You and I are mates.

Mates.

Inayah lay awake on the bed, wide eyed and staring at the ceiling above in mute contemplation. Lycus’ words had left a sudden dryness to her mouth, and her heart had not ceased its nervous beating throughout the night. 

The past two days had gone by rather calmly, and he seemed -unlike her- quite at ease despite confessing his never ending feelings and utmost loyalty to her. 

I belong to you. 

No one had ever spoken such words to her, an oath that seemed to bind one person to another. He barely knew her, and yet there he stood with honesty dripping from his tone, claiming to be her everything if she would let him. 

She flipped onto her side, tucking a hand beneath the pillow. 

No, that would be wrong. What would Salem do if he found out? 

Doesn’t Lycus fear him?

His own audacious confidence scared her to no end. Inayah turned over onto her side and stared at the burning fire hearth. Her attention zoned in on his backpack and something clicked in her mind -- what if she found something that would explain his actions or who he was?

Her gaze slid to the front door, shut. 

Lycus had left sometime in the early evenings, possibly to hunt if she had to guess. 

Pushing the blankets aside, Inayah began to rise with a soft his. Her side ached dully as she made her way across the room and towards the bag. It was slightly heavy to lift so she settled on sitting cross legged before it. Her hand skimmed over the tough leather material before gripping the zipper and carefully pulling it open. 

Inayah’s eyes fell on the set of clothes folded neatly above each other. She bgane to take them out one at a time, setting them by her side before her fingers brushed something hard at the bottom. 

A book.

Carefully removing it from inside, she lifted the cover to the firelight and turned it over slowly, scrutinizing the blank cover. “Huh,” glancing over her shoulder cautiously, she turned back and flipped the page open. 

Not that she knew how to read and write, Salem’s lessons hardly surpassed three days when she gave up and simply chose to stare at the ink scrawlings, feigning studious attention. 

The pages had been filled with numerous ink writings and few drawings at the end. Neither of which she could understand. Inayah flipped the pages then sniffed at the old paper before shutting it and placing it above the pile of clothes. She dipped her hand back inside, randomly patting around for more items. 

“There’s a famous saying,” Lycus’ words startled her out of her brief reverie and she whirled around sharply, clutching at her aching side. He stood by the partially gaping door, twirling a dagger in hand while leaning on the frame. His gaze lingered the subtle edge before rising to her, “I’m sure you’ve heard of it… curiosity killed the cat.” He finished.

Inayah studied his expression for a lingering moment before grinning, “And satisfaction brought it back.”

He lingered a moment by the door, the howl of hail and snow beating against his back, billowing the tail of his coat. Lycus pushed off the door and stepped inside, quietly shutting it. He shrugged off his coat, thumps of snow falling to the floor. 

“How do you feel?”

Inayah blinked and carefully rubbed her side, “Better,” she agreed then turned back to the bag, “won’t you ask me why I’m searching through your stuff?”

Lycus shot her an indifferent look, then threw himself on the bed, stretching his long large limbs like a cat as the shirt he wore rose up exposing V lines against his hips. He rolled onto his side and propped a hand onto his cheek, “If you insist.” he smiled indulgently, “tell me, mate, why are you searching through my stuff like a nosy pig?” 

Inayah’s mouth dropped at the term. She blinked thoroughly as a shadow of red wrapped fingers of heat around her face, her mouth shut, eye twitching indignantly, “I’m not a pig… dog.” 

Lycus snorted. “Your appetite says otherwise.”

“I’m growing.” She countered, huffing out a breath that billowed the loose strand that fell over her forehead, “And besides, I never ate much back at the manor.”

A certain silence followed her confession, long enough to have her peeking over her shoulder at him. Lycus was staring at the fire place with a darkened expression, a shutter had fallen over his once playful smile tightening the corners. Pressure rose in his mouth, flexing a minute muscle in his cheek. It seemed the topic of his brothers and her treatment was a constant sore subject that inevitably ruined his mood. 

As much as Inayah tried not to bring it up, sometimes it simply slipped past her lips. That, and she wondered why he was so bitter about them.

Lycus cracked a knuckle absent-mindedly, “I should behead Salem for the way he treated you.” 

Inayah cleared her throat awkwardly, her own gaze straying to the fire which cast a glow of orange across her face, “Aren’t your brothers?” 

“We are.”

“Then why hold such malice towards each other?” She remembered Kade’s own rage when Salem cast him outside the mansion. Salem’s bitterness that aged his face whilst thinking of his brother. The enmity among them was so great it perturbed Inayah. 

How can brothers hate each other so passionately?

“Do not get me wrong, Inayah,” Lycus’ eyes tore from the flames and found hers, “blood does not necessarily make people family.” A moment passed between them as his gaze studied her face, “and they hurt you.” 

“Well-”

Lycus raised a palm, “Salem whipped and raped you, Kade took you to a bar where you may have been injured… if that does not warrant death punishment then may the gods strike me down.” 

Inayah watched his impassioned stare, chiseled lips that curled in disdain at the thought of his brothers, eyes that burned so intensely she felt them scorch her skin. Yet, that did not stop the twitching of her mouth as she began to smile widely.

Evidently, it caught Lycus off guard and his eyebrows furrowed at the center. “Why are you smiling?”

“I’m not,” Inayah smiled and he arched a sardonic eyebrow. She pursed her lips to refrain from smiling, “I’m not.” she insisted.

Lycus hummed.

Raising both hands, she pressed down on her cheeks, “There,” her words were muffled, “see?”

They watched each other for a drawn moment and her hands began to lower as the strain of fighting of a smile waned. Inayah studied her rough, calloused palms formed from years of servitude. 

“It’s just different,” she explained mildly, “To have someone be angry on your behalf.” Placing words to her emotions had often been so difficult, yet as she sat in Lycus’s presence, seeing his anger towards his brothers -- it reminded her of her own emotions.

Inayah had been cast in a sea of fear after Salem bought her. Oftentimes afraid for her own life and living in constant adrenaline, she smothered her own true feeling of rage towards the man that stole her freedom. At Kade for deceiving her and stealing her even when Cotton saved her. 

They treated her like nothing until they saw her as something. 

A burning sensation spread behind her eyes. Inayah clenched her hands and unclenched them before raising her eyes to his; 

Thank you.