Three winters ago, I had blocked an attack meant for him. A blade had gone straight through my arm. I almost died that day.
He looked at the scar. There was no care in his eyes.
Only annoyance.
"Do you show this scar every day to remind me I owe you?"
"Marisel is sensitive. She saw it earlier and was frightened. She could not even eat after that."
"From tomorrow, you will wear long sleeves inside this house. If you cannot do that, then go stay at the gatehouse outside. Don’t appear in front of her."
Every word was cold and cutting. He was trying to provoke me. Waiting for me to break, to argue or beg.
But I felt nothing.
I pulled my hand free and picked up my bag.
"Alright. I will move to the gatehouse now."
I stepped past him and walked toward the door.
Damon lost control. My calmness only made him angrier.
He chased after me, grabbed the bag from my hand, and threw open the front door.
Cold wind and snow rushed inside. He threw my bag into the snow outside and pointed into the storm.
"Rayya, since you like acting like this, then leave! Don’t come back!"
"I want to see how long someone like you survives out there without me!"
I stood at the door in a thin sweater. The cold wind cut against my skin.
I looked at my bag lying in the snow. Without hesitation, I stepped outside.
One step. Then another. I walked into the storm. I didn’t look back.
Behind me, the door slammed shut. The sound echoed through the night.
I bent down, picked up my bag, and brushed off the snow.
My crystal communicator lit up. It was a call from my brother.
"Rayya, the Wolfhart convoy has entered Ravencrest. I will reach you in half an hour. I am taking you home."
