Chapter 13 #2
“Take a sip,” he says, lifting a bottle of water to my lips.
The cool liquid falls on my tongue, and I swallow every drop greedily.
His left hand reaches up toward my neck, and I squeal.
“Relax. It’s just ice,” he assures me, his voice softening.
He glides the ice down my neck and across my chest, instantly cooling my overheated body.
I close my eyes, feeling the lightheadedness dissipate with each gentle stroke.
“You’re okay,” he affirms. But it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than me.
“You’re okay,” he repeats softly, his eyes absorbing every inch of me.
“I won’t ever let anything happen to you. ”
I lean forward, pressing my head to his shoulder, exhaustion engulfing me. Inhaling his familiar scent eases my racing mind. He wraps his arms tighter around me, his tenderness soothing every tense muscle within me.
As his hands gently glide up and down my back, he asks, “What brought this on?”
How do I answer that? How do I tell him I don’t want to marry Alastor? How do I explain to him that I signed my life away to the devil? I can’t. So instead, I reply, “Everything.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes. I’m too scared to move or say anything because I don’t want this moment to end.
I just want to be in Eli’s arms for the rest of my life.
Because that’s where I’ve always felt safest.
His lips move next to my ear. “You don’t need to do this.”
I shake my head, fighting back tears. “I don’t have a choice.”
His hand stills on my bare skin. “What do you mean you don’t have a choice?”
I pinch my eyes closed. Shit.
“I just mean…” I sit up, looking him in the eye. “Everything is booked—the caterer, the venue, the florist. It’s in a matter of weeks and is happening now, whether I want it to or…”
Not.
I let the last word die on my tongue, knowing it lingers in the air, heavy between us.
“Don’t marry him.”
It’s a plea.
One that slices right through my beating heart.
A single tear slides down my cheek. “You don’t understand.”
“Then tell me. I’m right here. I’m listening.” He reaches for my face, his thumb brushing away the tear. “I can fix this for you. Just tell me, love. Tell me what happened.”
You, I want to say. You are what happened.
But I don’t.
Because he never asked me to do what I did.
He never asked me to save him.
But I did what had to be done.
And I don’t regret doing it.
Not one bit.
Taking a deep breath, I sit up straight, placing a hand on his cheek. “I need you not to interfere with my wedding. It’s happening. It needs to happen. And I’ll be okay, I promise.”
“You can’t seriously expect me to sit back and let you marry that—”
“I do, Eli.” I try my best to show a small smile, but it’s a struggle.
He runs his hand through his hair, glaring up at the ceiling. “I’ll do anything for you, Madeleine. You know that.” He shakes his head. “But this is one thing I can’t do.”
“Eli, please—”
“What about us?” he asks, pain laced in his words.
“There is no us,” I answer softly, looking down.
His fingers hook under my chin, tilting my face up. “There is always an us.” His eyes hold mine, and I feel seconds from shattering—from telling him everything. His lips part, ready to say more, until his eyes shift to my arm, narrowing in on the blue skin.
Oh no.
I try to quickly pull my hand away, but he’s faster. His fingers wrap around my wrist, holding me in place—gentle yet firm. He flips my arm over to examine it closely.
I should have done a better job of hiding it.
I shouldn’t have let him see.
Because the wrath swirling around his dark irises is unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed as they fixate on the black and blue fingerprints imprinted on my skin.
This isn’t the first time Alastor has manhandled me, leaving evidence behind. But it’s the first time I wasn’t careful enough to conceal it.
“He hurt you,” he states slowly. One might think he’s calm if it weren’t for the calculated anger charging the air between us.
Anger, not directed at me.
But at Alastor.
I shake my head. “It doesn’t hurt. It was my fault. He didn’t mean—”
“When he spoke to you privately,” he whispers, deep in thought. His thumb glides tenderly over my skin. “When I left you alone with him.”
“It’s not what it looks—”
“This is my fault. I never should have left your side last night.” He drops his hand, his face growing more fearsome with each passing second. “We’re leaving. Now.” He picks me up, placing me on the couch beside him.
“Wait… What?” I stand, suddenly realizing I’m only in my underwear, and reach for my clothes. “We can’t leave. I still need to—”
“He hurt you!” he roars, spinning toward me. His chest heaves with each breath, and his eyes are wild with a desire for vengeance—a need to punish.
I take a step toward him and place a hand on his chest. The rapid beat of his heart beneath my touch terrifies me. “You cannot hurt him. You cannot touch a hair on his head. If you do…” I swallow hard. “Just please promise me you won’t hurt him.”
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.
For a moment, I think he’s calmed down.
I think that this whole thing will be forgotten.
But as soon as his eyes open, my relief is short-lived.
Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to my temple. “He hurt what’s mine. And he will learn to never do that again.”
What’s his? But I’m not—
I don’t get the chance to say another word to him as he turns away and strides outside, seeming like a soldier on the most crucial mission of his life.
After getting dressed and impatiently waiting for my gown to be bagged appropriately, I head outside, expecting to see Eli waiting by the car for me. Instead, I’m met by Reginald.
And only Reginald.
My stomach plummets.
“Where’s Eli?” I glance around the parking lot, hoping to spot him nearby.
“He left,” Reginald replies, taking my dress from me and placing it securely in the back of the car. “He said there was something urgent he needed to take care of and had a car come pick him up. He told me to tell you that he would see you tonight.”
I nod, my mind racing through every worst-case scenario.
“Are you all right?” Reginald asks with concern etched into his fatherly face. “You seem a bit pale.”
I smile, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.” He opens the door for me, and I slide onto my seat, closing the privacy screen while waiting for him to shut the door behind me. The moment he does, I grab my phone from my bag and press it to my ear.
“Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.”
It’s Eli.
“Eli, please don’t—”
Leave a message.
My heart sinks.
There’s no way this will end well for either of us.