Chapter Fifteen
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Ily
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MY HEART ACHED AS HENRI stormed away.
What had I done wrong?
I thought we’d reached an understanding.
The way he’d hugged me after I’d whispered for him to play along with me. The way his entire body enveloped me in such protection, such hope.
I thought that’d been his answer.
In my GHB high state, I thought it’d been a yes.
Yes, to playing along.
Yes, to the act of using me, abusing me, making me kneel and scream—proving to everyone in this damn place that he was the worst. I would play along and be the best-trained jewel in here.
I’d do whatever it took to convince everyone that Henri was one of them and I was his, and then...
maybe, just maybe, Victor would let him leave.
He’d trust him with the location of this island, and Henri could tell his brother, and reinforcements could arrive and—
I slouched.
It wasn’t a yes.
Dread-filled butterflies churned in my stomach as Henri vanished into the stronghold in the distance. He’d never left me alone before. Never run away as if he couldn’t stand being in my presence.
My bruises and ribs still hurt.
My bones ached with matching pockmarks from nasty bullets, but those wounds were nothing compared to the pain of confusion. The scrambling of the bond I thought we’d formed.
Whatever I’d felt that night—all those stupid, stupid feelings...they were nothing more than a ridiculous fantasy.
Enough.
Climbing to my feet, I groaned as my body protested.
I had far more important things to worry about.
Peter.
Rachel.
The jewels.
I was finally free to visit them.
Brushing a few blades of grass off my black workout shorts and aqua sports bra, I followed Henri’s footsteps through the manicured grass.
A shiver ran down my back as I climbed the deck and cut around all the empty tables.
This fortress was hell on earth when monsters were in residence, but empty—apart from inconspicuous staff and black-suited guards—it was eerie.
No sounds of pain around shadowy corners. No sick laughter as a Master whipped a jewel. No awful beatings in the gardens.
I hadn’t noticed how much every scream and whimper curdled my stomach. The calcification around my heart at the sounds of abuse chipped away a little, thanks to birdsong and silence.
A sharp-eyed guard watched me as I padded barefoot through the dining room. He didn’t stop me, and another guard took up his glower as I cut across the foyer and down the stone corridor leading toward Dr Belford’s surgery on the ground floor.
I added each guard to the ongoing tally in my head.
So far, I’d counted twelve on the ground floor and five scattered in the gardens.
I had no idea how many patrolled the upper levels or the battlements.
For the past few days, I’d started keeping a record of guards and staff, adding their positions to the schematics in my head.
As much as I hoped Henri would snap out of his strange silence and reveal he was still good, deep, deep inside, it wasn’t in my nature to sit around and wait.
We had three weeks before the Masters returned. Who knew when Victor would fly home and if we stood a chance at getting out...this was our best opportunity.
My feet—healed from their shallow cuts from running in caves and forests—slowed outside the carved door of the surgery.
I shuddered with memories of that first day. Of Peter flirting with the doctor and nurse. Of his false happiness doing its best to hide just how afraid and hurt he was.
God.
My heart ached as I knocked.
Guilt pressed heavily.
A week since I last saw him. It wasn’t good enough.
The door swung open. Melanie Belford stared coldly. “Oh, it’s you.”
I flinched at her warm welcome. “C-Can I come in?”
Looking past me, she scanned the empty corridor. “Your Master isn’t with you, I hope. I’m not exactly a fan.”
“No.”
She frowned. “That’s a first. Letting you wander around on your own.”
I shrugged. “I suppose he feels I’m safe enough without other Masters staying.”
“Safe?” She clucked her tongue and moved aside to let me in. “I don’t think it’s anything to do with your safety, Ily, but more about his demented need to possess you.”
Ily.
My name caught me off guard.
Henri had barely talked to me since the night I’d taken pleasure from him. The talkative man who’d broken me with his secrets had turned into a stoic statue who barely grunted responses. And when he did deign to speak to me...he never used my name.
A prickle of worry shot down my spine.
Was it because of what it meant?
Was he that allergic to love that he couldn’t even say the damn word...even in an acronym?
“Is Peter awake?” I asked, brushing aside her comment.
Sighing heavily, she removed a pair of latex gloves and beckoned me to follow. “He is.”
My soul leapt with relief. “So...he’s okay?”
She gave me a hard look as she guided me to a second door and led me down another hallway. “Define okay.”
“Healing? As happy as can be expected?”
“He’s a long way from happy, I’m afraid.”
“But he’s not going to die?”
“Not from this incident.”
Her pessimism soaked into me.
It suffocated all my other questions.
My teeth locked together the farther we travelled.
The scents of disinfectant grew stronger as we spilled out into a long narrow gallery.
The ancient castle that Victor stole his blueprints from would’ve used this sort of space as an art display or promenade track.
But now, in this modern hellhole, it housed a long row of single beds all facing a bank of interconnecting windows.
Each window was wide open, allowing sunshine and fresh air to circulate.
A few jewels I recognised looked up from where they crowded around a bed.
With no Masters to serve and no Victor to command them, they huddled around the only leader they actually respected.
Rachel smiled and waved.
Mollie gave me a nod.
Citra and Caishen, Nancy and Corinne. Some of them had made the choice to go their own way in the caves, and others had left us out of panic. I held no grudges. Only relief to see so many faces.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” Dr Belford said. “I need to help Rose change Yumeko’s bandages.”
She retraced her steps and left me alone.
Drifting forward, my pulse pounded.
As much as I was one of them with our matching collars and cuffs, I was still removed—thanks to Henri refusing to let me sleep in the slave quarters.
What if they thought I wasn’t to be trusted? What if they no longer welcomed me?
Fear clutched my throat as I reached the end of the bed, and my eyes landed on a soulmate in friend form. I’d been wrong that he wasn’t a soulmate. I’d forgotten what my family had taught me. Soulmates came in all forms. My brother and parents were soulmates.
And this man too.
Undoubtedly.
And Henri? What’s he?
“You’re destined to destroy each other...”
I sighed heavily.
If Peter was my soulmate as surely as Krish was...what did that make Henri?
Was he my twin flame like the astrologer said?
While Henri typed away on his laptop the past few days, I’d done my best to remember what I’d researched after we’d gotten home that day.
Krish had helped me, and together, we’d found texts full of dire warnings.
Things like: You’re drawn to each other against your wishes.
When you meet, you just know. Your twin flame will feel different from everyone else.
Unbearable sexual chemistry. Reflection of darkness and light.
Difficult and painful. Can amplify feelings of loneliness and loss.
Cause discord and hurt. Can only be a lover and most often as not, ruin each other if that is the karmic pattern.
Finding your twin flame never seemed to work out well.
Shaking my head from useless thoughts, I blinked and focused on Peter.
His dark brown eyes met mine, his dusky skin drawn with pain.
Bare-chested and propped up by white pillows, he shifted his legs beneath the sheets and gave me a wobbly smile. “Hi...”
Every worry.
Every concern.
Gone.
Tears instantly erupted, and my knees threatened to collapse. “Aap theek hain.” (You’re okay.)
He shrugged a single shoulder. “I’m alive.”
“Alright, guys.” Rachel suddenly stood and clapped her hands. “Let’s give them a few minutes.”
With soft smiles and sweet kisses on my cheeks, each jewel gave me a quick hug as they moved from Peter’s bedside and went to visit the other jewels healing down the row.
I never took my eyes off Peter as Rachel hugged me last.
Pressing her lips to my ear, she whispered, “Meet me in the kitchens once you’re done. We need to talk.”
I squeezed her hand and nodded. “I’ll be there.”
“Mollie and I will be waiting.” Turning to blow a kiss at Peter, she added, “See you later, Pete.”
“Yeah, you too.” He grimaced as if speaking took too much energy. “Do what I said and ask Mel to order you some prenatal vitamins.” He swallowed hard, pushing himself to care about others instead of himself, even now. “Just because it’s his doesn’t mean it’s not yours too.”
Rachel rolled her eyes as if she’d heard it before. “Let’s just focus on you first, okay?”
With another quick smile at me, she clasped Mollie’s hand.
They headed back the way I’d arrived.
I didn’t move until the other jewels had scattered.
I tried to see who survived that awful game, but my heart pounded, and I couldn’t take my eyes off how frail Peter had become.
How his body held no vitality. How his hands rested like white tombstones on the bed, wrapped in thick padding and bandages.
How that damn, damn collar seemed extra heavy and extra cruel, cutting into his neck.
Moving closer, I sat carefully by his hip and drank him in. Tears plopped off my chin as I forced a smile. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”
He laughed, then winced. “Meh, I’m feeling decidedly mixed about that.”
The urge to fling myself on him and hug him stupid came far too strongly.
I managed not to fling, but I still hurt him as I folded close and wrapped my arms around his slender shoulders. He felt even less substantial than before. No longer wiry with strength but thin with sickness.