The Scent (The Bryn and Sinjin Series Book 2) by H.P. Mallory Page A
Authors: H.P. Mallory
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banish them. I was more than aware that thoughts like that were not only a waste of time, but they were also dangerous. They were dangerous because they bred hope, and hope couldn’t exist in a place like this. Hope had no business here because it was nothing but the treasure at the end of the rainbow. Hope wasn’t real.
“Sinjin is the protector of the queen, anyway; he isn’t your protector,” I scolded myself while shaking my head. I was annoyed that I’d allowed myself to succumb to such wishful thinking. “And he owes you nothing,” I continued while half wondering if talking to myself was the first sign that I was really going crazy. But there was no one else to talk to, so I continued. “He’s probably already forgotten about you,” I finished. Angrily, I shoved any other thoughts of Sinjin back into the furthest recesses of my mind. All they did was depress me.
I will never see him again, I told myself, and couldn’t deny the instant depression that overcame me.
I heard the sound of the front door opening and my heart started to pound as I immediately stood up. An overwhelming sense of dread settled over me as soon as I wondered who my visitor might be. When I recognized Betta, I was beyond relieved.
With a quick smile, she closed the door behind her and hurried to the kitchen counter. She unloaded a brown box from under her arm, as well as a tray with my dinner on it. She picked up the brown box and approached me, holding it out. “Put this somewhere safe,” she said.
My eyebrows furrowed as I glanced down at the nondescript box and flipped the lid open. It was a pair of sneakers. Looking back up at her, I was about to ask why she’d brought me running shoes, when I couldn’t ever leave my prison, but she immediately shook her head. She obviously didn’t want to discuss it. I figured she must’ve known that Luce’s magic was everywhere, and, therefore, any conversations between us would probably be overheard.
I just nodded, unsure what she was up to, but also not interested enough to further inquire. I opened one of the lower kitchen cabinets and pushed the box of sneakers into it. When I stood up again, I found Betta looking at me with a large smile.
“Tonight, I brought you lasagna!”
“Lasagna?” I replied while watching her place the white ceramic plate on the kitchen table. Then she handed me a fork and knife. My stomach instantly started to gurgle because I hadn’t been able to eat my breakfast or my lunch, owing to my permanent sense of dread and anxiety. Generally speaking, I found it difficult to eat.
“I made it myself,” Betta continued. Then she studied me for a few seconds with an expression of eager anticipation on her face. Once I realized she wanted me to taste the lasagna so I could report back to her, I immediately dove into it.
“Mmm, it’s good,” I said with a counterfeit smile, my voice sounding heavy because, even though I could tell Betta hoped to improve my spirits with her offering, there was nothing she could give me that would relieve my depression.
“I hoped you’d like it,” she said with a sweet smile.
Then I started to feel bad because it wasn’t Betta’s fault that my life had turned out so completely horrible. In fact, she was the only person I actually looked forward to seeing every day because she was the only person who was nice to me.
“I do,” I offered, wishing I could say more but the words wouldn’t form on my tongue.
“Glad you like it,” she said, before starting for the front door again.
As soon as she turned her back on me, it felt like my stomach plummeted all the way to my toes and I was overcome with sadness at the prospect of being left alone again. I’d never had an issue with my solitude before, but now I was actually scared to watch her leave. I felt like the impending weightiness of the quiet within my room would suffocate me, that it would force every ounce of life right out of my body.
“Do you have to
“Sinjin is the protector of the queen, anyway; he isn’t your protector,” I scolded myself while shaking my head. I was annoyed that I’d allowed myself to succumb to such wishful thinking. “And he owes you nothing,” I continued while half wondering if talking to myself was the first sign that I was really going crazy. But there was no one else to talk to, so I continued. “He’s probably already forgotten about you,” I finished. Angrily, I shoved any other thoughts of Sinjin back into the furthest recesses of my mind. All they did was depress me.
I will never see him again, I told myself, and couldn’t deny the instant depression that overcame me.
I heard the sound of the front door opening and my heart started to pound as I immediately stood up. An overwhelming sense of dread settled over me as soon as I wondered who my visitor might be. When I recognized Betta, I was beyond relieved.
With a quick smile, she closed the door behind her and hurried to the kitchen counter. She unloaded a brown box from under her arm, as well as a tray with my dinner on it. She picked up the brown box and approached me, holding it out. “Put this somewhere safe,” she said.
My eyebrows furrowed as I glanced down at the nondescript box and flipped the lid open. It was a pair of sneakers. Looking back up at her, I was about to ask why she’d brought me running shoes, when I couldn’t ever leave my prison, but she immediately shook her head. She obviously didn’t want to discuss it. I figured she must’ve known that Luce’s magic was everywhere, and, therefore, any conversations between us would probably be overheard.
I just nodded, unsure what she was up to, but also not interested enough to further inquire. I opened one of the lower kitchen cabinets and pushed the box of sneakers into it. When I stood up again, I found Betta looking at me with a large smile.
“Tonight, I brought you lasagna!”
“Lasagna?” I replied while watching her place the white ceramic plate on the kitchen table. Then she handed me a fork and knife. My stomach instantly started to gurgle because I hadn’t been able to eat my breakfast or my lunch, owing to my permanent sense of dread and anxiety. Generally speaking, I found it difficult to eat.
“I made it myself,” Betta continued. Then she studied me for a few seconds with an expression of eager anticipation on her face. Once I realized she wanted me to taste the lasagna so I could report back to her, I immediately dove into it.
“Mmm, it’s good,” I said with a counterfeit smile, my voice sounding heavy because, even though I could tell Betta hoped to improve my spirits with her offering, there was nothing she could give me that would relieve my depression.
“I hoped you’d like it,” she said with a sweet smile.
Then I started to feel bad because it wasn’t Betta’s fault that my life had turned out so completely horrible. In fact, she was the only person I actually looked forward to seeing every day because she was the only person who was nice to me.
“I do,” I offered, wishing I could say more but the words wouldn’t form on my tongue.
“Glad you like it,” she said, before starting for the front door again.
As soon as she turned her back on me, it felt like my stomach plummeted all the way to my toes and I was overcome with sadness at the prospect of being left alone again. I’d never had an issue with my solitude before, but now I was actually scared to watch her leave. I felt like the impending weightiness of the quiet within my room would suffocate me, that it would force every ounce of life right out of my body.
“Do you have to
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