For the past six months Zen has worked with me to try to overcome it. So that I would be able to protect myself. In case they ever …
Well, in case I was ever in danger.
Zen was convinced that given enough time, enough practice, I could rise above it. Which is why every night, after the house has gone to sleep, we come out here and Zen teaches me how to fight. How to take down an attacker. How to render someone immobile. How to disarm an opponent. Whatever I can do to give myself time to get away.
Tonight is a major milestone. It’s the first night I’ve been able to fight … and win. Not to run away. Not to flee. And more than that, tonight I was the one to initiate the confrontation. I was the one to attack.
I became the lion.
A matching grin spreads across my face as the realization of my accomplishment sinks in. I glance at Zen, who’s still staring up at me with wild, gleeful eyes.
I dive down and plant my lips against his, kissing him hard. My legs kick out behind me and I reposition myself on top of him. I’m starving for him. Ravenous. Desperate to hold on to this feeling of exhilaration for as long as possible and transform it into something more. Something else.
An unfamiliar sensation that I don’t recognize starts to overpower me. Take control of me.
My legs are tingling again. In fact, my whole body is tingling. Prickling with a strange alertness. But this time, it’s different. It’s not because I want to run. It’s because I want to stay. I want more. I want to be closer to him than I’ve ever been before.
I press my mouth more intensely into his, grip the sides of his face, and pull him toward me until I can feel our bodies crushing against each other.
Zen shifts beneath me and lets out a soft moan. It’s not the sound of pleasure. It’s the sound of pain. I recognize the difference immediately and pull back. “Are you okay?”
He laughs, reaching up and tenderly touching the back of his head. “Yeah. You took me down pretty hard though. I feel a splitting headache coming on.”
Panicked, I roll off him and launch to my feet. “I’m sorry!” I cry, recognizing the familiar sense of guilt that’s starting to coat my stomach like a wet rag.
He struggles to sit up, wincing. “It’s okay. I did ask for it.”
I offer him my hand and he takes it, his face twisting in discomfort as I gently pull him to his feet. He wobbles slightly before grabbing on to a nearby low-hanging branch to steady himself. He rests his head against the surface and closes his eyes for a moment that lasts a second too long.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask.
He forces a weak smile. “Yes. I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”
I nod, blinking. “I really am sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he whispers into the tree. “You did great.”
A stiff wind rustles the leaves above us and somewhere in the distance I swear I hear a woman’s voice. It’s vaporous and airy. Like it’s only half-formed. Half-spoken.
“Find me.”
My head jerks up and I glance around, searching for the source. But apart from the sleeping forest animals and creaking trees, we are alone.
“What’s the matter?” Zen asks, peering at me with a concerned expression.
“Did you hear that?”
Zen lifts his head. “Hear what?”
“A voice,” I say, tilting my ear toward the dark sky. “I swear I heard a woman’s voice.”
Zen takes a teetering step away from the tree, wincing slightly. “I didn’t hear anything,” he says through strained breath.
I’m alarmed by his weakness. I grab the lantern and hurry over to him, draping his arm around my neck. We walk ever so slowly back to the house, and I allow him to lean on me the whole way.
I admit it’s a nice change.
6
LOCKED
I help Zen out of his leather boots first, then his doublet, shirt, and breeches. He collapses into the pillows and is asleep almost instantly. I take my time unlacing my corset, relishing the beautiful release when it finally liberates my waist from its clenching wooden embrace. I slide out of my long skirt, change into my linen nightdress, and braid my loose hair down my back.
I glance across the room at Zen, his chest rising and falling.
He usually looks so peaceful in his sleep but tonight his face is contorted by a subtle grimace, making me think that I should have gone easier on him out in the woods. After all, he’s just a regular person. And I’m … well …
I’m me.
I blow out the lantern, tiptoe across the squeaky floorboards, and climb into bed next to Zen. He stirs slightly and rolls toward me, wrapping his arm instinctively around my body.
It’s something he does every night, but this time, for some odd reason, it feels different. I feel different. His touch, which always comforts me and puts me at ease, somehow manages to do the opposite. It makes me feel anxious and uneasy. But it’s not bad. It’s … it’s …