Prisoner

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

"Absolutely not. No way. Out of the question."

"That's bullshit," I argued with Hades, who sat across from me at the breakfast table, "How the fuck am I supposed to get stronger if all I'm doing is walking and eating?" Hades raised an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest. Besides him, Lucy was silently drinking his coffee and watching us over the rim of his cup that read world's best dad on it. It matched Hades's cup that said the same thing, except instead of a little heart on it, there was a skull.

"According to Ryk, you're not doing either of those things anyway, so what's the point?" Hades asked. I glared at him.

"It's not for lack of trying. I don't want to eat. I don't like eating. It's boring."

"Sucks to suck, but that's what you gotta do to, you know, stay alive."

"But it's not gonna help anyway!"

"Yes, it will. Your body needs sustenance, something to draw energy from, and that energy comes from, surprise surprise, food, so do the world a favor and eat your breakfast."

"I'm not hungry!" I snapped angrily, then shoved back from the table and got up, storming out of the room because I hated to be trapped there any longer with those two and their telepathic conversations and their know-it-all attitudes. Of course, it wasn't just the hunger that was getting to me now. Now it was the lack of sleep creeping up on me. The exhaustion was sinking into my bones and making me sluggish, and worse, clumsy. I'd dropped three glasses in the past two days, shattering them on the floor, then I'd banged my head on the shower spigot and fallen down the stairs.

Worse, I wasn't allowed to go outside because of the spring rains that flooded the gardens and the land outside, making it too hard to maneuver and the fact that no one wanted me to get sick outside in the cold rain. And even if I did want to go out, Ryk would have to be with me and specifically keep me away from where the other guys trained, because the day after playing hide and seek had so thoroughly exhausted me that I had to stay in bed all day.

It wasn't fair.

I shouldn't be trapped here doing nothing. I should be out there in the world trying to find the guy who hurt me and kill him.

At this point, I wasn't even sure what to do. It was like nothing I did would get me out of this hole and I was getting uncomfortable in this environment of constant optimism. It was disheartening, honestly.

Sighing, I raked my hands through my hair and headed upstairs with the intention to crawl into bed and do nothing. Hell, I'd even sleep, even if it was only for a couple hours. I got to the floor with the bedrooms, but I heard a strange distant thumping sound. Curious, I headed down the hallway and found my way to the gym. I'd known it was there, but I hadn't seen anyone there in a while and the door was always locked, probably to keep me out.

Today, however, I was surprised to see Blaine, of all people, punching at a punching bag. The bag didn't fly around like it did when Cerberus or Cain hit it, but it did bounce a little at the force. It was so surprising to see Blaine, his tiny little fae ass, kicking the shit out of the punching bag.

I reached for the handle, expecting it to be locked once again, but to my surprise, it clicked open and I walked in. Blaine looked up, steadying the punching bag before he relaxed at the sight of me.

"Oh, it's you," he said disinterestedly as he adjusted the punching bag and went to look at an electronic tablet on a nearby table. I frowned.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Exercising," Blaine said with a sigh, then paused at my weird stare and raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"I just don't picture you lifting a finger," I replied dryly. Blaine snorted as if the idea amused him too and I watched him walk over to pick up a water bottle, then several huge chugs before he turned to me.