The Heretics

5: Conflictions

There were not many people walking the wide streets of Cinat. In fact, there was barely anyone around but the lot of us, heading towards the palace that stood in all its might in the horizon. It was so large it looked like it swallowed everything around it.

Dante and Kendra walked side by side, his arm resting on her shoulders as her dark, curly hair spilled down her back underneath it. His tattoo was visible, though I couldn't quite make out what the symbols resembled. His entire arm was full of them. As I glanced behind me, where the rest of my pack was, Cora and Emmet fell into my view almost instantly. Their hands were interlocked, and Emmet was whispering something incoherent into her ear, to which she smiled lightly and rolled her eyes. Then Debrova and Jaxxon caught my attention who were both strolling beside each other without much body contact, but they were laughing about something I hadn't paid attention to. There was a lot of affection vibrating in the atmosphere and it didn't take long until it suffocated me.

I slowed my pace until everyone passed me, using the distance to take a deep breath.

This Promised Bond was robbing me more of my energy than it gave me. Everyone always said it would give strength.

Except my mother.

She cursed the Promised Bond.

And now I was slowly understanding why.

"C, what's gotten into you?" a voice piped up. I hadn't even noticed anyone slowing as well, walking at my height now.

I shook my head, not looking at Kendra. She pushed on. "You've been moody ever since we landed. I know something's bothering you. Is it the Deina thing?"

Kicking a few stray rocks aside, I refused to meet her gaze for I didn't want her to be able to read something into this that I wasn't ready to confront. So, I did what I did best and remained quiet, not uttering a word.

She, on the other hand, was all in confrontation mode, unfortunately.

"C, please. Talk to me."

What was there to talk about, really?

She was happy with Dante which was everything I wanted for her. She deserved to be content and at peace with him, just as much as he deserved it. They were good for each other, even I could admit that. During the entire journey so far I'd only seen them be kind and welcoming, albeit there hadn't been that many interactions, but still. It didn't seem as cold, distant and calculating as I felt whenever Reagan's stare set fire to my insides and dumped ice-cold water over it the next minute.

My whole thinking and feelings were scrambled and probably completely out of line. I was overreacting big time, yet realising that did nothing to change how I felt. This was the one thing that Kendra would never be able to understand because I couldn't understand it myself, truly. I was trying to handle emotions I'd never been forced to deal with and now that I was working on not simply drowning them all, they needed to be worked through.

And that process was proving to be everything but easy.

"There isn't much to say," I muttered, not finding the strength to voice my thoughts aloud.

"I'm sure there's a ton," she said with an ounce of impatience in her voice that instantly sent a small shock through my heart that physically hurt for a second. Then my heart started beating faster.

I finally looked up to her, though I kept all emotions out of my face.

"Sometimes I really wonder how we're Maecena's, you know."

That sent another shock through me, like a little, tiny bolt of lightning surging through my body just to cause a stabbing pain in my heart. I nearly put a hand on my chest. Needles.

That's what it felt like. Like tiny needles pushing into my fragile heart.

I kept my eyes trained on her, trying to figure out what it was she was saying.

She turned her head and kept her sight set on the street before us, massive trees cracking out between the stones that made up the walkway. Here and there we needed to step over the roots that bulged out of the ground.

"I try to understand, and I try more than anything to give you time. But I feel like you take that time and just... forget me? Or maybe you don't trust me? I don't really know what the problem is. All I know is that you don't talk to me anymore and I feel like you're someplace completely different most of the time." Kendra's voice was controlled, though I could feel her frustration.

Cornered, I tried to come up with something to say but was at a loss for words. What could I say that would make it any better?

She was right. Everything she said, she was right.

Except for one thing. "I trust you with my life."

She threw her hands into the air. "Then why don't you talk to me? And don't tell me you need time, because I'm the last person on earth that pesters you about anything if it's damn time you want. But at some point, when have you had enough time?" I heard Dante in her voice. Not in the literal sense, but there was a determination in it that hadn't been there before. Dante gave her strength to voice something that she'd never had the courage to say before.

And it broke my heart that I was the reason.

But some stupid, illogical, senseless part of me couldn't explain why my mind could not align the right words to say to her.

I felt guilty. Ashamed. Conflicted.

Kendra's eyes turned back to me, boring them into me as she searched for an answer. I tried to flush away the emptiness and instead let myself feel the conflict, the guilt and the shame. And I hoped it would be enough for her.

"You know what? You deal with whatever it is you're dealing with and when you're done, I'll be here."

And with that, Kendra left and she took a part of me with her.