CHAPTER 36 #2
“Are you angry with me?” She croaks softly, her voice raspy from not being used for so long.
My heart leaps at the sound of her angelic voice. Even though it sounds hoarse, it's still the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. I smile softly and slowly cup her other cheek. This time, she doesn't flinch, and I feel my stomach warm, delighted that she accepts my touch.
“I could never be angry with you, angel,” I whisper.
Her cheeks turn a soft pink and her eyes sparkle for a few seconds. I freeze when she presses her forehead against mine, but I quickly regain my composure, closing my eyes and sighing contentedly at the feeling of finally being close to her.
“I love you,” she whispers in a shaky voice.
I feel the butterflies that I always get when she says those words and I smile blissfully.
“I love you too, princess.”
Day 4...
Aelys has been more talkative, even if she sticks to short sentences.
She still refuses to leave the room or see anyone—although Carmen has tried several times—but she does eat more, and the nightmares are less recurrent.
She still flinches slightly at my touch, but she tries to feel more comfortable with me, resting her head on my shoulder or simply taking my hand in hers.
Sometimes my touch is still too much for her, but it's obvious that she's fighting it.
She seems determined to no longer tremble under my touch, as she seeks it out and tries to endure it.
We're currently sitting next to each other on the couch facing the bookshelf in our bedroom, our fingers intertwined as I hold a book in my free hand, reading aloud to my wife.
Our hands are the only parts of our bodies touching, but I know it's a big effort for her.
I feel her tense slightly, but she doesn't move, so I stop reading, raising my gaze to her beautiful face.
“You know you don’t have to force yourself to hold my hand, love,” I say softly. “If it’s too much, you know you can let go.”
She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she opens them again, her gaze falls on our intertwined hands, and slowly, I feel her thumb caress my skin in a slightly hesitant, trembling gesture.
“It’s just… I don’t want you to be disgusted by me,” she murmurs, not daring to meet my gaze as her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
I frown before forcing my features to soften as I lift her chin with two fingers, quickly removing them so as not to overwhelm her. Her beautiful brown eyes meet mine, and the look of shame and guilt shining in them makes my stomach ache.
What's going on in her pretty head?
“I could never be disgusted by you, angel. Do you understand?” My voice is stern but still gentle because I don't want to scare her.
She looks away and bites her lower lip. I refrain from pulling her closer, knowing it would only make things worse.
“You should be…” Her voice is so low and shaky that I almost can't hear it. “I killed our baby.”
She sobs and quickly covers her mouth to stifle the cries.
Without thinking, I pull her towards me and hug her tightly.
She flinches at the sudden contact, but once her head meets my chest, she melts into my embrace, her arms wrapping around my torso.
I wrap mine around her shoulders and rest my chin on the top of her head, rocking us slowly to comfort her.
I let her sob for a moment, knowing she needs it, before I speak, my voice calm and affectionate, but firm.
“I want you to listen to me, princess. Okay?”
I feel her nod against my chest and I take a deep breath.
“You didn't kill our child. Law did. None of this is your fault. And I promise you, my love, we will make them pay for it.”
She doesn't move or speak for a few minutes before sighing. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“Always,” I mumble.
She doesn't move away from me, and I suppress a smile, proud of her once again. She's still in pain, but she's slowly making progress and trying to heal. She's so strong, and I admire and love her even more for it. I kiss the top of her head, and she sighs contentedly.
But our moment of peace is shattered when a letter appears on the armrest of the sofa. The yellowing of the parchment makes me sigh.
My love pulls back slightly, raising her head to look at me, her brows furrowed. I sigh and kiss her tenderly on the forehead.
“A letter from my father. He's summoning me.”
Worry fills her irises and I kiss the tip of her nose, making her crinkle it. I laugh softly and stroke her cheek lovingly.
“I'll be quick, I promise.”
She nods hesitantly, and I slowly let go of her, standing up from the couch. I don't turn to look at her as I stomp out of the room, knowing that if I look at her again, I'll never make it down to the manor's reception room where the Dark Mage awaits me.
I quicken my pace and finally reach the double wooden doors of the reception room, tense as a bow. I knock and enter after hearing my father bark a reply.
“Ah, my son, you finally honor us with your presence,” he spits, observing me with narrowed eyes.
I put my hands behind my back and bow, not meeting his murderous red eyes. “Forgive me, Master, I came as quickly as I could.”
He clicks his tongue and I tense even more, preparing to hear the order to kneel and receive my punishment. Yet nothing happens.
“Has your wife been found, my son?” He hisses.
I straighten and harden the mask of indifference on my features, knowing I can't tell him about my feelings for Aelys or he'll have us tortured or worse, killed. My brown eyes meet his and I shudder in horror, as I have for as long as I can remember whenever he’d look at me.
“Yes, Master. One of O'Connor's followers abandoned her at the manor’ gates four days ago. Forgive me for not reporting it sooner, Master, but my wife was seriously injured and required medical treatment. I couldn't leave her.”
My father hisses menacingly, his dirty nails digging into the armrests of his wooden throne. My jaw tightens at the sound of him scraping the wood, but I remain impassive, simply waiting for him to speak.
“Is she better now?” He asks coldly.
“Her physical injuries are completely healed aside from a few bruises, Master,” I clear my throat, knowing I'm about to play with fire. “However, I have a request.”
He gestures for me to speak, clearly impatient, I swallow hard, remaining impassive.
“She was tortured for hours by Rick Law. After all her injuries healed, we discovered she was pregnant, but due to the torture, she lost the child. I wish to take over the task you entrusted to her and kill Law with my own hands.”
His fist slams violently against the armrest of his throne, but I don't flinch, used to his outbursts of anger. I keep my chin high and my back straight, never taking my eyes off him, my heart pounding in anticipation.
“She lost your child?” He cries out, furious. “Bring her to me! Immediately,” he growls.
I feel my heart stop for a few seconds but I nod and teleport to our room without waiting, knowing that walking to the upper floor of the mansion would take too long and would only anger my father further.
Aelys gets up from the couch and comes over to me, worry etched on her face. My mask slips, I let fear flood my eyes, looking at my wife, knowing she'll hate me for this.
I should have just shut the fuck up.
“Is everything alright?” She asks softly, her hand reaching out to my cheek.
I let her place her palm on my skin and close my eyes, letting out a shaky breath.
“He knows,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “He wants to see you. Now.”
I feel her tense and I open my eyes, waiting for her to yell at me. But she doesn't. She simply nods and purses her lips. She quickly changes out of her pajamas and puts on a pair of black pants and a black sweater. Then she intertwines our fingers and looks up at me with resigned eyes.
At her nod, I teleport us back to the reception room on the ground floor, facing the Dark Mage, now busy stroking his snake's enormous head. We both bow, without saying a single word, our faces and eyes devoid of any emotion.
“Aelys,” he hisses menacingly. “You have failed in your task of giving us a Rigast heir. I am disappointed, my child.”
I see her swallow out of the corner of my eye and feel my fingers twitch, desperate to grasp her hand in mine. Yet I remain motionless, knowing it would only make him angrier if he knew how we felt about each other.
“I'm sorry, Master,” she replies in a small voice before clearing her throat.
He clicks his tongue and then laughs maniacally, making us both freeze. I have a feeling I know what's going to happen and I hope I'm fucking wrong.
“Son, punish your wife for her failure.”
My heart sinks to my stomach and I feel my blood run cold.
No.
I don't want to do this. I can't hurt her.Anything but that.
“Master, there may be another way. She is still convalescing-”
“Enough!” He shouts, making my lips close into a thin line. “Either you punish her yourself, or I will. Your choice, son,” he spits, his tongue licking his rotten teeth.
I swallow and stare at the whip on the side table next to my father, but I hesitate to pick it up. My father watches me intently with sickening pleasure, waiting for me to make my decision.
Me or him.
‘It's okay, my love. I want you to do it.’
I fight the urge to close my eyes as her soft voice echoes in my mind.
I step forward and slowly grasp the whip, my knuckles turning white from the pressure.
I turn to face her, my heart sinks when I see her on her knees, her bare back exposed for the torture I'm about to inflict.
A surge of pride washes over me as I realize how strong my wife is.
Invincible.
Unbreakable.
I clench my jaw and force myself to raise the whip before bringing it down on the thin flesh of her back.
She tenses at the pain of the blow, even though I do my best to hurt her as little as possible, the torture has to be convincing to my father.
He must not detect any affection between us or he will torture her instead.
Only, I know he will keep going until she dies.
I don't wait to strike again, then a third, gritting my teeth harder with every low and painful grunt Aelys lets out. By the seventh strike, the pained grunt that escape her lips sounds more like an animal noise, and I freeze, the whip gripped so tightly in my hand that my palm hurts.
My father claps and laughs wickedly as the dull sound of bones cracking and breaking echoes through the room and Aelys stifles a scream.
My eyes widen as I see her body convulse, then writhe as she collapses to the marble floor of the reception room.
I force myself to stay still, grateful to have my back to my father so he can't see the worry and distress on my face as I watch the woman I love suffer helplessly.
When Aelys's body finally stops convulsing and twisting into humanly impossible angles, I gasp because in my wife's place is now a magnificent lioness.
The realization that the torture she endured at Law's hands was stressful enough to activate her shapeshifting side hits me, I gasp quietly, amazed by the beauty of my wife's animal form.
“Well done, my son,” my father applauded, snickering behind my back. “Now I'm going to give you a new task. Find the mole or moles who announced your new wedding date to O'Connor. Bring them to me once you've found them. You're dismissed.”
He waves his hand, pointing at the door, probably thinking I'm the one who's just activated Aelys's shapeshifting side.
Her feline eyes lock with mine, she pivots, heading for the room's double doors.
I lay the whip down, keeping my eyes on her before following her and opening the door so we can leave.
My heart races as we walk through the ground floor corridors that lead to the grand staircase. I admire her with pride as her feline body climbs the steps and I follow her, unable to take my eyes off her.
A lioness. That suits her pretty well.
I push open the door to our suite and let her in before following her, locking it behind us as she shifts back into human form, dressed like any shapeshifter when they transform.
“I’m so sorry, angel,” I mumble, ashamed that I had to torture her.
“It’s okay,” she replies in a small voice.
I shake my head frantically and kneel in front of her, lifting my head to look at her with tear-filled eyes. Hers widen in shock, her lips part slightly.
Getting down on my knees is nothing compared to what I would be willing to do for her.
“No, it's not. I tortured you, damn it. I didn't mean to…” My voice breaks and I clear my throat, my eyes fixed on hers. “Will you forgive me?”
She pulls herself together, a small smile playing on her lips. She joins me on her knees, her small hands cupping my face, her thumbs tenderly caressing my skin. I lean into her touch but force myself to keep my eyes open, not wanting to take them away from hers.
“There’s nothing to forgive you for, darling,” she says softly. “You had no choice. I’m not angry with you, I don’t hate you. I love you, Mattheo.”
I close my eyes and let out a shaky sigh of relief.
I feel her lips press against mine and I gently kiss her back.
We haven't kissed since her miscarriage, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it.
The kiss is short but passionate, we pour all our love into it.
She rests her forehead against mine and sighs.
“I want Law and O'Connor dead, Matt.”
The harshness of her tone surprises me. I've never heard her voice so cold, so hateful. I can feel the anger emanating from her body, and I know she's pushing her sadness aside to let her rage take over. I nod quickly, letting her know she'll get what she wants.
I would give her anything she asks for.
“I promise you, my angel, they will soon lay dead at your feet,” I vow.