Chapter 10
The enormity of the front of the house rose up in front of me, taller and stranger than I remembered.
My feet shifted, sinking into the spongey soil beneath me.
Above the peak of the weathervane, the sun hid behind a tumultuous sea of black clouds.
I looked around. Pockets and grooves marred the dirt drive around me, but the twisted roots of the overgrown plants were gone, and the trailing vines that had tried to reclaim the house were missing.
The property appeared more like the magnificent house it should’ve been.
I took in a deep breath that burned my throat. An odd tang hung in the air. This vision wasn’t right.
A gust of wind whipped my unpinned hair around my face. I wore my nightgown, though it was clearly day. Uncertainty took root, but I continued to stand there watching the house like I was waiting. It inspected me back. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed someone appear beside me.
Abigail.
I opened my mouth to apologize for my state of dress and confusion, but no words came out.
She paid me no attention, staring at the house with shining eyes.
Her copper curls fluttered behind her like butterfly wings, loose and carefree.
Her face was smooth and tan with a youthful flush underlying her freckles.
I held my breath, temporarily stunned by her beauty.
I tried to speak again, but there was no sound. A terror crept up and settled in my chest.
Abigail brushed back her locks, then took off toward the house, an easy skip in her gait. My chest lurched as if dragged by an invisible chain. I fought to keep my feet planted, but the weight tugged against me until I gave up and followed the command. In a blink, I was behind Abigail at the door.
The porch was no longer dilapidated. Fresh green paint lined the door as bright as the first blooms of spring. She paused to run her fingers over the rose-colored flowers decorating the lintel.
Abigail pushed the front door open and continued inside.
I moved after her, drawn by the unseen thread between us.
As I crossed the threshold, the door shut with an echoing thud, locking us inside.
The air shifted around me, hanging heavier with a pregnant uncertainty.
It pressed against my shoulders and I rocked back on my heels to steady myself.
She didn’t seem to notice the change, however.
She stared around as if looking for someone.
That’s when I noticed the bundle in her arms—a black leather book she pressed tight against her bosom.
With a snap of her head, Abigail ended her brief survey and bounded up the stairs.
Taking them two at a time, I stumbled after her, my feet barely touching the floor.
At the top of the stairs, she stopped in front of my door.
She still hadn’t noticed I was right beside her, that she wouldn’t find me in my room.
Without hesitating, she stepped inside. Horror spread through me as I lunged behind her, bidden by invisible hands.
She was prying into my affairs and was about to come face-to-face with her husband in my bed.
As I followed her into the room, I tried begging her to stop, but my tongue remained tied.
But my room was empty. There was no sign of Abigail or that she’d ever come in.
A stiff silence ate up the stale air. Everything was as I remembered it, my still-packed cases in front of the armoire, the layer of dust I hadn’t yet had time to clean.
But my chest refused to settle as I looked around.
This wasn’t right. All at once, I was hit with a smell of rust, of wrongness.
“Hazel?”
That voice. My body froze. It couldn’t be.
Perched on the edge of the bed was Elijah.
His worn brown suit hung loose on his shoulders like he’d recently lost weight.
His face was stubbled, and his mop of brown curls desperately needed a trim.
But his honey eyes were bright as they traced me up and down.
The ache I hated to give admittance to pooled hot and rapid in my stomach.
And there was no sign of Jacob anywhere.
“Elijah?” At last, I found my voice. I couldn’t say if I was angrier at him or at myself for being pleased to see him. “What are you doing here?”
He smiled, revealing his dimples. “I’m here for you, Hazel. Why else?” The ache moved lower into my center. Elijah had come back for me, but the elation I expected from the thought didn’t take flight inside me.
“You didn’t want me.” The words came out jagged and low.
He winced.
“That’s not true. Of course, I want you.”
My feet shuffled closer of their own accord, betraying my own want.
He eyed me with a hopeful smile. “Always.”
“Elijah, no—” My throat choked my words. He couldn’t be here, shouldn’t be here. “I … I love Jacob now.”
“I don’t believe you.” His voice rumbled through me, and I didn’t stop him when he reached out to grab my waist. “See? You love me. You want me.”
The words were possessive, almost feral.
“I can’t.” With trembling hands, I reached out and brushed my fingers against his cheeks. My usual inhibitions rolled off me like water. “I can’t, but I do. Elijah, I need you.”
My hands dropped to his shoulders. I ran them up the length of his neck and through his tousled hair. He moaned as he drew me closer. Hunger growled within me in response. I climbed onto his lap, locking my legs around his and pulling us together, one chest beating firm against the other.
Our lips met, a river of heat fueling me.
His fingers traced up the sides of my thinly covered ribs, cutting grooves with feverish heat into my skin.
He trailed his fingers across my chest and palmed my breast. I gasped into his mouth, unable to control my breathing.
Unlike the kiss we’d shared before he left, full of only promises and innocent longings, this was raw and potent—the color of rubies cut sharp and alluring.
I wanted more of him, all of him. I wanted in ways I’d never allowed myself to want.
Elijah locked his arms around my back and rolled me over until his weight pressed me against the bed. I should’ve trembled, but I craved and moaned. His lips traveled down my throat and across the top of my collarbone. The pulsing need deep within me sped up. My hands cut grooves into his back.
A droplet hit my hand with force enough to interrupt my rapture.
Then another plopped onto my forehead. It must’ve started raining, but I ignored it, desperate to return my focus to Elijah’s lips now whispering into the crook of my neck.
Another drop landed on my arm and slid down my elbow.
A tangy smell overcame my senses. And then I realized—we were inside.
I forced my eyes open. The roof was there above as it should be, but more drops fell onto my face.
I lifted my hand from Elijah’s back as he kissed lower, his fingers gripping the white fabric of my nightgown like he might rip it open with impatience.
I blinked, all thoughts of pleasure fleeing my mind.
My wrist dripped with scarlet. I brought my hand closer to my face to inspect.
Blood.
My scream reverberated through the room, but Elijah didn’t stop. Drops of blood now covered his back, his hair, my arms. I felt them oozing down the sides of my face and sticking warm between our bodies. The taste of dark rust cut my tongue.
“No, no, you must stop,” I pleaded, trying to force him off me by the shoulders. He needed to see the sky was leaking blood as if in a biblical plague. But he didn’t stir, his tongue now exploring the tops of my breasts. I gasped again, stuck between this grip of pleasure and terror.
“Please, Elijah, the blood—”
He lifted his head and my words dried in my throat. Elijah was gone. Staring back at me, with his piercing, iced eyes was Jacob. He gripped my waist too tight, his fingers digging into my barely clothed skin.
“Mine,” he murmured, his tone biting through me like windchill. With a single motion, he tore away the fabric of my nightgown. I opened my mouth to cry out, but my tongue drowned in blood. His fingers slid over the peaks of my breasts. My back arched into him, restirring the desire in me.
I wanted him too.
My eyes closed in reverie as he continued his exploration, our panting breaths filling the room.
But I could hear the constant drip of the bright crimson cascading from the ceiling.
I forced my eyes open again. Blood seeped down the walls, a sickening coat of paint.
But neither of us stopped our passion play.
Instead, my vision blackened as we were covered in a torrential downpour.
The red mess soaked through the sheets, tangled in our hair, stuck thick to our skin. Soon it filled my mouth, my throat, my lungs. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle as I choked on blood.
“Hazel!”
Two hands held my shoulders firm. My eyes flew open and I shot up. I was in my bed. Jacob leaned over me, his eyes tracking back and forth rapidly in the darkness. I forced in a deep breath. Nothing blocked my airway.
“Are you all right, darling? You started screaming.” Jacob spoke softly, his slightly shaking hands gripping my upper arms.
I looked around the dark room, blinking in the low light. No blood painted the walls. I shook off his arms and brought my hands to my face. No crimson stained my skin. I patted the sheets around me. They were clean and white. I swallowed. No taste of rust.
It was only a dream.
First, stalking Abigail through an imagined world.
And then those carnal wants. Elijah’s words hit me again: Always.
I took in another breath and exhaled slowly like I could force every horrible anxiety trembling through me to leave my body. My heart began to slow and a wave of foolishness hit me. It was a dream, nothing more, and I’d screamed as though a child.
I couldn’t meet Jacob’s gaze.
“I’m sorry. It must’ve been a nightmare. Forgive me for waking you.”
I dropped back onto the pillow, hoping that would end the conversation. I didn’t dare confess the hunger that had nearly devoured me.
Jacob laid back down beside me. “You should dream of nothing but joy, my dear.”
His arm wrapped around me, cocooning me against him. Warmth whispered through me. My husband had me secure in his embrace. Entwining my fingers with his, I sunk back against his body.
“I’ll do better tomorrow,” I murmured. “I promise.”
Soon his snores again filled the room. I tried to hold on to the sense of comfort his closeness brought, but sleep fled from me. One day in this home and already I was floundering. But I would prove my worth as a wife.