Chapter 37 #2
How many times did we do it? I feel so unwell, like the life’s been sapped out of me. Every muscle aches, and my vagina feels like it’s been through a shredder. Then lit on fire. It burns.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself as much as I did.” He props his chin on his elbow. After a moment’s pause, his pleasant expression drops, reversing itself. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I answer too quickly. “I think I’m just, um, still recovering from being sick. And very sore. Could you possibly get me some water? Maybe some food, too?”
“Right, yes. You must be famished. That is most insensitive of me.” He crawls out of bed, baring his naked ass to me before putting on some loose trousers. “I’ll be back promptly.”
After he leaves the room, I count to ten, then barrel out of bed.
I come so close to fainting from that idiotic maneuver. Black spots consume my vision, my ears ring, and I slump against the side of the bed in a last-second effort to keep from hitting my head.
Breathing deeply, I slide all the way down to the floor.
It takes me a moment to recollect myself, and though it’s a struggle to keep from vomiting, I warily spread my legs open to investigate.
The gaps in my memories, the marriage, the sickness…
and now there’s dried blood between my thighs.
Blood in the most private of places, and I have zero recollection of how it got there.
This is wrong.
I might be hyperventilating, but it helps counteract the faintness, at least. Making sure to stand up very slowly, I sweep the room with my eyes. Clothes. I need my clothes.
Where the fuck did they go?
I know for a fact that they came off when I was still in the gym, even if the rest of the night is a black hole.
Abaddon could have, and probably did, fly me through the Abyss while I was fully naked. And there’s a significant number of angels in this city that could have seen me, too.
At what point did he fuck me until I was raw and bleeding? Was I conscious? Was he about to do it again before I woke up—whether or not I woke at all?
I… I have to be mistaken. This isn’t that. It can’t be. I’ve lost my memory of it, but surely I was coherent at the time. Surely I consented. Abaddon wouldn’t do… that.
With a few wobbly steps, I make it to his armoire and rip it open.
The first thing I find is a long-sleeve, button-up linen shirt, and I attempt to put it on—but the second I try to lift my arms over my head, my muscles immediately cry out in pain.
That’s not going to happen. I have to lose a few more seconds to unbutton it, slip it over my arms, and re-button it.
Hurry. He’s coming.
I dig around, frantically, for something to cover my bare bottom. All I can find are his stupid trousers that are entirely too long for me, but at least they’re not too tight on my firecrotch. With a few twists of the extra fabric, I manage to get them to stay on—
Just in time for Abaddon to walk back into the room, pushing a servant cart full of food. His head cocks to the side as he takes me in. “I could have gotten you some more appropriate clothes.”
“Could you just, like, magic this into something that fits a bit better?” I ask, trying not to sound too hasty.
Food and water sound amazing, and I might have to stop for a few minutes to get some down, but I need to get out of this room.
Just being in here is making me sick to my stomach, and worst of all, I don’t even know why.
Air brushes around me for a brief second, changing my clothes into an Abaddon version of my regular training apparel. I look down at the outfit, about to mutter some half-assed thank you, but then I feel a tug on my soul.
He’s fucking with my soul.
“You’re distressed,” he comments, confirming my suspicions. “Why?”
My eyes flash up to him, alight in anger. “I would prefer you not do that.”
“I am only trying to understand what you’re feeling since you will not tell me what’s wrong.”
“I just need some space, okay?” I snap back, stalking towards the food—but I stumble in the process, nearly fainting from dizziness again.
Abaddon’s at my side with impossible speed, swooping me into his arms and carrying me to the bed. Within seconds, I’m lying down again. In this fucking bed.
Get out. Need to get out!
“Eat,” he commands, handing me a breakfast croissant. “Your blood sugar is very low.”
“Is it really,” I mutter idly, snatching the bread from him.
“Yes.”
As I take a few ravenous bites, he fetches the rest of the platter, bringing it to the bed. Unfortunately, I can’t eat fast enough to keep him from talking.
“Since your attempts to control your powers haven’t been successful here in the Abyss, I was thinking of taking you to the Academy for a while.”
“In Elohim?” That could be a better option than being stuck here with him, alone.
“Yes. There are also many public places where we could have our wedding when we get there. It would be the perfect opportunity for a show of power before we put you anywhere near the Populus.”
Don’t puke, don’t puke, don’t puke.
I swallow hard, then chug some water. “Okay. When do we leave?”
“As soon as you’d like.”
“Today, then. But can you get someone to heal me first?”
“Heal you?”
Is he playing dumb, or does he really not know how bad of shape I’m in? “Yes, Abaddon. You destroyed my lady parts. It hurts to walk.”
His eyes flick towards my lower half, displeased. “Is that really necessary? I don’t want someone else to feel you there.”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“It’s magic,” I gawk at him. “They wouldn’t see or touch me!”
“It is still an extension of the user. Perhaps we could take a break for a day or so, while you heal naturally. Now that you are immortal, your healing should be accelerated.”
“It is necessary, and I’m not arguing this with you.” Just listening to him right now is making me feel ill beyond all measure.
His frown turns into an outright scowl. “If it means you will recover faster, then fine. I will allow it, however reluctantly.”
For one, my physical recovery has little to do with how repulsed I am by the thought of having sex with him again in the foreseeable future. And for two, I don’t need his goddamn permission to receive medical care.
“Great,” is all I say, gritting my teeth.
And then there’s that tug again on me. Jesus, was it always so obvious? I can’t snap at him fast enough, vehemently enough, “Stop voyeuring my emotions.”
“I wouldn’t be forced to if you’d just be honest with me,” he huffs, somehow making it my fault that he can’t respect a boundary I just told him not to cross. “I’ve angered you. How?”
“Get the healer.”
“Why will you not tell me what I’ve done to make you angry?”
“Get the healer, now, and I’ll consider it.” I will not be fucking considering it. “And I’ll have the procedure done in my own room.”
“No. I will watch to ensure they do not act inappropriately. We will do it here, in our quarters.” Our quarters? “That is my condition for allowing such an intrusion of privacy.”
I’m not much of a tongue-biter, but I do hold my breath. Dealing with him right now is taking every bit of my self-control; I am stifling so much unbidden rage. But if I want to get out of this city as quickly as possible, I need this. I have to choose my battles.
“That’s very...” Disgustingly controlling of you. “Considerate of my safety. Fine, we’ll do it here. Together. But immediately, okay? It hurts.”
His eyebrows scrunch together, giving me a pitying look, which is exactly what I was going for. “I am sorry, my love. I never intended to hurt you.”
It’s not okay. Nothing about this is okay.
“It’s okay.” I fake a smile. “I’ll be fine after this.”
“I will be right back. Please, rest.”
My eyelids become heavy, and a yawn slips out of me, though I wasn’t tired moments ago. It’s wrong and unnatural. Panic rises in me. “I’m fine. Really.”
Abaddon leans over me, and my whole body freezes up, paralyzed with dread.
“Rest,” he repeats, placing a wet kiss on my forehead. “I love you, my beautiful queen.”
No!—
Before I can say a word, I lose consciousness.