TIP: To say Orias, just take the name Tobias, but replace the "Tob" with "Or"

Neither I nor Ziko slept on the plane, too engrossed in the small luxuries, one including the unlimited selection of in demand movies. I couldn't remember the last time I'd watched something that wasn't for children. And my current pick, Fifty Shades of Grey, was undoubtedly not for those virtuous, pure minds. I'd angled the screen wisely, leaving no chance for Ziko to see what exactly I'd chosen over his innocent recommendation.

So far, there was no reason for me to regret the decision. A smile tugged at my lips as the intense music had died down, enough to balance out the tender moment.

But it wasn't long before I forcefully returned my face to the rock hard mask I sought out when in the presence of strangers. The precise positions of my features communicated one statement, loud and clear: do not mess with me. It had become a comfort, the way newcomers would turn away from me, the way males would turn away from the otherworldly beauty granted to me after the Sacrament. That same beauty I found no use for now.

A fake barfing noise penetrating through to my ears, heckling, more than I'd like to admit. I adjusted my headphones, the sound still noticeable, even with the thick material. Then, a warm arm pressed against mine. My brows rose as I turned my head, taking in the way Ziko's eyes were fixed on my screen where the two characters were wrapped in a passionate embrace. I instantly splayed a hand outward, covering the image, though it was of no inappropriateness, both characters dressed from head to toe.

"Ziko!"

He straightened back into his seat, eyes wide, knowing he'd been caught.

"I just saw a little, I swear!" he exclaimed, his Ls and Rs sounding like Ws.

I groaned in response, not taking my hand off of the screen, before switching it off, recognizing that I could no longer continue without feeling paranoid.

I'd ceased checking the map every few minutes. To my amazement, time had gone by faster afterwards. Sooner than I'd thought, an announcement blared through the system, informing passengers of landing procedures.

In response, I snuck a peek to the male sitting to my right. He was still fast asleep, chest moving in a steady rhythm, face set in a tranquil expression. My eyes roamed over his tousled auburn hair, captivating features, reviving the image of him in my mind. We hadn't spoken a word beyond that first conversation. The awkwardness still remained, more from my side than anything. I couldn't freely trust a man this fast, if even at all; it was impossible.

My gaze shifted to the window a foot away from his head, and I watched as we were steered towards the airport, the plane shaking violently at every bump. And even with the bothersome movements, our guide had not awaken.

"Lick his ear," Ziko whispered feverishly when he noticed me eyeing the sleeping human male.

"No," my reply was instant. I shuddered, imagining the outcome. "Hey," I whispered instead, tapping his knee with one finger. My pathetic attempt did nothing to rouse him.

Ziko grumbled at my dawdling before gently shaking our companion awake.

His eyes, a warm hue of golden bronze, fell on me...then closed again. He leaned forward, sluggishly rubbing a hand across his face. Exhaustion marred his every move, especially as he stood with a groan, quickly stepping into the aisle. His muscles rippled, lifting our bags onto the ground, handing Ziko his small backpack before giving me a quick once over. I grabbed the handle he held out to me, careful not to make contact.

"Good to go?" his voice was hoarse, face drooping from lack of sleep. I nodded, taking Ziko's hand.

It was a long walk out, but, thankfully, short ride to our place.

"This isn't a hotel," I stated as we entered through the large, oak doors, ornate with intricate carvings of faraway lands.

The flashy color hit me first. Gold. A dazzling gold accented every wall I looked upon, luxury seeping from the exquisite seating arrangements and decor. Lavishly dressed humans meandered by, their chins raised to the skies.

"Rental apartments," our accompaniment replied before proceeding to the desk, a polished charcoal with dainty flowers painted on.

"Wow," Ziko whispered.

I wholeheartedly agreed, though the refined opulence of the area forcibly evoked a restless feeling from within. I rubbed my arm, staring the beautiful clerk down, as if her previous dirty looks to me would prove of a superior mentality.

"Floor 5," the male returned, slipping a black key into his right pocket.

Ziko and I followed his lead, down into yet another well decorated hallway. Further down, a series of elevators stood, steel shining a blinding bronze as we came closer.

"I'm sleepy," Ziko broke the silence, resting his head on my leg.

"I know, buddy. We're almost there," I replied tenderly, but still bent down to pick him up, letting go of our bags for one moment. I blindly reached back to gain ahold of them again, when a deep voice stopped me short.

"I got 'em." I turned to find his striking russet eyes focused on me. His gaze seared through me...and then slid to Ziko. Instinctively, I clutched him closer to my chest, the heat of his body further seeping into mine. Muscles tensed, I moved forward as the doors slid open with a faint ring.

The elevator music was soothing, but not enough to destroy the uneasiness. He'd caught the impulsive move, caught that I did not have faith in the man my Father trustingly hired as our bodyguard. I made a point not to look at the mirrors surrounding us, the risk of making eye contact too great. I squeezed my eyes shut- at the pathetic woman I now found myself to be. At the way skepticism and violence had become deeply, innately branded in my blood.

Jack- Jack had laughed at me- at the person who had come out after the Remembrance. Even more after the Sacrament. I was different, he'd said. Not in a way that he particularly approved.

"You were carefree once, the future not of too much importance. You lived in the moment. Passion fueled your choices. You didn't need a man, they were all falling at your feet, vying for even a mere second of your attention. You loved it. You loved the thrills of life. And now?" he'd thrown the words at me, in all their raw, unfiltered honesty.

But who he'd described was a vain, inconsiderate, shallow, a weak female with no backbone.

"And now...you brood all day. You stay away from anything that makes you feel. You've become a coward off the battlefield."

I'd snarled at him, pushed him away again. And that was the moment that he'd stopped. It was also the moment that I realized who I was now, was a million times more despicable.

But that day four years ago, something had changed. My recollection of thoughts were undermined. They'd taken from me what would serve as a vulnerability, hindering my capabilities as a Phantom. It was all a blur, including the mysterious circumstances surrounding the trade of my life for Malodza's skills.

Certain people, events, Father had expertly picked through and removed. It was an invasion of everything I thought I would never have to forcefully share with anyone else, to give up to anyone else.

And it had taken something vital. Something almost human in me.

"Rock."

My head snapped up to find the human patiently holding the elevator doors open for me. I muttered an apology under my breath before following him out. He'd fished the key out of his pocket, and was already on his way to open the door. I glanced around, looking upon the small, well decorated space that lay before us, including another grand door leading to where I assumed was our rented place.

A soft click met my ears; I looked up, the door agape. I moved forward and through the open threshold, eyes adjusting to the radiant sunlight flowing in. I loosened a tight breath as the colors hit me at once. Beige, silver, cream, soothing and sophisticated.

And then I took in everything else.

"Holy fu-" I stopped short, glancing down at the child in my arms.

I didn't have much else to say, the place speaking for itself.

"Yeah. Your Father's a wealthy man," he said, but didn't seem to be left awestruck the way I was. I watched him for a moment, at the way his eyes flitted over the place, never lingering, looking for something. His gaze stopped at the door- the one closed door. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, blowing out a long breath.

"I'll take the couch." was all he said before slumping down onto the cushion, an arm over his eyes, covering himself from the bright, natural lights drifting into the spacious living room.

I looked away, back at the modern suite I would be staying in for the next few weeks. The avant-garde furniture drew my attention first; it was unlike I'd ever seen before, odd yet classy. An array of plastic, wood, and metal created unique forms of seating. And the walls, painted a glowing beige, delicately complemented the scuffed, silvery wood flooring. A large canvas of a dark city night hung on the left, accented with drops of gold. Adjacent to that, a large television hung, no other embellishments around, an obvious use of the minimalistic approach.

I turned to the wall to my right, consisting of three large, glass sliding doors. I went closer, surveying the lock which would allow me to step onto the balcony, to look down upon the gracious view offered below. Instead, I quietly pulled the curtains close, bathing the bounteous space in shadows before cautiously walking towards the one room in the place.

I sent a silent prayer to whomever was listening. A silent prayer that, to a foreigner's ears, would sound deranged, trivial. Nonetheless, I closed my eyes and entered the room, softly shutting the door behind me.

With a pathetic, slow cowardliness, I slid my lids open.

Blue.

A soft, cerulean blue surrounded me.

I breathed in a ragged breath of relief. Relief that the memories would not resurface, that I would no longer need to think of an explanation as to why I refused to sleep in this room.

I walked forward, burying my feet in the plush, creamy rug beneath my feet. In my peripheral vision, a deathly ivory color became known. Inch by inch, I lowered my head.

I stared. I stared and stared, frozen.

Ashen, white. The color of narrowed, perilous rooms. Of clothes wrapped around oneself after the whisper of death had ended its marking. Of bones having torn through skin and muscle, their alabaster hue abnormally revolting.

I squeezed my eyes shut, sliding Ziko onto the bed before dropping to my knees. Frantically, I rolled up the rug that had only seconds ago been beneath my feet. I didn't open my eyes again until it was stuffed beneath the bed.

Coward, coward, coward. That voice in my mind, it was hideous, painful.

Face it. But I was too afraid.

Still on the floor, I leaned my face into the side of the soft bed, allowing the blue sheets to absorb my tears.

Broken. I was so broken.

And this- this was the reason why I hadn't left the comfort of my home, of Malodza's familiarity.

Because this- me- was beyond repair.

And I knew it the moment I'd come out of the Sacrament alive.

I spent two weeks on this chapter...hope y'all love it. Now I'll go bang my head on a wall until I can get some more writing in :)))))

Also, if you have a minute to spare, I'd be honored if you could go to The Fiction Awards and vote for Alpha's Bargain under the Werewolf category!!! SOOO much love 💙