SWNOVELS Emperor of Rage: Chapter 20
The next evening, I’m back in the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallway of the hospital. The sharp, overwhelming smell of antiseptic hangs heavy in the air, but I’ve grown used to it by now. When you’ve been in them as much as I have, hospitals have a way of becoming familiar no matter how much you hate them.
Delores beams at me when I walk over to the nurses’ station. Before she can say a word, I’m marching behind the counter and into her space and flinging my arms around her.
“Thank you,” I blurt as I hug her tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Sometimes, karma has a way of balancing things out. Amid the shitshow of the last twenty-four hours and everything that happened at the wedding, something good actually happened:
Damian woke up.
Delores hugs me back, rocking me side to side as I fight back the urge to cry into her shoulder.
“Told you he was a fighter,” she says quietly, smiling as we pull apart. “That was all him, honey.”
I throw her a look. “Hey, you’re the one who took care of him and kept him comfortable, so he could focus on getting better. I brought you something.”
I sling my bag off my back and pull out a wrapped present. Delores’ brows arch as she takes it. “Can I open it now?”
“Please do.”
She almost loses her shit when she unwraps the vinyl copy of Fleetwood Mac’s Tusk album, autographed by Lindsey Buckingham.
“Is this real?!” she blurts, staring at the scrawled signature.
“Yup,” I grin. I nod my chin at a rusty stain next to the autograph. “And that, allegedly, at least according to the guy I got it from, is a bloodstain from Stevie Nicks’ nose after one too many lines of coke.”
Delores screeches as she hugs me tight again. “Thank you, hon.” She pulls back, and her brow arches again as she eyes me.
“What?”
She smiles curiously. “You look…different. I mean…” She shakes her head. “It’s like a vibe about you.”
I feel my cheeks flush. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
She chuckles. “My mistake. You go off and see that handsome brother of yours.”
“Thanks, Delores.”
I start to head down the hall.
“Hey—Freya?”
I turn back to her. She’s got a shit-eating grin on her face.
“By ‘vibe’, I meant ‘giant fucking hickey on your neck’. Just an FYI.”
Heat explodes across my face and my hand jerks up to the bruising on my neck I’ve tried to cover with concealer. Fuck.
Delores chuckles. “Unless you got into a fight with a chain, I’d love to hear about your hot date.” She nods her chin past me. “Your brother might not, though…”
“You look like shit,” Damian croaks, his voice scratchy but still laced with that teasing edge I know and love.
I roll my eyes, moving closer. “Thanks. You look like a corpse.”
He’s sitting up in bed, no longer with all the unnerving feeding and breathing tubes snaking out of his mouth. His supernaturally white hair catches the light, making him look almost otherworldly, like a ghost.
His eerie, purplish eyes lock on mine. With Anni and I, they’re always filled with smiles and charm.
With most other people, they’re filled with pure darkness.
He chuckles, the sound a little strained but genuine. “Still better looking than most, I’d say.”
I roll my eyes. “I see weeks of hovering near death have done nothing to diminish your ego.”
“Mercifully, not my dick either. I checked.”
I make a puking face and gag.
“Oh my God, could you not?”
Damian grins widely as I slap his arm.
Despite the humor in his words, there’s an undercurrent of darkness in him lurking just beneath the surface. It’s always there, a part of him that he can’t hide, no matter how hard he tries. But he walks that tightrope between charm and danger perfectly, somehow balancing the two with ease.
“Hey, don’t hit me,” he grunts. “The whole ‘near-death’ thing, in case you’ve forgotten already?”
“Yeah, well, you’re not dead, which is kind of an inconvenience for pretty much everyone else, including me.”
Damian flips me off. I do the same right back.
Then he smirks at me. “You’re lucky I’m too weak to strangle you.”
I chuckle, but the warmth of the moment fades quickly. The weight of everything that’s happened—the wedding attack, the uncertainty of what comes next—presses down on us, casting a pall over our conversation. To make things worse, we just heard that Annika is going to be flying back to Japan with Kenzo. He’s pulling out of New York in the wake of all the violence, not to mention uncertainty about who the enemy even is.
On the plus side, it means my best friend is going to be utterly safe. Kenzo commands an army back in Kyoto, and lives in a fortress-like mansion. And even though this marriage is just one giant peace treaty, and he and Annika don’t even like each other very much, I know Kenzo is old-school when it comes to certain things. Like marriage.
Even if he and Annika can’t stand each other…although I have questions about that kiss at the altar…she’s his wife now. And I know he’ll protect her with everything he has for that reason alone.
Still. My best friend, my sister, my shadow, is leaving me.
Damian picks up on my subtle mood dip. He’s good like that.
“You’re thinking about Anni leaving.”
I nod.
“I just can’t believe she got fucking married,” he sighs. “And that I was in a coma so I couldn’t say ‘yeah, me, right here,’ when they asked if anyone present objected.”
I snort. “Actually, I don’t think they asked that at all.”
“Sounds like collusion to me.”
I roll my eyes. “She’s in good hands.”
“Kenzo Mori is a fucking snake. The whole family is.”
I shrug. “They’re not all bad.”
“Meaning?” Damian growls.
I quickly shove any thoughts of Mal down.
“Hey, Hana is cool. Anni and I have been hanging out with her.”
“Who, the bleach-blonde robot ice queen?”
I glare at him. “She’s a friend.”
“You’re pronouncing enemy wrong.”
I sigh, patting his arm. “You’re a little behind on this season’s episodes, what with the coma and all. I think you’ve got some binge watching to do.”
“I think I like that idea about as much as I like those fucking marks on you,” he growls, his sharp, venomous eyes scanning me, his gaze lingering on my neck.
Where Mal mauled me.
I instinctively reach up to touch my throat, trying to cover the bruises. Damian’s expression hardens.
“Who did that to you?” he asks, his voice suddenly cold, all traces of joking gone.
I stiffen, my heart hammering in my chest. “No one,” I shrug.
Damian’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Freya. Don’t fucking lie to me. If someone’s hurting you—”
“No one’s hurting me,” I interrupt, my voice steadier than I feel. “I’m fine. Seriously.”
He sits back, his expression unreadable as he studies me. “Are you seeing someone?”
I shake my head…maybe a bit too quickly.
“Whaaat?” I drawl casually, waving a hand. “No. Definitely not.”
Damian doesn’t push it, but his eyes remain sharp, the tension between us palpable. He knows me well enough to guess when I’m hiding something, but he also knows when not to press. So he just lets out a soft sigh, his fingers twisting the bed sheets.
“Just be careful,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper. “This world will eat you alive if you let it.”
I nod, my throat tight as I reach out to give his hand a light squeeze. “I know. Good thing I’ve got you back now.”
Later that night, the hospital looming behind us, I stand with Annika by the car that will take her to Sota Akiyama’s private plane. The air is cool, biting against my skin, and the weight of the moment presses down on my chest like a boulder.
“I’ll be back soon,” Annika says, pulling me into a big bearhug. “I promise.”
I hold her close, my throat tight with unshed tears. “You’d better. If you don’t, I’ll come to Kyoto and cause so much trouble.”
She laughs, trying to hide her other, less happy, emotions. “You promise?”
“We’d burn that place down, bitch,” I grin. “So you’d better come back soon.”
She bites her lip as her eyes lock with mine. “You’re my family, Frey.”
“You have Kenzo now, too,” I remind her softly, though the words taste bitter as they leave my mouth.
Annika wipes her eyes, a sad smile pulling at her lips. “I’ll visit. I’ll make sure of it. Or else I’ll just fly you out and keep you there.”
I nod, hugging her tightly. Then it’s time to go.
I’m unable to speak as I watch her climb into the car. As it pulls away, that hollow ache in me deepens, settling into my bones like a chill I can’t shake.
For the first time in ages, I feel completely alone.
Hours later, back at Kir’s mansion, I sit alone in my room, staring at my phone.
I hate that I’m even contemplating texting him. I refuse to be that emotionally needy chick who pathetically calls and texts and pines over the guy she screwed, even if it was her first time.
So I bring up my convo with Annika and text her instead.
Me
Any good inflight movies?
Annika
Dude this plane is INSAAAANE. It’s not a jet. It’s a fucking 747.
My brows shoot up. Holy shit.
Annika
Forget inflight movies. I just had sushi and sake with Sota at the freaking sushi bar on this bitch!
Me
Goddammit. Pair me with peanut butter and call me jelly.
Annika
LOL
Me
Annika
I wish you were here. It’d be so much cooler
Me
Well obviously. But at least you’ve got Hana, right? Go get up to some serious shit with her, please. For me.
Annika
Lol, deal. I’ll try and pry her away from the gang.
I frown.
Me
Gang?
Annika
I just mean the Mori family. Kenzo, Tak, Mal.
It hits me like a punch in the stomach.
Mal’s on his way to freaking Kyoto.
He left to go to the other side of the fucking planet and didn’t say a thing. Didn’t even hint that he was leaving. Now he’s just…gone.
I stare at the text, my thoughts spiraling as the reality of his departure sinks in. He’s gone. Just like that. Without a word, without a goodbye—
Oh fuck off, self.
I should be pleased. If he’s gone, it means the sick arrangement we had is over, or, at least, on pause. I should feel freer, lighter, knowing that Mal’s possessive grip on me has been loosened.
Instead, I feel hollow.
Used.
Like he shattered my world and then disappeared, leaving me to pick up the pieces on my own.
I toss my phone aside, staring out the window into the darkness. I wrap my arms around myself, feeling the cold emptiness settle deeper into my bones.
Mal is gone. I should be relieved.
So why the fuck aren’t I?