The Reaper's Curse #1 - Complete

The Dead Lands

With nerves lodged in her throat, Alicia ascends the steps to the upper floor of Oliver's home. Her home too, a small part of her has realised. She's dusted this place, made things shine again, read more books than she can count, carved her little spot in the world and it's home now.

It shouldn't be. This isn't her place, it's his.

She glances down at the tray in her hands as she approaches his door, a crease forming between her brows. Maybe he doesn't want her in his space. Maybe he's just too polite to kick her out while she has nowhere else to go.

Sighing, she juggles the tray of tea in one hand and knocks on the door with the other, his muffled reply to enter sounding straight away.

"I thought you could use some tea," she says as she nudges the door open, the scratch of pen on parchment is a soothing sound that greets her. Oliver doesn't glance up at her as she approaches, his focus intent on the papers and maps strewn across his desk that's shoved against the wall. She sets the tray down on a clear space on the desk, brushes her hands on her shirt, clears her throat, then turns around when he doesn't reply.

Retreating, she rubs the bandages on her hand, hoping she hasn't disturbed him.

"I'll be leaving soon," he says.

Alicia freezes, inches from the door, from an escape she's trying to convince herself she wants. But his voice is the only conviction she needs to turn back, those eyes steadily watching her, a pillar for her in this mad world.

"Where?"

Leaning back in his chair, he runs his fingers along the shaved underside of his hair at the back of his neck, and Alicia studies the man as though he's an ancient painting before her, one that would be seen hanging in her mother's mansion atop her hill. She never could understand them.

"I think I found where your uncle hid those supplies."

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"I want to come with you," she replies, not even certain why before the words leave her. Something within her makes her say them though. She owes it to Kathryn to put all of this to rest once and for all.

"No," he utters. Alicia frowns at him as he stands, a surety in his steps as he gives her his back, tugging the gun from his holster and placing it on his desk. "It's too dangerous, I'd rather you stay."

"I want to help," she insists, stepping towards him.

"I'm not going to risk your life." He glances her way as she stands there, grinding her teeth. "There's no argument."

"You don't get to control me," she starts. "I want to help, so I will. I didn't get hurt going to the Costa mill."

"This is different."

Alicia lets out a breath, shaking her head. "How?" she asks.

Oliver sighs, leaning against his desk to glare at the wall before him. "The further away from the capital walls we get, the more dangerous the land becomes. There are more Grey Bloods, the exiles up there are more ruthless. It's pure savagery. I won't subject you to that."

"That's not your choice to make."

Oliver pulls the leather straps of his holster from his shoulders with more force than necessary, hanging it on the back of his chair. "You're not hearing a word I'm saying, are you?"

"Not really." Though she is, fear is already unfurling in her gut. But she knows she needs to do this. She knows she needs to do to something to begin making up for what happened to Kathryn because she was stupid enough to fall into Warren's hands.