15. Zendaya

Chapter 15

Zendaya

" G et out," I snarl.

"Not until you tell me why you're so livid."

"I no want talk to you. I want bathe." I streak into my bathroom and slam the door.

Nevertheless, the Crow swirls underneath the door.

After spinning the faucet, I whirl on him and smack his chest with both palms. "I heal you. Go home." I try to shove him away, but his boots remain firmly planted on the stone.

"Like I said, Príona, I'm not leaving until you enlighten me about this mood you're in, of which I seem to be the cause."

I grip his shirt, sad I cannot shift into a bird for I would love to sprout talons and shred the fabric like he shredded my trust. "You use me, Crow!"

His thick black eyebrows dip over his craggy nose. " You offered to heal me, Daya."

"I no talk about infection. I talk about stay in Shabbe."

His frown deepens.

"You not my sentry. Queen no employ you! She say to me this."

He dips his chin. "This is what angers you? That I appointed myself as your guard?"

"No, Cathal. What anger me is—is…" I side-eye the steam rising from the golden tub. It must engulf my lids, because they burn.

"Is what, Daya?"

"Is you hide true reason why you stay!"

"How exactly was I supposed to tell you when Priya refuses that we speak about your past?"

" My past?"

He cants his head. "Daya, what reason do you think I have for staying in Shabbe?"

"Your mate."

His neck snaps straight. "I don't have a mate. Not anymore."

This time, I'm the one who frowns. "Fallon say Crows mate forever."

"That's usually the case…yes."

"But you and Meriam not mate anymore?"

His head rears back. "Meriam?"

"I hear Taytah say child is mate."

"Oh, Daya." His lids slip shut.

"What, oh, Daya ?" Did I misunderstand something? Is he trying to fool me again?

He lowers his face, burying his lips and nose into my hair as though his head were too heavy for his shoulders and he has to rest it on mine.

I don't push him away. Merely repeat, "What, oh, Daya ?"

"Meriam was never my mate, Príona."

"But Taytah say?—"

"Her daughter was."

I roll my head, dislodging his in order to look at him. "Meriam have daughter?"

His wary eyes open and lock on mine. "Yes."

"Where?" I swallow, my throat as parched as the Amkhuti. "Where is daughter?"

"Dead. Meriam slayed her."

I blink hard. "That why prison?"

"No. She did other bad things."

"She kill mate, Cathal. What worse?"

He tips me the saddest, most forlorn smile.

"I sorry I shout."

"You had every right to shout at me. I deceived you by keeping quiet about my reasons for remaining in Shabbe."

I release his shirt and ball my fingers at my sides. "You stay to kill Meriam?"

He runs his thumb up my cheekbone, lingering at its apex where Crows wear an inked feather. "Take your bath."

I frown and am about to tell him that my bath can wait, that I'd prefer to discuss his intentions, but the male fades to smoke and withdraws beneath my door. Why is he always there when I don't want him to be, yet leaves when I want him to stay?

I sigh as I knead the skin over my heart to ease the harsh beats beneath, but instead, the press of my fingers seems to make my heart leaven with more pain.

Pain for Cathal and his impossible loss, and pain for Priya who had to imprison her own daughter.

Neither steeping in warm water, nor scrubbing scented oil into my skin manages to dislodge any of it. When I emerge from my bathing chamber, I expect— hope —to set eyes on the Crow, but his face isn't the one I see.