Changed by Fire (Phoenix Rising #6) - Harper Wylde Page 0,150

it felt odd to drop them completely. It left me feeling exposed in a way I hadn’t been expecting. The memory wasn’t a horrible one, just a day of teasing when I was in school. One of the girls I had sort of been friends with had called me a whore, told me I wasn’t very good at it with how bad my clothes were, then pushed me into the lockers. I’d been hurt, afraid, and ashamed. I had tried so hard to take care of the few pieces of clothing I had, but holes had worn through over time, especially in the pieces that didn’t fit well as I’d clearly outgrown them.

“Good job,” he encouraged. “Damien, do you feel that?” Damien’s eyes were closed, his jaw tense as he murmured an agreement. “Watch. Feel.” The words were an order. I wasn’t sure what exactly he did, but it felt like something inside me was being tugged on, similar to the sensation when stitches were pulled out after a wound healed. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t exactly painful either.

“Oh!” Damien exclaimed, shock in his tone. I really hoped that wasn’t a negative sound, especially when they were messing with my head.

Gaspard chuckled, leaning back with a sigh. “No, it wasn’t a negative sound, Nix,” he clarified, patting my hand and sliding the chair back. “He was able to feel what I did and understand it.”

“That’s good, right?” I questioned, looking between them, both wary and excited.

“It is,” Gaspard acknowledged with a smile.

“How does it feel, Nix?” Damien asked, his eyes searching mine.

“It felt really weird,” I admitted with a shrug. I couldn’t think of a better word for the sensation.

He laughed and kissed my head. “Not what I meant, baby. Believe me, we could feel that it was odd for you. I meant how does the memory feel now?”

I thought about it, replaying it over in my head again. I waited for the emotions—the hurt at realizing that someone I thought was nice was calling me names, the shame that had burned in my cheeks, the fear that they were going to do worse than shove me… I knew what I should be feeling.

I’d felt the same thing only moments ago, and time and time again when this memory had played unbidden through my mind in the past. Yet, now, it was like watching a movie of someone else. I was on the ground, staring up at her, and the nightmare changed.

Fear tunneled through me, my vision turning gray, as mocking male laughter sounded through my head.

“Fuck!” Damien called out, the curse barely registering as a sob shook my body and a keening cry escaped from my lips. I couldn’t stop shaking, all I could see were those eyes, those empty, vacant eyes.

“Ease her back, Damien,” Gaspard ordered, his voice icy and biting. “You’re her mate. Find that bond and ease her the hell back.” Some background piece of my mind was shocked at hearing Gaspard swear, but I wasn’t able to process anything at the moment. Empty. Broken. Corrupted. I was nothing. No one. What he’d always made me. What he was inside. I tried to get air in through lungs that simply wouldn’t work, my body trembling as I flinched away from the hands that grasped mine, remembering all the times Scott had forced his touch on me.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Damien whispered in my ear. Memories poured into my mind. The joy Damien had felt the first time I told him I loved him. His amusement when I bickered with his brothers. His pride as he watched me find my strength. The awe he had felt when we had all joined hands for the first time and power had swept through us. “You’re my Nix,” he told me firmly. “You’re funny and sweet and stubborn as hell.” My eyes fluttered, moving from blackness to his face as he swam into view. “You’re my everything. Our everything, sweetheart,” he murmured, stroking a soft finger down my cheek as he kissed away my tears.

I sobbed, throwing myself into his arms as he rocked me side to side. “Never again,” I croaked out. “Oh my God, never again.”

“Shh,” he soothed. “No, you never have to do that again.” I burrowed into him, melting into his arms as I clenched his shirt tightly between my fingers.

“Nix.” Gaspard’s gentle timbre interrupted my tears. “Your walls are still down. Build them back up,” he encouraged. A blush stained my cheeks as realization