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“Let go of me,” Iris murmured, her voice low. Icy anger crawled up her legs, pinning her in place. Sephone barked a laugh, tightening her grip. “No. I don’t feel like it. And there’s no Tabin to defend you this time. You know,” Sephone growled, yanking Iris closer, “Tabin doesn’t really want someone like you. He only likes you because you’re something new. When it comes down to it, he’ll choose a girl who is like him—not a freak.” “Let go of me!” Iris shrieked. She spun to face Sephone and raked her fingernails down the inside of her arm, breaking the soft skin. Sephone screamed and thrust
...more
Get a life....
Sephone stumbled backward, fear in her eyes. She turned and fled around the corner of the wagon.
Good...
Casandra’s smile fell. “Alright. Well, whenever you decide you want to stop pouting like a child, come find me.” Besaun clenched his hands on his knees. “How can I stop acting like a child when no one will stop treating me like one?” Casandra stared at him. He didn’t meet her eyes, didn’t want to see them soften with compassion. At last, she spoke. “Maybe being a man isn’t something someone has to give you. Maybe being a man is just what you are.” She squeezed his shoulder once more before standing. The door closed softly behind her.
“Oh no!” Iris lunged for the stick, but so did Tabin. They yanked the blackened hare from the fire. Iris stared over the steaming hare at Tabin, and he stared back, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. The edge of his mouth quirked up, and Iris felt his laughter bubbling up in her own heart.
If not Tabin, who could she trust enough to fall asleep with in the midst of a storm? Who had rescued her from the last storm? El. Even as she thought his name, peace unfurled inside her. Yes. She could trust El.
“Tabin.” He closed the gap between them and stopped, watching her. His lips were swollen, angry. “I . . . want you to leave me.” Tabin shook his head. “No.” “Yes. Leave me. I don’t . . . I don’t want you . . . with me.” Iris took a deep breath. The words were poison. “I . . . don’t . . . want . . . you.”
D:
A spark of interest tugged at Iris. There was something different about the voice now. Almost . . . Desperate? “Does it bother you when I ignore you?” The whispered words felt like a betrayal of her grief. A stillness, then the voice said, “A little.” “Good.” Iris almost smiled. Finally. A way to torment her tormentor.
“I didn’t choose Khaoss,” Iris spat. She pushed herself to her feet, and the world reeled under her. She staggered closer, lifting an accusing finger. “And you didn’t either. And the Creaturebloods didn’t. So why are we the ones who suffer?” The Storyteller did not acknowledge Iris’s accusing finger. Her eyes peered into Iris’s soul. “Sweet child, you are right to be angry, though not at El. You think you can exist in Harmony while the world unravels around you? That is not Harmony. Harmony is all parts working toward the same goal. The Firebloods are a part of Unity and must be restored.”
“You are the only Fireblood that has been born in innocence, far away from the center of Khaoss, in ten generations.” The Storyteller stood, taking Iris’s hand and drawing her to her feet. “Only you could have ever fulfilled the prophecy.”
“Not all of it . . . not all of it was a lie.” “Oh?” He folded his arms. “Which part was true?” “My name. My name really is Casandra.” “And that’s all?” She nodded once. Besaun’s lips pinched. “That’s not enough.” He turned and walked away, not looking back this time.
I don't really blame her tbh. I do feel bad for Besaun tho....
