Never Too Late

[Oriena]

Despite being half dead, Nox dusted off his heroic bullshit for the occasion. She dropped her grip because she had little choice, and met the glare as he interceded – to take the heat, she imagined, like Ori simply couldn’t control herself. She resented realising it was what he might think. By the volatile flare in her eye it was clear she was furious, though he was wrong in thinking it had anything to do with what he did or didn’t call her, or Jensen’s politeness. Ori liked to toy, and if she frequently took it too far, it wasn’t out of any real desire to permanently harm someone. A finger could have pushed Nox back to crumble on the hospital bed, but there was no fun in that.

“It was a genuine question, sweetheart. Brandon doesn’t deserve his loyalty,” was all she snarled in response. Or Nox’s loyalty either, the tone implied. By then Sage was rambling through the wallet, and Ori’s senses searched tentatively inwards. The queen couldn’t possess her, not unless she used her own power, but the creatures usually seemed to know where she was. Several had come to her aid when Ryker had nearly killed her, and she’d had to slam the shield on him to prevent them latching on. She didn’t trust the flicker of their interest now – or their hungry silence. It’d be a fucking slaughter.

Though she hadn’t quite finished with the healer, despite his confused dismissal of her hostility. “That mask he makes you wear, it doesn’t protect you. It keeps you locked away. Isolated, and alone. That’s why you’ll do anything to help anyone every meagre chance you fucking get. It’s the only connection you have.” It wasn’t said kindly, but they weren’t empty words meant to wound either, just a savage truth. Better for Jensen if he grew a backbone rather than just accept the crumbs thrown out to him.

With a sour look she left them both to it.

Out in the corridor, the pressure built in her head almost as soon as she started away, but she didn't want to be around when Jensen reached for his gift. Her teeth grit as the churn of voices began – begging to feed, reminding her of the oath she’d sworn to them. Unsurprisingly, no one stood in her way as she stormed her way out, not even when she dragged a sleeve across the blood dripping from her nose.