War Claim (The Claim: Book 3)

Chapter 18 - Animkii

A fist pounded on Animkii's door. He knew who it was before she even knocked. He could tell by the gaiety of her steps across the hallway floor and the soft hum of a tune his parents wouldn't know.

"Come on, Anim! It's her birthday!" Anwaatin declared.

He rolled over on his bed, hugging his pillow tighter to his chest. Squeezing his eyes shut, he buried his face into the fluffy pillow. He inhaled, held his breath for a second, and then exhaled slowly. The pressure in his chest tightened as it always did with the act of breathing.

Damn. Was it the last week of March already?

"You go ahead," he muttered. "She won't want me there."

She hadn't reached out to him since he ended their friendship.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She came to visit Anwaatin on weekends, and he could hear them together downstairs, playing and talking in soft voices. A few times she had paused outside his bedroom door. She didn't say anything or do anything, she just stood there. While straining his ears, he would hear the quickness of her heart beating within her chest before her feet padded away.

She probably felt sorry for him. Maybe she wanted to say something sympathetic or try and cheer him up but then decided not to intrude?

Who could blame her for walking away? Everyone would surely walk away and pity him.

'Nineteen and already lost his mate. Poor thing.'

Or, maybe the thoughts of others were more sinister?

'He'll never come around. They rarely do. He's weak. His parents are weak. We need someone strong to lead us.'

Both sides were right. He was pitiful, weak, and pathetic.

Sitting around the table with his family for meals were different. They weren't cheerful or full of interesting conversations anymore. They were quiet. A few words spoken here and there. Tension saturating the air—and he knew it was because of him. His presence brought everyone down.

Anwaatin thrust open the door and it bounced off a pile of dirty clothes and nearly smacked her in the face before she caught it. Scowling, she stood there with a hand on her hip and the other on the doorknob. "Come on. Don't be such a party-pooper."

"That's exactly why I shouldn't go," he murmured. "I'll bring everyone down."

She rolled her dark brown eyes and strode toward him. "When was the last time you went out, huh?"

He rolled over, giving her his back. He didn't want to admit that he hadn't left his parents' house since Madison's death. Not even for the Winter Moon Festival.

He really was pathetic.

She tugged on his arm. "Come on, Anim!"

He yanked his arm from her grasp with a snarl. "I don't want to go, okay?"

"You never want to do anything except mope around!" Huffing, she threw her arms up in the air. "I'm sick of it! I want my brother back!"

Rage welled up inside him. Rolling over, he sprang up from the bed and towered over his little sister with his fists clenched at his side. "I lost my mate, Ann! What the fuck do you expect from me? How would you feel if you lost your mate? If your mate disappeared and no matter how much you tried to find him, you couldn't? And you could feel him being tortured and you couldn't do anything to stop it? Couldn't do anything to save him? And then he died? How the fuck would you feel?"