celectate’s son?” He stumbles backwards. “You . . . you could have had wealth. Power. Security. For the rest of your life. And . . .”

  “Watching the Celectate use me to make my father, a man who can do much for Kelba, become a puppet? Watch my family suffer because I was the Celectate’s pawn in one of his grand schemes to attain power? Sleep in a man’s bed – a man’s arms – that I had no inner feelings or respect for? Because I was too much of a coward to make my own choices? No, you were right. Kelbans are cowards. But I didn’t want to live like that. I didn’t want to be the girl who ruined her family because she was too afraid to stand up for what she believed.”

  “So you chose this?” He swings a hand in a wild gesture around the forest.

  I shrug, forcing a half-smile. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

  “And you . . . you weren’t raped?”

  I’d known the question was coming. I’d even prepared for it, but now that his words hang in the open air between us, the only remnant of my former preparation shudders out in an almost imperceptible, “N-no.”

  The insects have returned to their nests upon the ground. I don’t see his face, but I hear the steady intake of breath through his lips. The sigh that hisses from between his teeth. “So . . .” He falters, breathing deeply. Instinctively, my shoulders tighten as he shifts his body in the direction of the glistening water. “So . . .” he tries again, once more pausing to breathe deeply, “. . . you . . . you lied.”

  I don’t feel the need to answer him. My throat is in so many knots I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

  “Why? Why the hell would you tell me something like that if . . .” He turns to face me again, but it’s still too dark to see his face.

  “I . . . had my reasons.” Even if they seemed as useless as shit now. “You can h-hate me if you want. I had my secrets. You had yours. We both made poor judgment mistakes when it came to dealing with our pasts and the lies we wove around them.”

  “Poor judgment . . . my secrets?” he sputters. “You made met think you were ‘raped!’ Raped, Kyla! Do you honestly know what that did to me? To imagine what you . . .”

  “And do you know what it did to me when I had to find out that the person I’ve come to lo . . . care about lived in hell itself for three years? To know that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me?”

  His silhouetted face stares at me. “You could have said ‘no.’ Was it that hard? You didn’t have to lie. You didn’t have to protect yourself. Not from me.”

  If his voice were still aggravated it would be easier. Now the aggravation has changed to hurt. It hurts me too. “And you could have answered all my gods-damned questions about your captivity in a civil manner. Don’t think that the way you’ve handled your own past is any nobler than mine. You didn’t have to shield yourself. Not from me.”

  “You didn’t have to lie.”

  “You didn’t have to push me to the wall and kiss the daylights out of me just to prove a damn point!”

  We square off against his each other, breathing heavily, our hands clenched at our sides. Our enraged voices have forced the glowing insects into the air again, illuminating both our faces. We both take advantage of the moment and look at each other.

  “So . . .” He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, “. . . we’re both admitting we made some shitty mistakes to cover up the lies or truths we refused to shed light on. Is that it?”

  I glare at him, but nod, sullenly.

  “And neither one of us is going to apologize for those mistakes, are we? Because we both did what we could to survive.” His words during my training flutter through my memory and they must have reemerged in his because he growls, “Shit! I trained you to do that too!”

  “I learned from the best,” I mutter with a slight shrug of my shoulders.

  The silence draws out between us. I rub my arms nervously and glance at the peacefully rippling surface of the moonlit water. “D-do you hate me, Shade?”

  Say “no.” Please say “no.”

  “What the hell, Kyla?” He grabs me, but his hold is gentle. He grips my chin and forces me to look at him again. There is no anger in his face. Only a rippling surface of water in his own eyes. “I thought you’d been hurt. Violated. Abused. To find out you haven’t . . . that you’ve never had to go through something like that . . . how could I hate you, when I spent endless nights lying awake, wondering how I could make you look past it? How I could make you forget the pain that a man might have caused you and understand what a man could make you feel? I could never hate you for that. But why did you lie to me?”

  “Because I was afraid if you knew, you would ask more questions. I didn’t want you to know who I was. I was afraid . . .”

  “That I would hurt you,” he finishes for me.

  “Honestly,” I admit, “after a while, I don’t think I was afraid of you. I think I was just afraid of the truth.” Of admitting I was one of the lying, cowardly Kelbans he detests.

  He must have read my silence for what it was because he says, “I never thought you were a coward, Kyla. Never! A coward would have taken one look at me at that bridge, gotten on their knees, and wailed like a babe. Or pissed their pants. A coward would have died in the Burnt Forest. A coward would have run from that razor – and been killed for their effort. A coward wouldn’t have gotten up after being knocked down again and again and again and . . .” He palms my face. “And, if we’re being honest right now, Kyla, I always knew you were a liar.”

  We both chuckle softly.

  “So,” he says, “those times when I would draw near – when Axle acted like a lewd asshole – you didn’t draw back because of traumatic experiences, but because you had never done something like that with anyone.”

  My cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I . . . I’ve kissed before.”

  “Oh, yes,” he whispers, his breath warming my face, “I know. And, for the record, you do it very well.”

  I don’t know if I should turn away or thank him.

  “It makes me wonder,” he says softly, leaning in towards my ear, “what else are you good at?”

  “Kicking your ass,” I retort.

  “How about swimming?” He takes my hand and draws me towards the pool. The surface shimmers in the moonlight and reflects in his eyes like glass.

  An old fear tightens in my gut. “I – I can’t swim.”

  “I noticed,” he answers wryly, no doubt remembering the time he’d pulled me from the river
before we’d arrived in Agron. “I’ll teach you. Of all the things to be afraid of in life, water shouldn’t be one of them.”

  I hesitate.

  “Tell you what,” he says, stripping off his shirt and tossing it beside the pool, “I’ll go first and show you a few tricks. You follow, okay?”

  Doing my best not to stare at his bare chest, I nod, grateful for the darkness that hides my reddening cheeks.

  He wades in until the water is up to his knees, which is only three steps, and dives beneath the crystal surface. I wait for him to emerge, and my heart skips a beat when several seconds pass and he remains underwater. I release a steady breath when his head and shoulders finally burst from the surface, raining droplets of water all around him as he wipes it from his eyes. He waves a hand at me, signaling for me to watch. He proceeds to sweep one arm in front of the other, swimming in a graceful circle before coming back to the edge of the pool. He holds a hand out towards me.

  I glide my hand into his, relishing how smoothly my fingers slip over his skin.

  We slowly walk into the water. It laps up around my ankles, then my shins, then my knees. Nausea leaves chunks of dread in my throat as the water reaches my waist. The ground leaves my feet.

  I latch onto Shade, fingers clawing at his shoulders, his back, his neck. He laughs, but doesn’t shove me away. His hands glide over my waist, feeling strangely heavy in the weightless effect of the water.

  “Kick your legs. No, not like that. You’re kicking me. Kick one. Now the other. Keep doing it. There you go. Give yourself a motion. It’s like dancing, just without the ground.” His instructions are low and calm, so different from the rough chiding I’m used to. My body begins to level itself out.

  “You know,” I say, “if you’d been this way during our recent training I wouldn’t have been so focused on killing you and I might have focused on . . . other things.”

  His low chuckle ripples over my skin like a breath of steam. “In that case, avraga,” he leans close and his lips feather my ear, “I’ll eagerly await our next training session.”