Sin of Fury - By Avery Duncan Page 0,126

would look so happy, so carefree. So smart and intellectual, just as a woman who was heir to the throne of their world was meant to look.

And he’d lost her. Because of his own foolishness. Because of his own selfish need to make her know that she was his blood, that he loved her. That someone cared for her as they should.

Zyn turned away from the forest and stared at the diner. He could hear the graceful steps of a deer a little ways behind the diner, searching through the brush and then loping away.

“You freaking idiot! Your daughter is in danger!”

Zyn froze.

“Are you going to listen to me now?” the voice asked. It was much closer than before, much more clearer. And much more angrier.

“My daughter is...dead,” he said numbly, walking away from the voice. The twenty was just a folded up paper in his hands, but it could get him something to eat. Something to gain strength with. He’d promised Lucian that he would come back, would take care of things.

How could he do that when he couldn’t even take care of himself? He thought of the deer, and felt his stomach clench. It was time that he fed. Cleaned up. Got back on track.

His large, thin frame shuddered. Not with cold or hunger, but with trepidation. For the future. The past.

Inside of the diner, only a few people sat among the tables, with the rest of them behind the counters, cooking and talking and laughing. The second he stepped inside, though, it became dead silent.

Awkwardly walking to the counter, he sat down and looked at the menu. The void in his mind was nothing but a normality. He could forget about things in a second if he had to, was used to doing so. But that voice, the female voice with such anger in her voice, was haunting him.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Zyn’s head snapped up in the direction of the voice. A large guy, dressed in an apron with grease stains and in checkered pants was standing in front of him. He held a spatula, a plate of fries and burgers, and standing behind him was the whole staff.

“Why?”

The cook blinked and then looked at him as if he were stupid. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and then gestured with the greasy spatula. “No shirt, no shoes, no service.”

Zyn stared at him.

He shifted on his feet uncomfortably, eyes flickering away from Zyn’s and then back. “Listen, man. I can’t serve you, so there’s no reason for you to be here. You’re making the Misses uncomfortable,” he tried, his deep voice even more awkward than it had been before.

Zyn stood up slowly, hating that it felt like needles were being shoved through his joints. Now that he was ready to come back, to take his place in the world once again, all of the pain that he had felt in the past ten years was coming back like a burning flame.

“Is he?” a quiet, scratchy voice said from the corner. The cook’s eyes shot over to the window-seated booth before landing on Zyn.

“Ma’am...”

“Give me one of everything on the menu,” she said. A thin figure peaked up from the booth, frizzy hair and bright blue eyes connecting with his.

The staff began to disperse, walking away from the cook, who stood his ground -- or tried to. Denying her would be a big loss of money, he thought absently, sitting across from her.

“Now, boy,” she said, sounding not in the least condescending as she completely forgot he was there and started talking to Zyn. “It’s been so long, I had almost forgot how tall you were,” she said quietly.

Zyn took in her appearance, nodding. Her hair was white and frizzy, sticking up in the most random places. Her eyes, bright and blue, were insightful and lively. Her hands were nothing but bones, wrapped loosely around a cup of coffee. Her floral patterned shirt hung off of her frail body.

The last time he had seen her, she’d been so very young. She’d used to have thick brown hair that fell down her back, and she hadn’t had even had laughing lines on her cheeks.

He nodded, lips lifting. “I almost didn’t recognize you,” he said easily, leaning back into his seat. He stretched his legs out and steepled his fingers.

“Well, Zyn, it’s been so long since you’ve graced our lovely world with your presence. I assume you are going to re-take your throne?

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