Word Count: 1871
~Kiva
I nestle further into the corner of the cabin, feeling the jolts and bumps as we move along.
I'm out of the rebellion compound, which is a miracle. Ark rose me before sunrise, telling me he wanted me to accompany him to an undisclosed location. I didn't protest because being out of that prison based place means a chance to escape.
"I can't believe this," I mumble, staring out the window.
The cold frost I know so well in my Territory has melted away with the hours we have been travelling. We have ventured into new lands, where the trees are sparser and the fields stretch for miles.
"I figured you would feel safer with me than alone in that compound," he notes, speaking to me for the first time since we left this morning.
A vibrant sunrise has melted away into a moody, cloudy day. Rain threatens to fall the further we go, which is beneficial for me. If I run, my tracks won't last and the visibility will be low.
Since we left I've been storing beneficial information. Not once has my eyes left the road we pass along.
We are far from home. But I'll make it back.
"Safer with you? That's presumptuous." I laugh bitterly under my breath.
With how much I've been concentrating on the outside world, I haven't had to look at Ark. It makes it easier. Studying every turn we make has meant I haven't had to meet those dark, thoughtful eyes that I know are watching me intently.
"Where are we going anyway?"
"I have to deliver something personally to my mother," he tells me.
My eyes widen, sweeping my attention back to him. Mother? I didn't even know Ark had a mother, or any kind of family. Then again, I don't know much about him at all.
"She lives all the way out here?" I ask breathlessly.
From what I know, out here is farming country and some isolated villages. Ark looks solemn, closed off. Coming back here isn't something he enjoys doing, clearly.
And I want to know why.
"I grew up out here. She hasn't moved since..." He breaks, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand.
I raise my brows curiously. "Since?"
He's silent for a moment, staring out the window with furrowed brows. I can't tell if he's not divulging anything because he doesn't trust me, or because saying so is too difficult to bear.
"Come. We have arrived," he mutters.
The transport draws to a halt. Looking out the window, I realise I was too transfixed by my conversation with Ark to notice we had driven down an old dirt road and to a loan house seated in the middle of a paddock.
Ark hops out first, not waiting for me to follow.
When I step out into the grass, I turn around. There is no civilisation within view across the flat plains. If I ran now, Ark would have a clear view of me for miles, and I wouldn't be able to outrun him.
Gritting my teeth, I start off toward Ark, who is already opening the front door to the home.
Am I about to meet Ark's mother?
The house is small and simple. It's evident from the number of furnishings, portraits on the wall and general clutter that this is a well lived in house that has been here for quite a long time.
I follow Ark down the narrow hallway, dodging an old bookshelf in desperate need of a dusting and a pile of boxes filled with things that don't seem to have a home anywhere.
"This was my bedroom," he tells me grimly, motioning into an adjoining room.
I look inside, expecting to see it in a similar state to the rest of the house, but it isn't. It's clean, simple and tidy. Just like Ark.
Upon deeper inspection, it becomes clear this room hasn't been lived in for a long time. There's a neatly stacked pile of books on a small desk tucked near the bed, an old jacket draped on the chair.
"Wow. Your room," I exclaim. "You have been my mate for months now and I never knew what your personal space looked like."
"I don't stay here as often as I would like," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck.
I wander over to the dresser, picking up a portrait of a boy and a girl. I recognise what must be Ark, and beside him, a smaller girl, beaming up at him.
"Whose this?" I ask softly.
He looks over my shoulder. "My sister."
"She's beautiful." I run my finger along the portrait, smiling softly. He didn't mention a sister, but then again, he didn't mention a mother either. She looks a lot like him, with the same dark features and sharp bone structure.
"She was," he says after a long pause.
I turn, looking up at him. "Was?"
"She ran away over a year ago. Don't bring it up to my mother," he warns sternly.
I nod mutely, absorbing that information. By the way he has tensed up, a hurt look blooming in his eyes, it's clear this torments him. I can only imagine the pain he's experienced, being left by someone he obviously cared about very deeply.
"That's so sad. You haven't heard from her?" I ask gently.
"No. And it's not for a lack of trying, trust me," he sighs, staring down at the picture.
I set it down, straightening. I'm allowing myself to be distracted by this tragedy instead of keeping a distance from Ark and finding a way out of here.
"Is her running away what turned you evil?" I ask, setting it back down again on the dresser.
"I've been killing people long before she left," he admits, turning away. "I shouldn't have been so absent. After my father died, I should have stuck around more and looked out for her. Money wasn't enough."
Going silent, I watch him carefully. This may be a purposeful attempt by Ark to let me see another side of him, to gain my trust.
But there is no mistaking the true pain that haunts him.
He tells me to stay in the room, to wait while he deals with something else in the house. I oblige him, curious about where he is going.
Edging toward the door to his bedroom, I peer out into the hallway, watching him disappear into a room at the end.
I glance toward his bedroom window. I could escape now, but where would I go? Even if I sprinted as hard as I could, Ark would likely notice me due to the flat, endlessly long land that surrounds this place.
I may as well be surrounded by a massive lake I can't swim in.
Gritting my teeth, I wander silently down the hallway toward the room. I don't know what Ark is doing, but I want to know. He's brought me to his old family home, and now it seems as though he doesn't want to show me much beyond his bedroom door.
"This should get you through the next few months," I hear Ark say softly.
I tip my head, looking through the gap in the door.
Ark is standing in front of an older woman, handing her a white envelope. She sifts through it, eyes widening a little at what she sees inside.
Is this his mother?
"You don't plan on visiting for a while?" She asks.
Ark shifts. "No. It's happening now."
"Ah. I see." She tucks the envelope in her pocket before grabbing both of Ark's hands, squeezing them tightly. "I wish you the best of luck."
I blink. I'm not used to seeing Ark being affectionate with anyone. The only time I've noticed an exception with his general coldness is with me.
"How is she doing?"
Ark steps back enough for me to see a bed behind him, and in it, a different woman. She has deep brown hair that is smoothed back behind her, with eyes a similar shade that stare vacantly ahead of her. The bed sheets are pulled up to her waist, with the only thing keeping her up being the way she is positioned against the headboard.
My breath catches in my throat. Is that his mother? She seems the right age, but something isn't right....
"Not much better. She has an infection," the woman mumbles.
I watch Ark's shoulder's deflate. This must be his mother, as they look far too similar for them not to be related, and he clearly cares about her.
"I should have brought more money," he mutters, walking over to the side of the bed.
"This is more than enough," the woman assures him. "Without you, I don't know what she would do."
He picks up her limp hand, wrapping his fingers around it. Something deep in my heart starts to ache watching him interacting with the shell of his mother. I don't know what's wrong, but she is beyond unwell. She is completely unresponsive.
"She's like this because of me," he breathes, smoothing her hair back.
"Don't say that. You did nothing but live your life," the woman, who I am assuming is a caregiver of sorts, exclaims. "And now, you're doing something good, for the people."
"I hope I am doing the right thing."
She comes to his side, pulling his attention to her. I watch as she clutches his face with her ageing hands, shaking his head a little.
"You are. Don't forget why you are doing this," she says lowly, as if she fears someone may overhear.
They are talking about the rebellion. She knows more about this than me, and clearly sides with Ark. I'm surprised Ark didn't drag me in here to have her indoctrinate me.
"I'm losing someone I care about in the process," he murmurs so quietly I almost don't hear it. I can't see his face anymore, so I can't gauge his expression, but I know he is talking about me and how he must balance our mate bond and the rebellion.
"If they cannot see the merit in what you do, they are not someone worth caring about," she insists.
"It's not her fault she thinks like this," he tells her.
"Then you must enlighten her."
I step away, flattening my back against the wall. It takes a moment for me to get my breathing under control, trying not to panic. I feel like I'm trapped behind a curtain, unable to tear it down to reveal the truth.
"I will. In time," I hear him say.
"You should go. Your mother will be fine," the caregiver insists. "If anything changes, I will write to you."
"Thank you. I appreciate all you have done for me and my family."
At Ark's departing statement, I dash back to the room, pretending to gaze out the window like I'm contemplating an escape.
Soon enough I'm going to learn the truth, and I'm not going to like it.
🖤••🖤
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! and as always it is available 10 chapters ahead on Radish!
THE DARKEST TEMPTATION— OUT NOW ON WATTPAD!!
~Midika 💜🐼