“Anything,” I rasp out, my voice hoarse as I desperately ignore the pulse between my thighs and how much I want to throw myself at him to find out if what he says is true.
* * *
“No!” I gasp with a laugh, falling into him.
He catches me with a chuckle of his own. “It’s true—I had no idea. I was just running around naked like a wild animal, trying to catch the pig, until the elders found us and told me it was a joke.”
I laugh harder, tears filling my eyes as my sides ache. He has told me story after story about his people, about him, and it only endears him to me more. It reminds me of the glimpses of humanity I still see every now and again—family, love, companionship, joy, and laughter. They live their lives so fully, even as we bury our heads and live in anger.
They enjoy every moment, knowing it could be their last. They fear nothing, not even death, only the lack of life. They enjoy the simple pleasures, like hunting, eating, and being together, as well as laughter, music, fighting, and exploring. It’s like they treasure this world and the creatures in it.
They are so completely different than what I was told.
They even have families, though theirs tend to be a whole tribe. The elders look after the hatchlings, as they call them, and raise them. They are taught to fight, to be kind, and to protect their people and the world around them. They don’t just talk, they give back.
Falling to my side, I curl up as I watch him, listening to him speak as he shares tales of his people—people who aren’t monsters.
The smile on my lips never leaves, and the one curling up his mouth is endearing. His hand strokes my leg as if he doesn’t notice he’s doing it. When he finally lapses into silence, he looks down at me and seems to soften.
“Why did you come back?” he asks hesitantly.
“What do you mean?” I question, confused.
He licks his fangs, the first time I’ve ever seen him nervous, as he searches my gaze. “Back over the wall.”
“It’s my job—”
“No, not now. Back then,” he murmurs, swallowing. “After you left through the wall when you were a kid, why did you come back?”
I sit bolt upright, my heart pounding as I stare into his eyes.
Eyes the colour of the sun.
Eyes I remember.
“It was you?” I whisper. “You…you saved me?”
EIGHTEEN
AKUJI
“You saved me?” she demands.
I incline my head. “I was put on patrol on the wall, a job kids are given to show them the truth of our people, when I saw you wander in. I knew I should have told my elders and called for the others, but one look into your eyes, and I couldn’t. You didn’t look around in fear, but in wonder, and when I approached you…you weren’t scared, Aria. You weren’t brutal, a murderer, or vicious. You were just so…bright—bright and happy. I couldn’t do it, so I led you back through the hole you climbed through, thinking I would never see you again. I was just a youngling myself, barely understanding the world and our pasts.”
“I don’t know why I should hate you either,” she whispers, completely shocked and numb. “I know you. I can’t believe this. You saved me then and again now. You came for me.”
“Aria.” I sigh, looking away. “When you came back through, I was simply curious. You had grown up, and so had I, and the childish interest in the people we should hate had changed to something else—interest in you, the woman. I watched you come and go, knowing I should report it every time, but I couldn’t.” I look at her then, letting her see the truth. “I protected you each time, not that you really needed it. I wanted you to see my world, to see we weren’t monsters. That I wasn’t a monster. I couldn’t stand seeing your bright eyes, which I dreamed of every night since I was a youngling, filled with hate and not wonder. I betrayed my people, but I couldn’t stop.”
“Akuji,” she whispers, opening and closing her mouth, but no sound comes out.
“I’m not saying this for any reason other than that you deserve to know. I knew who you were straightaway, but I understand you did not—”
“I tried to push that night away, to pretend it didn’t happen. I wanted to be normal, to fear you all, but I never did. That’s why I came back. I wasn’t scared, and how could I not be scared? I needed the truth, and then I found something past this wall—a sense of healing, a safe space. I convinced myself over the years it was childish dreams and twisted truths that made me conjure you, but it wasn’t. You are real.”
“I’m real,” I confirm, searching her eyes for fear or repulsion, but all I see is wonder.
Just like when we met as children.