Growing Wildflowers | WLW

Peony

Sophie pushes her tongue into the side of her cheek, thinks for an unbearable minute while her eyes focus on the ground, the coffee table, anything but me until finally she lets out a breath and says, "I can't guarantee the others will go for it."

"Will you? Will you go for it?"

She shakes her head and stands. "I'm not going to... I'm not going to protect a human, Gwen. Are you okay?" She motions to her head.

"We were all human," I snap. "I was and so were you. And every other blood sucker on this planet. We were all human at one point."

Sophie crosses her arms over her chest. "Are you going to blood bond with this girl?"

"No." I answer too quickly, too aggressively. "No, I'm... I wouldn't do this to anyone."

My chest clenches waiting for her response. When I express frustration over being a soulless animal capable of hunting and murdering with a one hundred percent success rate, other blood suckers tend to get angry. John yelled at me, Bri hung up on me, Aurora brushed it under the rug, Gunner would never understand, and worst of all, it's grounds for execution if the elders find out.

But, instead of telling me off, Sophie flashes a sympathetic smile. "I remember when I was like you." She nudges my shoulder. "Which girl is it? The one with green eyes?" I flash a confused look and she sighs. "On the beach," she explains, "you used your own body to block her from the rest of us." She chuckles. "I could have torn your head off."

I open my mouth, close it again, trying to shove my hands deep in my pockets when I realize these pants don't have any. I'm still wearing the gray sweatpants and matching crewneck from the elder's torture chamber. It's as if Sophie makes the same realization because she nods to her bedroom.

"You should change before you go see your girl."

"She's not—"

Sophie flashes me a playful smile and leads the way into her bedroom which is just as sleek as the rest of the house, a white comforter tucked over her mattress, a modern bedside table, no dresser in sight. She motions for me to follow her when I stop short and cranks the shower on.

"I'll grab some clothes for you. Don't worry, I won't make you look stupid," she brushes her fingertips against my shoulder before she makes her way into the walk-in closet, and I let out a long breath.

For the first time since I've been out of the elder's grasp, I allow myself to look in the mirror and let out a shocked chuckle. I look like shit. My cheekbones are sharp, my ribs nearly pressing through my shirt. My hair is tangled and dry at the ends. A black half-moon fades to purple under my eye and when I take my shirt off, the white scar under my shoulder blade shines under the intense bathroom lighting. I shake my head and peel my eyes away from the mirror but as I step into Sophie's shower, my chest swells with emotion. I have to clamp a bony hand over my mouth to keep myself from crying too loud. Everything from the last few weeks runs through my head as my fingertips trace the scar on my shoulder and then the one under my kneecap.

The memories are so vivid I can feel them and then it hits me. This isn't real. Leah's manipulating my mind. She's inside my head again, making all this up. Sophie's not real. They wanted a reason to execute me and now they have it. They have proof I'd join the rebellion if given the chance.

"You okay in there, girlie?" Sophie shouts over the water but I don't respond. It's not Sophie. It's Leah. Her red eyes flash in my head, close and narrowed. I'm not sure what happens after the frosted glass door swings open. "Gwen?" I want to fight back but I know it'll only make things worse so instead I cower in the corner of the shower, covering my body as the water streams against my back and Sophie looks down at me, her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "What's going on, Gwen?"