The Last Harmon [Complete]

Chapter 18

My mind rises with the simplicity of the dawn. The light hits my face, warming my skin, and I open my eyes slowly while blinking. I just lay there, watching quietly as Sam stands with his back to me rustling through his closet. He is shirtless and that doesn't bother me, it's a pleasant sight to be greeted with first thing. My eyes linger on the light scars that cover most of his back, they're more like slashes, as though he's been whipped. His wounds have healed but those scars remain, and I wonder how he got them. His body tells me more about him than he ever could tell me himself. He's been hurt, he's overcome the hurt, and he's stronger for it. Well that's what I tell myself.

"Are you just going to sit there staring at me or are you going to get up?" he hisses as he quickly throws a shirt over his head. He hasn't even turned around.

"How did you know I was awake?" I say.

"Your breathing changed."

"Right," I say, slowly sitting up. "I've got to wait for Sophia anyway." I see him extracting something like a rope from the closet and he folds it around his arm. "Is that why you get up so early? To see to the horse?"

He freezes, and for the first time he turns around to stare at me. "What did you just say?"

"The horse," I say. "The one in the yard. I saw it the other day. He yours?"

"You saw the horse?"

"Either that or I was imagining him," I say. "I didn't take you for the pet kind."

"He's not a pet, and don't ever go near that horse again. Not unless you want to be ripped to pieces."

"Ripped to pieces?" I laugh. "He was friendly. Wait, w-what is he?"

"You don't want to know. He was a gift from the demons. If he didn't show you his true form then that means he didn't view you as a threat, which is impossible."

"Right because I haven't got anything better to do around here than go threatening horses."

"Just stay away from him, that's an order." Sam locks eyes with me at the door, as though his order is more dramatic that way.

"Fine."

As he exits, Sophia arrives, and his bad mood doesn't even phase her. She's probably too used to it. She ignores it completely as she walks inside carrying a pile of dark coloured clothes.

"Good morning," she says, annoyingly chipper. "I thought Sam's clothes would be a little too big for you so I brought you some stuff."

"Thanks," I mutter.

"Well, what are you waiting for? There's a lot to do today, let's go."

"Like what?" I demand, meeting her harsh stare. "Walk around shackled to you and eat breakfast with a bunch of people that hate me?"

"No, no shackles," she says. "I promise. You are free to walk as freely as you want. As for the breakfast, well most of them don't come down for another hour or so, it should give you enough time to use the bathroom and choose something you want to eat. It won't be bad, today is going to be a good day, I can feel it."

"Really?" I say. "Is Amara dead? Is the world back to normal? Can I walk into town without being hunted as a witch and chased with pitchforks?"

Sophia takes a deep breath and drops the clothes on the floor. I'm being stubborn and mardy, but I have every right to be. She sits at the end of my blanket bed, forcing me to tuck my legs in.

"So, what's the alternative?" she says quietly. "Sit here all day and isolate yourself to the point of madness? I get why you don't want to go out there, I do. To me, it's my home, walking it is what I do every day, but to you it's your prison. It feels like your prison, and you're scared of everyone you're going to see. I'm trying to adjust to that, so just tell me what will make it easier."