Page 10 of The Marked and the Broken
Bastien’s eyes flick back in my direction as he hugs his uncle, and I know my words about not trusting Silva are dancing around in his mind. The sudden need to reassure Bastien that he doesn’t have to choose fills me, and I slide out from my hiding spot in the van. I don’t care how mad I am at Silva, Bastien should know that he can love the uncle that raised him even if Silva hates me, even if I don’t trust him, and I would never expect otherwise.
I haven’t even stepped all the way out of the van into the chill night when I hear Silva demand, “What the hell are they doing here?” and his attention is locked onto Enoch and his coven. “I told you specifically not to involve the elders; what did you two do?” Silva accuses as he turns to Evrin and Aydin.
“We didn’t tell the elders, asshole,” Aydin informs Silva with an irritated glare. “They have a rune situation going on, and they’re here to train with Vinna.”
I don’t miss the way Silva stiffens at the sound of my name or the way he looks over Enoch and his coven and then runs his eyes over the new runes that Bastien, Knox and Ryker now have. Silva turns to find me, and the disapproval and mistrust in his eyes lashes out at me like a whip. He says nothing as he stares at me, but I can feel the unspoken contempt he has for the fact that I’ve marked more casters and tainted them with what I am.
Silva never saw my markingthe boysas a good thing. Even after Reader Tearson explained that I was a Sentinel and that being Chosen was, according to him, an honor. Aydin’s words echo through my mind as he tells me about the lamia they tortured and the ominous warning he gave about me and what I am. I tell myself that this fear,this misconception, is what’s fueling Silva’s feelings and actions, but as I meet Silva’s glare and feel the judgment pulsating from him, I decide I just don’t give a fuck about thewhybehind his issues anymore.
Maybe I’ve been trying too hard to be understanding of Bastien and Knox and the shit that went down before we came here, but I’m tired of trying to walk in other people’s shoes or giving them the benefit of the doubt if they aren’t willing to do the same for me.
Fuck ’em.
I shore up my walls and refuse to absorb anymore of Silva’s vitriol. I let my gaze fill up with my own disappointment. Whether he likes it or not, I’m with his nephews. It’s time for him to grow the fuck up and let go of his bullshit assumptions about me and see me for who I really am. It’s time he learns that he can’t pull this shit with me anymore. In the beginning I kept quiet, not sure where I fit and not willing to put a stop to the hate aimed my way if it meant risking the answers I was so desperate for. But I’m fresh out of fucks these days.
“Word on the street is that two-thirds of your idiot brigade managed to get themselves caught and now need rescuing,” I say to him, my tone casual, but my eyes are bleeding just as much disdain and judgment as his are. “Want to fill all of us in on how you ended up here in the first place?” I ask, pushing for answers to the questions that have been churning inside of me since the sisters mentioned that Lachlan, Keegan, and Silva were here following some mystery lead.
Silva’s gaze narrows slightly before he looks away and turns his displeasure on Aydin. “What the hell, Aydin?” he asks, giving him a pointed look, like somehow his real question isn’t obvious.
I step toward Aydin, refusing to be dismissed. “What do you mean, Silva, you don’t need help? You’ve got things covered here?”
He doesn’t say anything, and all I can do is shake my head at how ridiculous he’s being. Looks like all this time spent with Lachlan has pushed Silva even further into his dislike for me, although why I feel surprised and frustrated by that, I don’t know.
“It’s cool, Silva,” I tell him when it’s clear he’s not going to speak to me directly. I walk back to the van. “Let me know when you’re ready to pull your head out of your ass and realize I’m probably your best bet at getting your coven back,” I tell him over my shoulder as I pull my bag out and move toward the house on the left.
“Little Badass, where are you going?” Aydin calls at my back.
“To find somewhere to crash.”
“Those houses haven’t been opened up yet,” Silva informs me, abandoning the silent treatment he seemed hell-bent on administering.
“I’ve stayed in worse places,” I tell him nonchalantly. “I’m sure as fuck not staying with you or anyone else incapable of getting over themselves.” With that, I shoot a look over my shoulder at Knox and Bastien.
They both meet my frustrated gaze head on, neither one of them ready to back down yet. I shake my head and walk out of the halo of light the center house is providing and out into the dark cold of the Belarusian night. If they want to stew in their anger, that’s their choice, but they can stay with their uncle, who I’m sure would be all too happy to fan the flames of discord.
Pain flashes through my chest at the thought that maybe Knox and Bastien might never come around. That maybe they’ll start looking at me the waytheiruncle andmyuncle do. I let anger drop kick the hurt right out of my chest and steel myself. If this is all it takes to break their faith in me, then I probably never had it in the first place and I’m better off without them.
I twist the knob to the front door of the dark building I’ve claimed as mine. The wood of the door sticks to the frame, so I shove my shoulder into it and force it open. I’m not sure what I expected, maybe dust and cobwebs all over, but it looks pretty clean past the stale feel of the place and the cold air that greets me from the entryway. I flip a switch to my left, and the lights blink on. The scuffling of feet sounds just behind me, and I turn to find Torrez.
“So, Witch, or should I say Sentinel?” he queries, half his beautiful mouth turned up in a smile. I chuckle. “Yep, the guys filled me in on the car ride over. I always knew there was something different about you,” he taps his nose, and I reach out to flick it. “Where’s our room?” he asks with a sly grin as he dodges my assault.
“Our room?” I ask.
“Definitely our room. You need time to process, and I have no issue with that, but you’re mine now, and I’m yours. I don’t see any point pretending things are any other way.”
I raise an eyebrow in question at his statement. He’s right, and I did just say anyone staying here needed to get over themselves, and I have no trouble admitting that applies to me too. He is mine. Which is exactly the way that I wanted it when I marked him.
“Lead the way, Wolf,” I tell him with a cheeky grin and a wave of my arm into the house.
Torrez’s half smile morphs into a full-blown grin, and he swings a duffle over his shoulder and steps past me.
His shoulder brushes against mine, and it sends a dusting of goosebumps all over my body. “Torrez?”
He turns his deep brown eyes to mine.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I admit.
I raise my hand and brush the tips of my fingers against the black scruff on his cheek. His molten gaze takes me in for a moment before he leans into my palm. He turns his head and kisses the inside of my hand softly before moving down a hallway to our right.
