Autonomy: Book 2 in the Invasion Day series (12 page)

At least it’s better than having a hole in my chest,
she wrote on the notepad with a smile, and Kronus laughed dryly at her poorly timed joke.
Tell me why you were so angry. Was I wrong to try and save you?

“You weren’t wrong to do what you did, Kyra. You weren’t wrong to do anything your entire life. I was angry with myself because I didn’t deserve to have your blood on my hands. I’ll never forget watching that bullet tear through you…I wished it’d got me instead,” he answered solemnly, and scratched at his thick, dark beard.

Kyra got as comfortable as she could against the fluffy pillows, and she then patted the bed for him to come and lay with her. Thankfully, Kronus didn’t hesitate, and she felt instantly better for having him next to her.

You’re going to have to do all the talking,
she wrote on the pad, and he nodded.
Where are we?

“My home, Kro Island. This is where I’ve lived and worked from since Invasion Day, and is my entire life, or what little I have of one here. I’ve mastered the art of shutting out the world over the years, and if I can assure you of one thing, it’s that you won’t be bored,” he answered, and looked across into her eyes with a sad smile. He was so close, and his hand cupped her cheek before he pushed it up through her hair. “I want you to stay here with me, Kyra. You don’t have to decide right away, but at least tell me you’ll stay for a while?” he asked, and Kyra leaned back so she could write down her response. She struggled to write without shaking, but had to know that he wasn’t leading her on, or acting purely out of guilt.

I thought I was just cattle? A reject?
she jotted down with one eyebrow raised in question.

“Not to me. Never to me. You know the truth about the serum now, and I’m sorry for what happened to you and your friends. But, there are other games in play, and when things kick off, I want you here where I know you’ll be safe,” he told her, and started scratching at his beard again. He was always aggressive with his actions when he was overthinking things, and Kyra laughed silently at how she’d already figured out some of his tells.

When what kicks off?
she asked, and Kronus dropped his gaze from hers. Whatever it was, it had to be big even if he couldn’t even look her in the eye.

“Nothing, just a figure of speech. I only want to keep you safe,” he answered, and while she knew it was a lie, Kyra was too tired to question him further. As with everything when it came to this mammoth man and his race, she now knew better than to push things, and guessed she’d learned that lesson the hard way. She simply gave him a nod in answer and grabbed her pad again.

Tell me something nice, a good story?
she requested as she snuggled down to rest her head on his shoulder, while also pulling his hand away from his chin to stop him from rubbing it raw.

Kyra then fell asleep listening to him tell the story of how as children, he and Thrayke had once gone swimming in a lake full of poisonous frogs, and how they’d both spent weeks recuperating from the strangely potent effects in the hospital back home on Thrakor. His story provided the perfect escapism, and she let her imagination run wild with images of the pair of them laughing as they had their innocent fun.

***

When she stirred a few hours later, the huge house was dark and silent. Kyra climbed up off the bed and was impressed with her renewed strength as she stepped toward the huge window and watched the sun that’d started to rise on the horizon. Her hands instinctively went to her wound, and she flinched at the tightness of the stitches. They felt like they were already prepared to come out, and were beginning to itch. In an attempt to soothe it, she rolled her shoulders to loosen her skin and muscle, when a loud ‘crack’ thundered out from deep inside her chest. Icy nausea swept over her as a wave of pain then took hold of her entire body, and she immediately started to gag. Kyra ran to the en-suite and hunched over the toilet seat, expecting bile to come out of her empty stomach, but instead she looked down to find chunks of bone, bloody flesh, and even a couple of slivers of some kind of metal in the bowl. She choked and coughed up more of the disgusting refuse, and wondered what on earth could’ve happened within her body that would’ve dislodged the vile mess her stomach had somehow still been holding on to.

“What’s the matter?” Kronus asked groggily from behind her, and Kyra tried to wave him away. Her voice was still gone, and she didn’t want him to see what’d just come out of her, but he wouldn’t go. “I’m calling Greegis. Surely that’s not right?” he asked, and was still white as a sheet when Kyra had finally cleaned herself up and flushed away the evidence of her body’s odd way of healing. She shook her head profusely, and mouthed her plea while trembling with fear. No matter what was happening to her, she didn’t want that awful man anywhere near her ever again.

Kyra brushed her teeth and took a few deep breaths. She quickly realized just how shallow her breathing had been before she’d puked up the blood and bone, and knew something had cleared—for the better. Despite the gore of it, and the panic they’d both felt at the reaction, she actually felt better and took numerous deep breaths before heading back into the bedroom.

Not him. Never let that man near me again,
Kyra demanded via her notebook, and she wrote in capitals so he knew how serious she was.

“Fine, but one day you’re telling me why you’re so terrified of him,” he insisted as he backed off, and she shrugged a non-committal affirmation.

Kyra took a few more breaths, and felt the improvement more and more with each deep lungful of air. The stitches itched again, and she quickly decided enough was enough. They had to come out. Kronus hovered by the doorway, watching her with slowly retreating fear now that he could see she was better for having puked her guts up, but he still pounced on her when she grabbed a set of scissors from the cabinet on the wall and turned them towards her chest.

He understood exactly what she was planning on doing, and snatched the scissors from her hand. “I’ll do it,” he said, and when she nodded, he started the slow task of carefully snipping at the knots pulling her wound taught. Pain shot though her chest each time the scissors yanked at the wiry thread, but then it was replaced with the most wondrous sense of release when he’d pulled the knot clear, and Kyra knew it was the right decision to cut them away.

Kronus was leaning down so close to her chest that she could smell his hair, and she closed her eyes so she could breathe him in and try to forget the pain. She let her mind wander, but came back to reality quickly when she remembered what he’d asked of her the night before. Kronus wanted her to stay, but she couldn’t understand why. A huge part of her wanted him to show the world what she meant to him. To defy his father’s laws and make it known that she was of importance to him. But at the same time, she didn’t fully know for sure whether she actually meant anything more to him than simply being another of his guilty pleasures. Kyra had even begun wondering if perhaps she was just another human object he could add to his cabinet of trophies from his time away from home.

Kronus had shown her only tiny snippets of his feelings each time he’d opened up, but then always seemed to regret it almost instantly, and would usually find a way to counteract the niceness in one manner or another.

He’d been kind and gentle since retrieving her from Tuka’s grasp though, and she hoped things might stay that way. “There,” Kronus’ voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and she stared into his deep brown eyes for a moment before looking down to inspect his handiwork. The wound was angry and red, but the skin had already miraculously fused, and it looked far better than she’d thought it would. A thick line ran from the nape of her neck to the end of her breastbone, and she hoped it might still heal and be just a small scar at the end. On the one hand, she felt proud of her battle scar, and on the other, she felt like a fool. With no regard for the hard work Kronus, Thrayke, and the others had put in to save her, she’d almost thrown her life away. No wonder he’d been so angry, regardless of what he’d said the night before.

Kyra turned and leaned over the basin so Kronus could make a start on the wound on her back, but part of her wanted to run away and hide her embarrassment. Since she’d stormed back into his life, she’d brought with her nothing but chaos, and not once had she asked if he was ready to deal with the crazy she always had dragging at her heels.

She felt far from the headstrong and fearless woman she’d tried so hard to become over the years. Instead, all she’d given him had been a defiant, stubborn girl with no regard for hers or anyone else’s safety. Kyra knew she had acted selfishly in her quest for knowledge, and realized she didn’t deserve his kindness, or his hospitality. She was a fraud, and felt truly ashamed of herself.

She let herself cry, and was glad that Kronus seemed to think she was tearful from the pain of her wounds, rather than her shame. The tears stopped after a while, and Kyra swore to herself that she wouldn’t hide her pain or emotion any longer. Whenever she tried to fight them, she’d failed tremendously, and promised herself she’d also stop being so quick-tempered and reckless. She’d right the wrongs she’d done, and would go back to The Tower without a fight the next time Kronus demanded it of her. A life of servitude would help her atone, and just making that promise to herself helped the darkness that’d crept into her thoughts dissipate a little.

When he was done, Kronus stood tall and stretched his back. Kyra watched him in the mirror, unable to take her eyes off him. He really was a behemoth, and she let herself watch his flawless body in awe. Every muscle was huge and defined, like a true soldier, but the way he moved was somehow graceful. The aristocracy of Thrakor had a lot to be proud of if he was a typical specimen, and she felt her cheeks burn when he caught her watching him. “I might get rid of the beard, what do you think?” he asked, and she shook her head wildly. She loved the rugged handsomeness of it, and instinctively put her hand out to touch it, but then pulled it away and dropped her eyes to the floor. He wasn’t hers, and Kyra knew she’d have to get used to the fact that when he was ready to bring his betrothed to Earth, she was absolutely going to be left behind.

He noticed her hesitation, and sighed. She guessed neither one knew the best way to proceed with a relationship. Would they just be friends? Could they even be that? She was still unsure, but there was a definite attraction they were both fighting to control, and she had to admit, it felt good to feel that quickening of her heart and the flush of her skin again. Death had come close to claiming her just days before, and Kyra was glad she’d thwarted that icy grasp for a second time.

She stepped away, rolling her shoulders slowly and carefully in a bid to check for any impaired movement, and was pleased to discover the crack that’d ripped through her before seemed to be the one and only one. She turned on the shower, and then shooed Kronus away so she could get inside. He grinned, as though tempted by a mischievous thought, but then left her alone.

Ditching her dirty clothes, Kyra climbed beneath the powerful jets. The hot water stung her sensitive skin, but it was a bittersweet sensation she felt she needed, and she stood under the cascade for a long time. The sense of cleansing away the past few days was wonderful, and when she finally emerged, she felt like a new woman. With one huge towel wrapped around her body and another around her head, she walked back into the bedroom in search of something to wear, and jumped. She was certain she’d just blushed from head to toe when she found Thrayke and Domo sitting around the small table with their King deep in conversation.

Sorry
, she mouthed, and reached for the nearest drawer in a desperate search for something to wear, but it was empty.

“Here, I brought you some clothes,” Thrayke said with a gentle smile as he climbed up out of his seat, and he opened the bottom drawer for her. Inside were shirts and jeans, and she was glad he remembered what outfits she preferred, and her size. There was even underwear and fresh pajamas for her, and she grinned. “Wear the purple, it brings out the hint of green in your eyes,” he added, handing her a checked shirt, and then he looked away before she could make a fuss of his comment. She guessed he must be just as awkward as she was about all of this, but sincerely hoped they could still be allowed to have their friendship once the dust had fully settled.

Kyra went back into the bathroom, where she got dressed and ran a comb through her almost shoulder-length hair. She left it down to dry, and then headed back out to the bedroom again. The three men all looked up at her and smiled as she reached them, evidently pleased to see her up and about. Rather than feel good under their gazes though, she felt like a mix between a prized pet and a child. They’d hushed their conversation for the second time, and Kyra hated being left out of the loop. Forcing the blues away, she joined them at the table and raised an eyebrow, daring any of them to stop her, and was glad when none of them said a word.

“I’d like an expert to come and check her voice. Everything else seems to be almost healed apart from that. If she’s going to end up as a mute, we at least need to know so we can figure out what to do communications wise,” Kronus said, and Domo nodded in agreement.

Although he was right, Kyra hated the idea that she might never speak again. She had to believe her voice would come back, and tapped the center of the table to get his attention. He frowned when she shook her head no, but when she tapped her wrist and traced a circle there, he finally understood. “You want more time?” he asked, and she nodded.