Chapter Twenty-two
As the silver and glass door closed behind Sylvan, Sophie finally shook free of the dream. Bolting upright, she nearly fell out of her bed and stumbled into the adjoining bathroom.
She barely got the toilet seat up in time before she started retching. Nothing came up—she hadn’t had anything since the mint tea Sylvan had given her the night before. But still she couldn’t stop gagging.
God it was too much— too much. Seeing the face of her attacker after all these years brought back the attack itself—ripped open the old wound and made her pain fresh and new. She heard Sylvan’s deep voice in her head. “Raped…raped and brutalized.”
I don’t want to think about it! I just want to forget, she thought frantically but she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop reliving that horrible night. Couldn’t stop seeing what Sylvan had done to avenge her.
Over and over she saw the slick, red scar where Burke’s shaft had been. Over and over she heard the sickening snap and saw the bloody, jagged bones tear through his skin.
“No…no! Stop it. Make it stop,” she moaned, pressing her hands over her ears. No matter what she did, Burke’s screams still echoed in her mind, mixing with her own muffled cries the night of the rape.
“ Hold still, you little bitch. You know you want it. You know you love it.”
Sophie balled her hands into fists and pressed them against her eyes, trying to push away the memories. Her mind felt brittle—like it might snap at any minute. Snap the way Burke’s bones had snapped…
“Sophia? Are you all right?”
She looked up to see a huge dark figure looming over her.
“No!” She scrambled to get away. “No, please—leave me alone!”
“It’s all right.” The man reached for her and she shrank from his touch. “All right,” he repeated. “You just had a bad dream.”
A dream. Just a dream. Her fragile mind latched on to the idea like a drowning man grasping a life preserver. That’s right, it was just a dream. Sylvan didn’t really go down there and do all that. And everything that happened with Burke is all in the past. I should let it go—bury it again.
But it was still so sharp…so fresh. After years of pushing it down and trying to forget it, the night of her attack was once more vivid in her mind’s eye. Sophie didn’t know why her bad dream had brought it back in such detail. Seeing Burke’s face again must have triggered it. Whatever had caused it, she just wanted it to stop. Wanted to not think about it ever again…
“Baird? Sophia? What’s going on?”
Sylvan’s deep voice echoed in the small tiled bathroom and Sophie looked up hopefully. Sylvan’s here. He’ll make everything all right.
“Are you all right?” Sylvan shouldered Baird aside and knelt beside Sophie. “Why are you crouched on the floor like that?”
“I heard her crying and moaning,” Baird said. “I came in here to find out what was wrong but she didn’t seem to recognize me.”
“Sophia?” Sylvan reached for her, his blue eyes concerned. “Come here.”
Sophie wanted to go to him. More than anything else she wanted the feeling of those strong arms wrapped around her and the warm press of his body against hers.
But as she reached for him she saw it…three crimson spots like freckles across one of his high cheekbones. Only they weren’t freckles. They were…
“Blood!” She pushed away from him abruptly. “It wasn’t a dream. You really did it! You really broke his arm.”
Sylvan frowned. “I had to—he hurt you. But how did you know?”
“Dream sharing,” Baird said from behind them. “Sophia was sleeping when you left to do your ‘errand.’ She must have seen the whole thing.” His voice dropped. “Brother, what did you do?”
“Only what any male would do for the woman he loves,” Sylvan protested. He reached for Sophie again. “Please, Sophia…”
“No.” She shrank away from him. “Please, just…just don’t touch me.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head. “I want to see Liv and Kat. Can’t we go now?”
“We can leave as soon as you’re ready,” Baird said soothingly. He put a hand on Sylvan’s shoulder. “Come, Brother. Let’s give Sophia a little space.”
“But…” There was anguish in Sylvan’s eyes. A yearning so deep it would have filled Sophie with pity if she’d been able to see it. But at the moment she was blind to anything but the past.
I just want to go home, she thought as hot tears filled her eyes. Just want to go back to the time before any of this ever happened. Before Burke hurt me. Back to when Mom and Dad were still alive and Liv and Kat and I were still in school. Back when everything felt safe.
Curling into a ball, she pressed her cheek to the cold tile floor and wept.
* * * * *
Sylvan felt like his heart was being torn to shreds by an animal with very sharp teeth. The look on Sophia’s face when she’d seen the blood on his cheek, the fear in her eyes when he reached for her…
“It’s worse,” he said aloud, rubbing a hand over his face. “Worse than it was before. I tried to avenge her and instead I traumatized her.”
“Sylvan…” Baird put a hand on his shoulder but Sylvan shrugged it off angrily and began to pace. There wasn’t much room for it in the small hallway that led from the bathroom to the bedrooms but he did his best.
“I wanted to kill him for what he did to her. But I didn’t, Baird—I didn’t. That has to count for something.”
“Of course it does,” Baird said soothingly. “Sophia’s just upset right now. Seeing what you did must have brought back her past. I, ah…” He cleared his throat. “Assume she was attacked in some way?”
“Yes,” Sylvan said briefly, still pacing. “Gods, I should have left him alone. But I couldn’t…I couldn’t. Not after what he did to her.” He looked up at his brother. “Can you understand that?”
“I would feel the same way if Olivia was attacked,” Baird said quietly. “I would seek out her attacker and make him pay. Any warrior would.”
“I didn’t know she was watching. Didn’t know it would affect her this way.” Sylvan ran both hands through his hair. “And now I’ve ruined everything. Everything. Sophia will hate me forever.”
“Let me show you something.” Baird caught him by the arm and stopped his frantic pacing.
“What?” Reluctantly, Sylvan allowed himself to be dragged down the hallway to the far bedroom. “What is it?”
“This.” Baird threw open the door to the room and pulled Sylvan in.
“What?” Sylvan asked again.
“Look,” Baird said quietly. “Just look.”
Taking a deep breath, Sylvan forced himself to do as his half brother asked. The room had one long window with no shades on it. Sunshine poured through it in a brilliant flood. There was no furniture anywhere—just an artist’s easel in the center of the room. Finished and half-finished canvases were stacked against the walls.
“Paintings,” Sylvan said, frowning. “Yes, Sophia’s an artist. She told me so.”
“Look,” Baird said again. “All these paintings are of you, Brother.”
Sylvan looked around in wonder. It was true—from every painting and canvas, he saw a piece of himself. Ice blue eyes, blond hair, stern mouth… Does she really see me this way? “She told me she had painted me,” he said aloud, still looking. “And I saw it in a dream, too. I just didn’t know she’d done so many.”
“There’s enough to fill a museum in here.” Baird sounded amused. “The Sylvan Vii museum of fine art. We could sell tickets.”
“Very funny,” Sylvan said sourly. “I don’t see your point.”
“The point is that the female who painted these pictures, cares for you,” Baird said earnestly. “Cares very much, I believe. And I can see you care for her as well. Just give her time to collect herself and tell her so, Sylvan. Apologize for frightening her and declare your love. Then when you get back to the ship, go to the sacred grove and ask to be released of your vow.”
“I’m going to the sacred grove, all right,” Sylvan said grimly. “But it won’t be to renounce my vow.” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to ask for a cleansing.”
Baird uttered a surprised curse. “A cleansing? You’ll willingly let a priestess dig around inside your skull just to be rid of some unwanted emotions? You know how much that’s going to hurt?”
“I know how painful it is,” Sylvan said stoically. “I had it done once before after we left Tranq Prime, remember? But I can’t help it, Baird. These feelings I have for Sophia—I can’t have them anymore. They’re eating me alive.”
“Well, at least you admit you have a problem,” Baird said. “But I would urge you to reconsider, Brother. A cleansing is so—”
“Excuse me.” Sophia’s soft voice cut him off and both brothers turned to face her.
“Sophia?” Sylvan asked tentatively. She was standing in the doorway looking fragile and pale. Clearly she’d washed her face but her eyes were still red…still haunted. Gods, how he wished he could wipe that look of sorrow and pain from her lovely face. But he didn’t even dare to go to her.
“I’m ready,” Sophia said quietly, looking at him. “Ready to fly back to the Mother ship. Please, can we get going?”
“Of course.” Baird nodded. “We’ll go at once.”
“Thank you. I’ll wait in the living room.”
Sylvan opened his mouth to speak her name again but she was already gone, slipping out the door as silently as a wraith.