Chapter 33: Fuck You Freya
Gwen's hand slid under my arm and pulled. "Come on, up you get," she said, her voice somewhere between concern and impatience.
I didn't say a damn thing at first. My eyes scanned the guild hall, all those stares still drilling into me like I was some monster they'd just unmasked. No words, no explanation, just me pushing myself up to my feet and walking.
Straight toward the double doors.
Past the tables, past the whispering voices, ignoring every stare.
I stepped outside into the city streets and turned left without looking back. My stride quickened, almost a run, until I slipped into a narrow alley wedged between two buildings. The sun was still hanging above the horizon, maybe two hours from setting, painting the stone walls gold.
The second my boots hit the halfway point, I let it out, a roar tearing from my throat, bouncing off the walls.
It wasn't enough.
My fist nearly slammed into the wall beside me.
Then I saw it again.
The counter.
81 hours, 25 minutes, and 37 seconds. 36… 35…
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" The words ripped out of me, echoing in the alley.
Still the fucking mission.
Still the goddamn ticking clock.
"Fuck… fuck…" I spat again, my voice low and tight.
"Kaizen. Talk to me."
The voice was close. I spun around. Gwen was there, standing in the mouth of the alley like she'd been there the whole time. I hadn't even noticed her follow me.
"For the past four weeks, I've seen you come and go from the guild," she said, stepping closer. "You keep to yourself, only talk to me. The Iron Fangs said you helped those girls from the goblins, so I know you're not a bad guy. I just… need to hear your side."
I stared at her, the street noise behind her sounding a world away.
Gwendeline Greenwood.
Daughter of a pig farmer. Second oldest of four kids. Twenty years old. She'd told me once she had this dream of becoming an inventor, but life had stuck her here until she could save enough for the equipment she needed. The guild job was just a means to an end.
And what did she know about me?
Some bullshit about being from a secluded village no one had ever heard of. A survivor of some plague that wiped everyone else out. Lies. All lies.
I wasn't about to hand her the truth, not about the Ki, not about Earth, not about the damn system breathing down my neck.
But… maybe I could tell her part of it.
"It's a long story," I said finally.
She didn't flinch. Instead, she stepped closer, her fingers brushing against mine before she took my hand.
"If you tell me," she said, voice low, "we might discuss that thing you wanted."
The corner of my mouth twitched. She knew exactly what I wanted.
So I told her. Not everything, but enough, the goblins, the cave, the fight, the Chief. How it spiraled from there.
By the time I was done, the alley was quiet again. Just the faint hum of the city beyond, the warmth of her hand still in mine, and the clock ticking down somewhere in the corner of my vision.
We stood there in silence.
Gwen didn't let go of my hand. Her eyes searched mine for a moment before she nodded slowly.
"I get it," she said. "Helping those girls… that wasn't some hero's duty. You were just trying to survive. And you barely managed to kill that Goblin Chief at all, you said it yourself, if it wasn't for that other prisoner's distraction, you'd be dead too."
I didn't say the name. No way in hell I was getting tangled with the nobles. Rorden's last word, Okutake, was warning enough. That family wasn't just rich, they were power incarnate. From what I'd read on my second day in Torak, they were the most powerful noble house in the kingdom, second only to the royal Detalia family. Mess with them and you might as well dig your own grave.
Gwen squeezed my hand. "And not helping the Iron Fangs when Ronta Vro was attacked?" She shook her head. "That doesn't make you a coward. At your level, you wouldn't have survived an invasion like that. I don't blame you, and I don't think any less of you."
A grin tugged at my lips. "I think you might actually like me now."
Her lips curved, the tiniest smirk playing there. She didn't confirm it… but she didn't deny it either.
I stepped a little closer. "You know," I said, lowering my voice, "I've made it pretty clear what I want."
She tilted her head, pretending to think. "Hmm. Something about… a drink?"
I shook my head. "Nope. You know damn well I'm talking about fucking you."
Her cheeks flushed, not with embarrassment, but that kind of spark you get when someone says exactly what you were thinking. "Bold."
"You like bold."
"Maybe."
We were closer now. My hand slid to her waist, fingers resting just above her hip. She didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned in ever so slightly. I could feel her breath on my skin, slow and warm.
I tilted my head, closing the gap an inch at a time. My other hand moved up her back, feeling the curve of her spine through her clothes. Her hands found my sides, fingertips gripping lightly as if she was testing how far she could go.
The air between us was warm, electric. Her lips were so close now that if I moved a fraction forward, they'd touch.
Her breath hitched. Mine did too.
And then…
"Before you two fuck like a couple of rabbits, I have some more questions," a voice cut in.
We both turned, still close enough that my hand was at Gwen's waist. Freya stood a few paces away, arms crossed, her expression unreadable, though the faint lift of her eyebrow told me she'd been standing there a while.
"You were there the whole time?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
She ignored the question. "Just earlier today, you were telling me you wanted to fuck me. But here you are, already with Gwen."
"Fuck you, Freya," I shot back without thinking.
"Well, whoever fucks me, it won't be you, that's for damn sure," she snapped.
My jaw clenched as I took a step toward her. Gwen's hands slid from my sides to wrap around my waist, stepping in front of me like a human barrier.
"Freya, what do you want?" Gwen's voice was sharp. "Obviously, you've been listening in on our conversation."
"Yes," Freya said simply, her gaze flicking to me. "That other prisoner you mentioned, the one who helped you defeat the Goblin Chief, did he give you his name? Was he a noble-looking man, tall, with spiky blond hair? Was his name… Rorden?"
The words hung in the alley like a blade suspended in midair.