Otherworld

A Sneak Peek

A Sneak Peek

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What was I supposed to do?

I wasn't normal. I wasn't the type of person who "dated" or "watched movies". Fuck, not even my fighting style was normal, so how the fuck was I supposed to know what to do in a situation like this?

I was defective. It was a constant reminder originally beat into me by the Mother. Literally. Something could go horribly wrong and my attempts to make it better could only make it worse. It happened before and it could happen again and for some reason, now it was scarier. The idea of fucking up, the idea of hurting other people, especially him.

And yet... there was a deep hunger inside me. It surprised me. I'd never felt something like this before. It was a gnawing ache to reach out, to let him hold me, to let him love me. It ached for some kind of touch, some kind of affection, something different than what I was used to. I wanted to feel gentle caresses, hear sweet nothings, smell his scent on my skin. I never thought I'd want something so desperately. It was almost comparable to hunger the way my fingers twitched whenever he was near.

And frankly, I blamed my... guardians, for this feeling. Because it was their fault for taking my hand and taking me away from the Mother and her experiments. They took my hand, they took Thirteen's, and they brought us into this whole new world of love and family and dreams. It was surreal, it was confusing, it was... scary. Why couldn't they just take Thirteen and leave me behind?

My genetics, I reminded myself bitterly.

Because my genetics belonged to them, and they saw me as their child, but I wasn't a child.

I didn't belong to anyone.

I was just... a number. A defective number, to boot.

So why had they even bothered with me?

Part of me wasn't convinced they even wanted me around. In fact, I was positive the King didn't want me anywhere near him. He eyed me like he didn't trust me, even around Thirteen. And while he wasn't particularly receptive to Thirteen either, he was less likely to approach me, less likely to even speak to me. He cut me a wide path in the halls, barely said more than a word, and while his husband assured me it was simply the way he was around new people, I wasn't convinced.

I'd seen him with his subjects, with his guards, even with those he clearly didn't like, and he still spoke to them, paid more attention to them, than he did me. I was mostly just a spider in the room he wanted to keep an eye on, but not interact with.

He didn't want me.

And his husband... The angel was confusing. That was where the affection came in. He reached for my hand often, stroked my hair, cradled my face, wiped away Thirteen's tears. He was loving and caring and honest and true and it made me so horribly uncomfortable because I was unaccustomed to that. So why the hell did someone like him want someone like me around?

I felt like I was thinking around in circles, like I could run around all day and find no end to this ball of confusion and frustration.

In the end, I kept asking the same goddamn question... What was I supposed to do?

"Maybe you should go out today," the angel suggested, snapping me out of my staring contest with the beans on my plate. I blinked and looked up, watching Akin smile at me warmly from across the table. He was like a ray of sunshine when he did that. It was almost too difficult to look at him.

"And do what?" I asked flatly. I felt a spark of anger in the air and followed it across the kitchen to where the King stood at the stove, flipping a pancake. At his side, barely reaching his waist, was Thirteen, who clapped excitedly, completely unaware of the situation.