11. Do you hear voices too?
Nevaeh
I thought getting my little sugar monster into the bathtub was hard but getting him out was even more challenging.
I’m still learning to care for a toddler, and the said toddler keeps adding his toys to the list of things I have to take care of. Lately, monkey takes his new dinosaur stuffed toy everywhere with him.
The stuffed animal is clutched in his stubby fingers, whether he is in the bath, eating, or sleeping.
Finding the perfect middle ground, Angel bought three lookalikes of his favorite toy when he noticed how August insisted on feeding and bathing them.
There was no way I could dry a soaked stuffed dinosaur enough for him to cuddle with at night.
Ever since monkey woke up from his temporary coma, he has refused to leave my side. His anxiety doesn’t let him relax unless I’m within his eyesight, so sharing my room was the perfect solution.
I remember how August hated it when Deviants dragged me out of our cell, and only after I was dumped back would he let himself cry to sleep, snuggling me.
Tonight marks three weeks of our freedom from the coven.
Slowly I’ve started to rely more on the group even if it’s for simple things like food or entertainment. Not trusting them after everything they’ve done for me and my boy feels like I’m letting my past hinder my present, and I can’t let that happen.
August spent the whole day with Anxo today so it’s no wonder he fell asleep ten minutes into the movie he begged me to watch with those large doe eyes.
Batting his eyelashes to make us dance to his tune has become August’s superpower now. That's how he spent the entire day coloring on papers I’m sure were important to Anxo.
Did Angel ask for the papers back? Nope .
He simply printed more and let monkey draw all the ugly, colorful patterns he wanted to heart's content. At this point, that office belongs to August, who often takes pity on Angel and lets him work there too.
Seiji was also in and out of the room the whole day with every possible snack he could think of. At the end of the day, my baby burped so loud I swear people on the floor below us heard him.
Surprisingly, August got comfortable with Seiji and Anxo before he did with the girls. Considering our past, I was guessing it would be the opposite.
With Grace, I’m pretty sure my boy is too busy being tongue-tied to form a connection. But with Hazel, even if it seemed unlikely at first, a sweet friendship has blossomed between them. Hazel has gone above and beyond to make sure August didn’t just feel comfortable but happy around her.
Just the other day, I walked in on the siren trying to teach August the proper stance for throwing a dagger.
Thankfully for my heart, she used a wooden dagger to teach him some tricks, but the boy is three for fucks sake.
Looking at August, sleeping peacefully with the toy clutched to his chest, I’m eternally grateful to be alive. To witness him live in a safe space and be a kid again.
Three weeks of us living here also means it’s been three weeks of me surviving on less than six hours of sleep. Saying I’m exhausted would be not saying enough.
I’m trying to act more like my mate and his friends, but with each day, it only becomes clearer how fucked up I am compared to them.
I can’t fall asleep no matter how much I need it. I can barely stomach food twice a day, and my humor makes them uncomfortable since it usually contains words like prisoner, blood, starving, and beatings.
Grace says dark humor is how I cope with my trauma and that I don't have to filter my thoughts because soon they’ll get used to my quirks as I would to theirs.
If they can put up with Seiji and Hazel, then I should be fine. I swear Angel and Grace are the only sane ones in this group.
One positive thing the past weeks brought me was when Grace slid into bed beside me and showed me all the secret videos she had taken of Papa over the years.
If I shed a tear or two, I won’t say.
Seeing his face after so long fixed something inside me that I thought was permanently broken.
In some, he was laughing—like a full-blown belly laugh. In others, he was walking around chastising people for bowing to him. Grace captured him mostly when he was in a good mood, but he seems different now.
His chin is not raised high enough. I noticed him constantly avoiding eye contact with people. His shoulders droop lower than I recall, and his smile didn’t make the corner of his eyes crinkle like they used to.
I couldn’t stop the tears when he blew the candle on a small cupcake for his birthday and started tearing up in between laughing. It was like his facade slipped for that second, and I didn’t recognize that man at all.
Each video helped me get familiar with who he is now and made me hate myself for not remembering more of the happier version.
If Grace saw me crying, she didn’t comment on it. Locking my arm in hers, she distracted me with the story of how Papa told her that touching a boy who is not your mate can give you a nasty infection.
Two years later, a 15-year-old Grace was terrified when Seiji hugged her, and she spent weeks worrying she'd get infected before she confronted Papa. The man wasn’t even sorry. Just sad that his lie didn’t hold for a couple more years .
Everyone is in bed and fast asleep, while I silently pace the entire penthouse which is now my nightly routine. Returning to my room to kill some time, I plant myself on the couch nestled in the corner of my room after three hours of walking around the place.
Waking up screaming is not an option anymore now that I share the room with monkey, so I pick up the storybook Grace reads to August and flip through it.
I can feel the exhaustion seeping into my bones, but I just have to hold on for a couple more hours until sunrise. Maybe I should ask Anxo to keep a watch while I rest, so I won't kill everyone in my sleep.
‘Are you trying to hide, little girl?’
I wake up with a startled gasp. The pressure on my throat feels like a chokehold and it gets harder to breathe as the sound of my wheezing and broken gasps fill the room before I force myself to move.
I can’t wake August. If he thinks we’re not safe here and sees me panicking, it will ruin all his progress over the last three weeks.
My legs shake when I try to stand so I slide down and blindly crawl towards the door until my head bumps into the frame. My fingers are trembling violently, and it takes two tries to open the door. As soon as the dim light from the hallway pours in, I crawl outside and softly shut the door behind me.
With silent tears running down my face and my heart beating in my head, I lean against my door. When I’m sure I’m alone and not ruining anyone’s night, I let myself break down. I don’t stop the tears but muffle my sobs behind my hands.
I know what bottling my panic can do to me, and if trembling with sobs for a few hours will save me from completely losing it later, then I need to be okay with it.
I can still feel his touch on me, his sticky breath fanning my neck as he carves my thigh. That memory is so fresh in my head that I can practically see it happening before me. The way his face twists in shame when I refuse his command in front of the Queen, the promise his eyes hold for when he will have me alone.
I don’t know how long it takes until my body stops shaking, and there's only a faint ringing in my head instead of the hammering like before.
When my broken wails settle down to a simple tightening of my chest, I use my doorframe to rise from the floor. The dark, quiet night helps me melt into the background without anyone having a front-row seat to my epic breakdown.
In the empty living room, I sit on the couch numbly for half an hour, trying to hold down my reality.
Stuffed between the cushions, I find the remote and start scrolling through the rows of movies with no intention of actually watching anything.
When heavy footsteps make their way to me, I turn to find Angel slugging into the room, rubbing his eye with a fist. He looks adorable as hell if ignore how he only has sweatpants on and his upper body is bare.
I’d seen the markings on his arms before, but I didn’t expect most of his chest and abdomen to be covered in unique patterns and writings as well.
Before I can figure out what he's doing awake at this hour, Angel climbs on the couch and lies down with his head on my lap and arms around my waist. At first, I’m startled, but I don’t dare move an inch.
Angel nuzzles my stomach sleepily, and I tell myself not to hesitate. Burying my fingers in his soft curls, I comb through the mane. I’m forever going to be jealous of how soft his hair is.
“Why aren’t you in bed, sweetheart?” His voice is muffled with his head pressed against me. I’ve been sitting here for at least an hour and not even a minute with my mate has my shoulders losing their tension.
“Couldn’t sleep.” I curse in my head when my voice breaks a little.
“Another nightmare?” His arms squeeze me tighter like he’s trying to glue us together.
More like another dark memory.
Turning his head in my lap to face the TV, Angel asks, “What are we watching?”
He’s staying?
“I don’t know. I couldn’t figure it out. Is Frozen good?” I hand him the remote when he waves for it.
“It’s the best, baby.” Angel shifts on his side so his back is pressed against the sofa. “Come here.” He lifts his arm for me to slide in.
“You should sleep, Anxo.”
I move in, unable to resist the offer. Pressing my back against his warm, naked chest, he pulls me closer until I’m using his arm as my pillow.
“So should you.”
My memories are still playing tricks on me, but now that I’ve had some time to settle down, I want to clarify one thing. I can’t keep it to myself anymore... not when I know how vulnerable I can be at times.
I need to trust someone to protect my kid when I can’t.
“August. I can’t—I won’t leave him.”
I’m not sure if Angel wants such a huge responsibility when he’s so young himself, but August is mine now.
He chose me on his first night in that dungeon, and that same night I swore to choose him over everything and everyone.
Just thinking about life without Anxo leaves a bad taste in my mouth, but my love and loyalty for that little boy trumps the possibility of a broken heart.
Angel intertwines our fingers beside my stomach and kisses the back of my head.
“I knew it was a package deal from the day I saw you holding him in those woods. Anyone with eyes can see how attached you both are, and it’s not just you, sweetheart. I adore that kid to no end. August needs stability. A family, now more than ever, and we can give that to him. I want to give that to him.”
“You do? You want him with us? ”
“Of course I do. You are my whole world, sweetheart. Anything you want, I’ll make it happen.”
“I’m so glad you found us.” His hold tightens when my voice cracks.
Taking the soft blanket hanging on the back of the sofa, Angel drapes it over us. His arms hold me hostage while his face nuzzles my neck, where he leaves reminders of his presence with sweet kisses.
In the safety of his arms and the gentle hum of our proximity, I fall asleep with a smile on my face. Not a single thought spared about what comes next.
◆◆◆
I wake up hours later, and for the first time, it’s not because of screaming, my nails digging into my arms, or opening my eyes to find myself in an abandoned cell with walls soaked with my blood.
I wake up to him.
Sweet kisses peppering all over my face bring a sleepy smile to my lips. My eyes slowly flutter open to find Angel crouched on the floor in front of me, softly running a hand through my hair, coaxing me into waking up.
My sleepy daze slowly subdues when I see his soft chestnut curls, neatly styled and still wet from shower.
Angel looks ready to start his morning in a fitted white dress shirt and black pants. I miss the soft sweater look, but formal shirts on him are equally drool-worthy.
“Morning beautiful,” he whispers, fingers playing with a strand of my hair. My eyes cast down to his other hand lying idly beside my stomach, so I hold it between mine.
Where it should be.
“Morning Angel.”
I don’t mind letting the endearment slip anymore. It never fails to bring my favorite dimpled smile to his lips so that's a bonus.
“Time to wake up, baby. I want to take you out for a drive around the city today, so go freshen up quickly. And yes, I promise to get you all the junk food you want.”
With that, Anxo disappears to ask Seiji to keep August busy for the day, but not before kissing my cheeks and savoring the blush his gesture brings.
I rush to my room, only getting lost three times. By the time I leave the bathroom, Angel is lying in the center of my bed, not caring about wrinkling his clothes.
“You took awfully long, sweetheart. I was—”
Anxo stops short when his eyes find me in nothing but a small towel covering the basics. For a second, it doesn’t dawn on me. I'm clueless about his lack of words until cold dread washes over me when I follow his gaze to the scars littering my arms and shoulders.
Fuck. How can I be so careless? How can I forget about the scars consuming me whole like they’ve always been a part of me?
My hands shake beside my thighs, and I’m sure I look like I’m about to pass out. I want to turn around and lock myself in the bathroom, but I can’t do that to myself.
I’m not going to hide.
This is me.
My scars, flaws, and dark humor included.
This body has kept me upright long after my will to survive was broken. These scars are reminders of what I’ve been through and that I survived.
I won’t let anyone—not even myself, piss on that.
When I finally let my eyes meet his, Angel beckons me with his hand outstretched. I let him guide me to sit on his thigh when he makes space for me between them.
With a hand around my waist to keep me steady, he raises my chin so I’m looking at him. The raw admiration and adoration this man has for me makes it hard to keep my emotions under control.
He doesn’t have to do anything but hold me like this, looking at me as if I’m the reason he is breathing, and every wall I have around my heart falls over brick by brick.
“This is me.” I’m proud of the conviction in my voice. I’m not going to let my past and insecurities lead my future. He deserves more than that.
We deserve more than that.
“And you. Are. Magnificent .”
There’s an aggressive determination in his voice like he is challenging me to think differently. Like he would fight me and anyone else who dare say otherwise.
Leaning forward, Angel softly kisses the corner of my mouth—dangerously close to my lips, which leaves me wanting a little more.
Tucking a wet strand behind my ear, his eyes gaze at me so intensely that I feel stupid for thinking he, of all people, would ridicule me about my scars.
There hasn’t been a single day when Angel hasn’t gone out of his way to make sure I felt safe and comfortable. He deserves every ounce of my trust, and I’m determined to give it to him.
To let him know how sure I am about him.
About us .
“How?” When he sees that I don’t understand, Angel rephrases, “We heal phenomenally well, sweetheart.”
Oh.
“Slicing at healing wounds is more painful than creating new ones. They started cutting open old scars when I ran out of skin.”
Angel is quiet as he traces every scar he can reach on my thighs and kisses the ones on my bare shoulder.
“Those bastards are going to die a painful death.”
The promise in his voice melts me.
For someone who hates inflicting more harm than necessary, he is willing to kill for me.
How romantic .
“We could do it together! But you said you're taking me out, and there’ll be food. Let's do that first.” I beam .
Angel chuckles, softly tracing his finger over my smile.
“Mhm… get dressed, and I’ll take you.”
“You’re here to make sure I don’t get lost again, aren’t you?”
“What was that? I think Seiji is calling me. Go get ready, baby.” Anxo ushers me to my closet and hands me something before I can shut the door.
“Another one?” My heart beats out of my chest when he hands me another one of his hoodies. I don’t think he has any left in his wardrobe anymore.
“Last one, sweetheart. You’ve got to stop stealing from me.”
“You gave me the first three of your own free will!”
“What about the other five?” He points to the shelf in my closet that's stacked with his hoodies and I not-so-discreetly close the door with my foot.
Time to accept my faults...
“August did that. He loves hugging me when I wear your clothes, so he took them from your closet and left them here. Strange kid, I tell you.”
I quickly leave and hide in the closet before Anxo can catch me. When I heard a thunderous laugh behind me, I open the door an inch to see his head thrown back and hand clutching his stomach, looking as yummy as ever.
If being a moron means hearing him laugh like this again, then I'll be a moron for the rest of my life.
Dressing up in his comfy black hoodie, I pull on a pair of black shorts that disappear beneath the hoodie.
I have a few zagged marks on my thighs and calves that healed poorly. Normally I would hide them, but I feel more confident now that Angel has seen them and didn’t even blink. Not one negative comment or expression.
It bothers me a tiny bit when people gawk at them, but in this penthouse I’m around my mate and friends. And none of them have ever made me feel anything but welcome to be myself. Maybe it's time to stop hiding my scars from them.
Anxo groans when I come out and scans me with a strange look in his eyes. I’m about to ask if what's wrong when he makes a beeline for me and wraps me in his arms, dropping his head on my shoulder.
“I don’t feel like sharing you now.”
Mister Sunshine turned Grumpy Pants.
Luckily for Angel, his mate has a strong Divine or this man would’ve broken a poor girl by how he leans his weight on me. I rub his back like he does to make him feel better and kiss his cheek several times.
“Okay, cuddly bear, I like you a lot, but I’m not missing fried food because you don’t want to share me.”
Angel reluctantly lets me step back and lead him to wherever the fuck our dining room is supposed to be.
He doesn’t stop grumbling until I ask if he wants to repeat how we cuddled last night because it helps me sleep better.
Angel perks right up and stops pouting. It’s good to know last night was important for him too, because after being in arms once, I don’t think I can ever spend a night without him wrapped around me.