Chapter 14
Fourteen
Climbing up onto the bed and wrapping myself in a mound of covers, I finally let the tears come.
Fear and pain, guilt and relief flow out of me in a torrent, washing through me like a tsunami, destroying the walls I have built around myself.
Holding this back was the right thing to do at the time, a protective method to get me through difficult situations, yet each time I pushed down one of those feelings, it built.
Intense and traumatic feelings do not just disappear, they grow until they can no longer be ignored.
Great gasping sobs wrack my body, a pained wail ripping from me as I let years of grief, disappointment and betrayal.
It’s a messy process, my nose running as I cry.
My future has always been uncertain and each day could be my last, yet have the threat of Ella being harmed had put everything into perspective for me.
Now, my entire life has been flipped on its head.
Am I supposed to be grateful for this lush life that’s been granted to me?
Especially as I ‘earnt’ it by lying. I can’t do what they think I can.
As well as everything that has happened to Ella and the pain I feel, I finally allow myself to cry for me.
Perhaps it’s indulgent to give myself this time just to feel sorry for myself, yet I cannot deny that the feelings are there.
Usually, I don’t have time to worry about how I feel about anything, and just like all of the other emotions, this had built up.
Not to mention, this week has been terrifying and I have been forced into making choices I never wanted to make.
I cry so much I feel like I am falling apart, that my body is finally breaking down to match my fractured heart. Will I ever be able to put the pieces back together again?
Eventually, I run out of tears and simply lay curled up, my mind too numb to think or move. Slowly, I’m able to focus on one thing. Ella.
She’s safe. She is safe. I haven’t failed her, she is here and could thrive.
The most important thing to me is that Ella is safe and happy. If the king is true to his word, then she could have a real life here. She never has to know that I am only here because her life depends on it. However, I have completely lost any faith in the king after the lies he has told me.
“Well, you have had an interesting day.”
Jerking like I have been shot, I sit up and search the room hurriedly for the source of the voice.
Part of me automatically knows who it is, both from the tone of the voice, and a strange recognition I feel deep in my soul.
However, the rest of me is running on panic.
Who is in my room and how did they get here without me hearing them?
Looking around, I see no one. Did I imagine the voice?
Am I going mad? Frowning, I rub my eyes and search again.
Something catches my gaze from the corner of my eye, and I spin around, heart in my throat, and find Kit suspended in the air. Arms behind his head, he lounges back without a care in the world. Glancing down at me, he flashes me a grin and winks as though we are sharing a secret.
“What are you doing here?!” I hiss from between my teeth and angrily gesture for him to come down. “You are going to get caught and then both of us will be killed.”
He snorts and rolls his eyes, finding me ridiculous.
“They would have to catch me first.” Despite his arrogance, he floats down and lands lightly on the tiled floor.
For the first time, he seems to notice that we are no longer in the cells and instead in a beautiful, spacious suite.
Brows high, he whistles, looking around the room and taking in all of the fine details I have missed until now.
“This is a bit of an upgrade from your last room.”
That is an understatement considering my last ‘room’ was an underground dungeon cell.
Glancing away, I use his distraction to wipe any leftover tears from my face. I am sure that he would find it hilarious if he knew I had been crying. Do demons even know what crying is? Sensing that he is waiting for an answer, I clear my throat. “The king made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
He flashes me a look over his shoulder. “Told you.”
So arrogant. Any sadness I was feeling has well and truly disappeared, morphing into frustration as Kit lords around the room as though he owns it.
There is something about him that irritates me beyond all reason and I have no idea how he does it.
He is a demon, I should be afraid of him, not constantly wanting to throw something at him.
“Why are you here anyway?” I finally manage to blurt out. Wonderful comeback, Kiara. Embarrassment makes me flush, but I refuse to acknowledge it.
“In case you have forgotten, Kiara, I own you. I can do whatever I please, and if I want to drop in on you, then I can.” Although he still wears that smirk of his, something has changed about him.
There is a seriousness, a slight sharpness to his voice that makes the hairs on my arm stand on end.
Whatever it is, it gives me a stark reminder of my new reality.
One that I am not quite ready to acknowledge.
Snorting, I force a look of derision and hope that he plays along. “Do you really have nothing better to do than to stalk me?”
Amusement sparkles back at me and he flashes me a smouldering half-grin. “Oh, there are plenty of things I could be doing, but there is something about you. You intrigue me.”
How do I reply to that? I should not want to draw attention to myself when demons are concerned, especially not to be intriguing.
However, for some reason, there is a little part of me that is pleased about this, and I don’t think it has anything to do with him being a demon, and everything to do with him being Kit.
He could have forced the issue and made me confront what I have refused to so far; that I have sold my soul.
Stop. Don’t think about that now, not with him here.
A silence has fallen over us, but I make no rush to fill it with words.
He’s not watching me expectantly or waiting for something from me.
In fact, it feels more as though he is taking in every single detail about me, cataloguing for a later date.
Two can play at that game, and I take the time to do the same.
He has an otherworldly beauty, and even without the tattoos or the pointed ears, you could tell that he doesn’t belong in this world.
There is something about the way he carries himself, an arrogance and dangerous beauty, like petting a tiger, marvelling at its magnificence but never knowing if it will turn and savage you.
Is that what this tight, energised feeling in my chest is?
Exhilaration from the thrill of working with him?
His eyes suddenly narrow and the peaceful moment between us is gone, my body stiffening in response. “You have been crying.”
Of all the things I thought he might say, this was not one of them.
Chagrin makes me defensive and my hands automatically ball up into fists.
I could deny it, but that would be pointless when my face is still ruddy from tears.
Not to mention I was curled up on the bed in post meltdown numbness when he decided to drop in.
In fact, how is it that he’s only now just noticing?
“What of it?” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest, expecting ridicule and snide comments about weak humans.
He is in front of me in a heartbeat, his body so close we are almost touching.
Gasping I instinctively back up, but there is nowhere to go, the back of my legs pressed against the bed, trapping me in place.
The atmosphere becomes tense and I swear I see the flash of lighting from the corner of my eye, the room momentarily lighting up despite the blinds blocking our view.
Was that something to do with him? Eyes wide with the possibility, I stare into his steely grey gaze, not sure what to make of the anger I see brimming there.
“Has someone done something to you?” He sounds deadly serious, his body still, poised as though he is ready to find whoever made me cry and destroy them. In fact, I have never seen him appear so fierce.
I was expecting ridicule, and am greeted by protectiveness instead.
What is happening here? Why would it matter to him if someone had hurt me?
If he’s worried I am damaged because I ‘belong’ to him, then he can clearly see that I’m still alive and cannot use that excuse.
There will be a reason, and it will be something that works to his benefit.
Awkwardly, I rub the back of my neck and drop my gaze, unable to meet his stare any longer. “Careful, Kit. You almost sound like you care.” Laughing without humour, I try to hide how uncomfortable I am.
A heavy moment passes. Is he going to keep staring at me forever?
Is he waiting for me to say something? Wait.
There is another reason that he might not be saying anything, and that is because I’m right.
That he is acting out of concern… My eyes snap up to look into his, suspicion making me bold.
His pupils flare, but he says nothing. No, it can’t be possible, I don’t know if demons are even capable of feeling that way.
All of a sudden he’s a cyclone of motion, sweeping away from me in a dramatic motion, glancing over his shoulder at me only a moment later with a possessive grin. “Remember, you are my investment, dear. I do not like people messing with my things.”