Chapter 29
Walking to the one next to it, I placed him on the bed. At least this cell had one. The phoenix stared at me and nestled against it. His eyes looked sad, and I could tell he was in pain. I wished I had magic so I could heal him. Maybe I could try to siphon some from somewhere? Taking my jumper off, I cringed. I only had one and two changes of clothes. Hopefully, it wouldn't get too cold, but he needed it more than I did. So, I made him a makeshift nest out of it. "I have to go," I told him, patting his head. He watched me and nestled into his bed. But when I tried to leave, he squawked, and my heart raced at the noise.
I rushed back, clamping my hand on its beak. "Shh, shh... They will hear you. You have to be quiet. I will try to catch you some mice or find some food, but you have to be quiet," I told him, and he made a cooing sound but dropped his head, tucking it under his good wing
I patted him for a few seconds on the orange-red feathers that remained on his neck before giving him a kiss. He ripped his head out from under his wing, and I thought he would bite me, but he pressed his big beak to my cheek, and I brushed the few feathers on his head.
"I will be back," I told him. He stared with eyes far too intelligent. My mother used to have a phoenix before she died. After my father brought her back and turned her into a dark fae, I remembered it hated my father, constantly pecking him and snapping at him when he got too close to her, but it loved my mother. After she changed, it turned on her and attacked her, so dad killed it. I loved that bloody bird and cried for a week straight.
The phoenix appeared to realize I was trying to help him. He nestled down in my jumper, and I raced upstairs. I went back to my room, trying to find anything I could to help him and see if I could find something to feed it. I smiled when I laid eyes on the bandages still sitting on the dresser. They were filthy, but I might be able to use them to wrap his wing and part of his torso. Phoenixes grew quite large; fully grown, they stood at about five feet. My new little friend was a juvenile and was only around the size of a macaw right now, so I knew he would grow much bigger.
I grabbed the bandages and my pillowcase before deciding to smuggle the entire pillow out for him. I remembered how cold it got down there. Deciding to shower before dinner, I retrieved one of their shirts. I always thought it odd that I found a new one in the room to sleep in every night. I only had two pairs of pants and two shirts plus my jumper, so I was excited because now I had socks and some flats to add to my tiny wardrobe.
Just as I was about to walk into the bathroom, I noticed the glint of steel on the bedside table. I totally forgot about the scissors I'd smuggled, but why were they on the dresser? One of them must have found them, yet they left them, which surprised me. Let's see them rip my damn hair out when I have none to pull on. I snickered at my thoughts, snatching the scissors off the top of the dresser and walking into the bathroom.
I tugged my jeans off and placed them on the counter since I still had to try and go and steal some dinner from the mess hall, and I certainly wasn't going down there in just one of my mates' shirts.
Looking in the mirror, I stared at my long, raven black hair. It was unruly and hung to my waist. My grandmother and father had the same color hair, and it saddened me that I was about to chop it off. But at the same time, I was sick of it being the first thing they grabbed. Grabbing the scissors, I hacked at one side. As I held up the handful of hair I'd just lobbed off, my stomach sank. Tears streamed down my face at how short it was, sitting just below my shoulders.
Placing the hair on the bench, I tugged my hair up in a ponytail, chopping it off. You can do it. Besides, I had already cut one side that looked like I had tried to cut it with a fork; it was so uneven, and the scissors were blunt. So I couldn't back out now. I raised the scissors and gripped my hair at the top of my head, close to the scalp. I started chopping at it when the door opened. I didn't even have a chance to see who it was before the scissors were snatched from my hand, and my head was yanked back by the very hair I was trying to get rid of
I cried out and clutched my hands before spotting Darius in the mirror.
"What the f**k do you think you are doing?" Darius snarled as Lycus wandered in behind him. Kalen's voice reached my ears, but Lycus quickly slammed the door and locked it.
"Darius..." Lycus hissed.
"She was-" Darius looked at me in the mirror before noticing my hair on the countertop. "Why would you chop off your hair? What the f**k is wrong with you?" he said, thrusting the scissors at Lycus's chest.
“Because I am sick of everyone f*****g grabbing it," I snapped at him, and he quickly let go. He seemed shocked at me yelling at him. I rubbed the back of my neck and the top of my scalp. It felt tender as strands were yanked out on the crown of my head.