Relinquish: Book II of the Rising Trilogy by Amy Miles Read Free Book Online Page B

could take them out with a single thought, but I won’t. They are innocent.
    I look at the open doorway that leads into the bathroom attached to my quarters. Although I may be opposed to most of the modern conveniences I have been forced to endure since moving into Thalar, there is one I embrace as often as possible: a bath.
    Despite the fact that it isn’t as refreshing as the waterfall back in the caves, I do enjoy a long soak in the slightly rusty yet beautiful claw-foot tub. It was once white and flawless. Now it has taken on a slightly dingy hue and boasts a few chips, revealing black metal beneath.
    My room is simple, no frills like some of the homes I’ve been in. Candles line the wooden dresser on the opposite wall, their wicks charred and burnt to the halfway point. A wooden staff and a crossbow and leather quiver rest against the closed cupboard, reminders of my former life. Four knives of varying lengths are spread across my table, glistening beautifully in the warm sunlight. I love these most of all.
    I’m not allowed to use the weapons to hunt in Thalar. Kyan says there is no need with active supply lines up and running smoothly. I have more food than I’ve ever wanted, yet I am unhappy, for many reasons, but mostly because I feel unneeded.
    Eamon and I used to be the hunters of our group. We would spend our days in the forest in search of meat. It was freeing, rewarding. We ate what he killed and nothing more. Now I feel confined and lazy, trapped within a new prison.
    A pile of books collects dust on my bedside table. A gift from Aminah not long after I was moved into these quarters. She was worried I would feel lonely. I cast a contemptuous glance at the pile, knowing nothing within those pages could ease the hollowness I feel.
    Bastien would have loved those books, diving through them to discover their untold treasures. Maybe that is why I’ve never opened their covers.
    Kyan has gone to great lengths over the past few months, teaching me about Earth, the way it was before. My vocabulary has swelled. I can now walk through Thalar and know what dumpsters and hairdryers are, read the faded billboards that perch on rooftops, and decipher a cookbook, although it is a waste of time. No one would want to eat anything I make.
    I look beyond the books to the walls. They are a light yellow, the paint a bit worn and faded, but still hold a hint of false cheer. I suppose I could have picked a room with a more drab color scheme to fit my mood, but I liked the southern light in the morning.
    My walls are free of decorations, barren. I like it that way. It reminds me of the dismal grays of my cave.
    I sit up, rolling my neck from side to side to release some of the stiffness that settled in during my jaunt into the future. Kyan would be proud of my accomplishment if not for the fact that I was directly disobeying his orders and blocking him completely out of my mind at the same time. He knows I am angry. Let him stew over it for a bit. Maybe it will do him some good.
    Aminah came to see me last night with a basket filled with freshly baked bread and Zahra in tow. I know she only came at Kyan’s bidding. Despite the friction Zahra and I used to share over her affections for Eamon, our relationship has begun to improve, slowly. That doesn’t mean I trust her any further than I can throw her, which is a pretty good distance. I’m pretty sure I could get a good mile out of her.
    Eamon has remained absent from my quarters, although I don’t find that surprising at all considering how we ended our conversation the week prior. I knew he was hurt, but so was I. He can’t always treat me like a child that needs to be protected. As much as I love his concern, I also find it to be irritatingly suffocating.
    From my window last night I saw the tip of Shard lit up until well after midnight. Kyan must have called together his advisors, no doubt to discuss the next plan of attack. I wonder if he discovered anything within the