Chapter 38 Azalea
Azalea
I pull my curls up to the top of my head and secure it with a strip of cloth. We’ve been at this for a week now, and besides what we discovered on the first day, we haven’t learned anything new about curses.
I thought I spent a lot of time reading in the library before, but it’s nothing like the hours that Braxton and I have poured into it as of late.
I’ve long since swapped the gorgeous gowns that I used to wear every day for a more relaxed style.
It’s not that I don’t love the dresses, but I learned very quickly that the boning of the corsets does not pair well with being hunched over a book all day.
While I’m not learning anything new about curses, I am learning a lot about Braxton that I didn’t know.
For starters, he has an insatiable sweet tooth.
I reached over and took a bite of the cookie he brought in for himself one day, and I thought he was going to obliterate me right there on the spot.
He also, more notably, is not a dog person, which isn’t a huge surprise given that he’s tried to kick Luna out of the library almost every day this past week.
What I didn’t expect to discover was that he loves cats.
On one of the days when he was being particularly barbaric to Luna, I told him that as long as I’m in the castle, it’s going to be filled with animals, and he told me he wouldn’t mind if I brought in a cat and left the dog outside.
I didn’t expect to hate learning more about Braxton. I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve wanted to find bits and pieces out about him to use against him, but now it’s done something completely unexpected. It’s made him more human to me. And that is something that can’t happen.
“Have you seen this?” Braxton asks.
I crane my neck to look at the book he has sprawled in front of him. I’ve been trying to keep my distance, knowing nothing good can come from letting myself get any closer to him. That became painfully apparent when he tossed me over his shoulder, and the act practically drenched my underwear.
“What does it say?” I ask, finally giving up on being able to read his book from where I’m sitting.
With a smirk, Braxton reaches forward, grabbing the front leg of my chair, and drags it closer to him. His rich, leathery scent immediately engulfs me, bringing me back to the night we kissed.
Sky’s Divine that fucking kiss. I’ve tried to push it from my mind every day.
I’ve tried to imagine kissing Phillip instead.
I’ve tried to weigh my conscious down with guilt at knowing I have an amazing fiancé who is waiting for me back at home, but nothing is working.
I can’t stop thinking about how perfect Braxton’s body felt molded against mine, or the sensation that ran through me at the feeling of his soft lips skating across my skin.
It makes me despise myself. It makes me despise him.
“Azalea?” His breath tickles my ear, and I have to physically stop the shiver that wants to run down my spine.
My eyes refuse to focus on the words in front of me, and I can feel him lean closer.
“Something distracting you?” I look up into his gloating smile and feel the comfortable familiarity of a flaming anger rise inside me.
He’s doing this on purpose. He’s messing with my head. Of course, just like everything else, this is all a game to him. My life is a fucking game to him. I don’t know what his goal is yet, but I know it can’t be good. I never should’ve agreed to help him.
Scooting my chair back, I stand from the table. “What’s this game you’re playing?” I snap.
“Game?” He has the audacity to look confused.
“Yes, game. You’re trying to get inside my head, and I want to know why.”
“If I’m inside your head, Wildflower, it’s because you want me there.” He pushes away from the table and stands so that he towers over me. A classic Braxton move, but I meet his gaze, refusing to back down.
I laugh bitterly at his words, and he takes a step toward me. I step back. I can’t have his stupid, intoxicating scent distracting me again.
“You’re lying,” I snarl.
“And why would I do that?”
“Just because I don’t know why you do the heinous things you do doesn’t mean I’m wrong, and it doesn’t make you any less of a monster.” I watch my words hit their mark. His once cordial demeanor evaporating.
“And what heinous things are you referring to?”
“For starters, you’ve trapped me here.”
He steps toward me again, and I step back.
“What else?” He takes another prowling step closer.
“You pulled me away from the fiancé whom I love.”
He snorts. “Right. That’s why you had your tongue down my throat the other night.”
I fume and stop stepping away from him. I’m not going to let him treat me like I’m his prey and he’s my predator. Fueled by my defiance, I take a step toward him. “That isn’t what happened,” I snarl through clenched teeth.
“Are you sure? I thought you had a fuzzy memory of the night. Would you like me to refresh it?”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I thought I was a monster.”
“You’re both.”
“And yet you still kissed me.”
Before I can think through what I’m doing, I raise my hand high in the air and strike him across the face.
To my memory, I’ve never hit anyone. I know I should feel some semblance of shock from my actions.
The person I was before I became tethered to this castle would be appalled.
But I’m not that person anymore. When I see his skin tinge red where my palm met his cheek, a sick satisfaction fills me.
He tilts his face back to look at me, and I’m stunned to see that he’s smiling. It’s somehow haughty and frustratingly alluring. What is wrong with him? What is wrong with me?
“Careful, Wildflower. If you start trying to draw blood, I’m going to take that as your version of foreplay.”
I grind my teeth. “Is that supposed to scare me?”
“No. It’s supposed to intrigue you, and I can see that it’s working.”
I wish he were wrong. I wish the thought of me digging my nails into his shoulders so hard it drew blood while he plowed deeper and deeper into me didn’t send a rush of heat to my core.
The desire of my nails marking his skin, leaving him with a reminder of what I can do to him, has my body thrumming.
“What are you thinking about right now?” His tone is husky as his eyes flick between my lust-filled ones.
“Making you bleed.” I don’t recognize the raspy voice that leaves me.
“Flirting with me now, are we, Azalea?”
The sound of my name leaving his lips sends a shock to my system, and I can feel my panties dampening between my legs.
“Just living out my deepest fantasies of killing you,” I snark, though my voice sounds breathless.
“Go ahead, then.” Braxton tilts his chin back and exposes his neck to me. I see the swirled patterns of one of his tattoos peeking around the back and side of his neck, and I’m overcome with the desire to latch my lips onto the ink.
Blinking rapidly, I try to clear my head of the fog of lust looming over me.
“I think we’ve studied enough today.” My voice is clipped. I try to turn away from him, but my feet refuse to move.
“Then go,” he teases, a knowing smirk filling his face.
We’re standing nose to nose, our breath mingling together with how close we are. I should step away. I should walk out of this library and get as far away from him as I can. I know that’s what I should do. And I hate myself for not wanting to.
He tips his head down, his breath brushing across my lips as he says, “How long are you going to deny that you want me just as badly as I want you?”
His words snap something inside of me, and bringing my hands up to his chest, I shove him away.
“Want?” I let out a humorless laugh. “What I want, Braxton, is my old life back.” I shake my head because those words aren’t true enough. “I want my old self back. I want to be the person I was before I came to this skyforsaken castle.”
For a moment, a look akin to anguish flashes across his features, but then he squares his shoulders and slips his hands in his pockets, his usual mask of indifference taking root across his face. “What is so different about you now?”
His eyes are imploring as he asks his question, as if he wants to give me whatever he feels I’m missing. A mirthless bellow of laughter explodes out of me, and I try to run my fingers through my hair, only getting more frustrated when they tangle in my curls.
“For starters, I used to be happy.” My honesty strikes a chord deep inside me, and it forces tears of anger to brim my eyes.
“I—” I shake my head, trying to gather my thoughts.
“I used to smile, I used to… enjoy things. I used to trust people and now have to constantly wonder if someone was scheming against me.” I take a deep breath before revealing my next truth.
“I used to look forward to waking up.” I drop my head, breaking my stare with Braxton.
That level of honesty is too painful to share while looking into his eyes.
“I hate the person I’ve become from you chaining me to this castle.
” My voice sounds like shattered glass, spraying across the floor between us and keeping us from stepping closer to one another.
“You think I like it any better?” His voice is filled with enough emotion to get me to look at him. “You think I like losing more and more pieces of myself with every day I’m tormented to be in this castle with you?”
“I torment you?”
He steps closer to me and clasps my chin in his hand. “Relentlessly.”
“Then why?” I sound pitiful, but I can’t muster up enough energy to care at this point.
“I can’t tell you that.”
I rip my chin from his grasp. I want to scream.
I want to actually shatter every decoration and piece of furniture in this room, throwing it between us so the obliterated shards scatter the grounds at our feet.
I wonder then if he would still find it worth it to keep stepping closer to me.
If he would find the pain worth it. Because that’s what being near him is for me.
It’s painful in a myriad of ways that leave me unsure of what I should think or feel.
Instead, I try to inflict a personalized brand of agony on him with my words.
“I miss the person I was. But she can’t coexist in the world you’ve imprisoned me to. You’ve ruined me.” I take one shaky breath before delivering my final blow. “And I will never stop hating you for it. And I will never stop trying to escape you.”
He blinks, silence engulfing the words I spilled between us. Then, to my utter surprise, he scoffs. “Well, get in line Wildflower,” he grumbles, never taking his eyes from mine. “Because I hate myself for trapping us in this castle together, too.”
His words only encourage the fury of frustration roiling inside of me.
I feel as though I’m going to become consumed by this unadulterated hate.
With every barbed word or jabbed insult, it festers further inside my soul.
I need a release. I need to get it out of my body. It’s devouring me, swallowing me whole.
My blazing eyes lift to find Braxton, studying me, and it’s like he knows exactly what I need before I do.
“Use me.” It’s both an offering and a command.
“I- I don’t…” My brain has become incapable of discerning right from wrong.
It’s as though every emotion inside of me has been set free. I’m angry. I’m devastated. I’m horrified with who I’ve become. I’m sad. I’m lonely. I’m craving human affection to take away this unstoppable ache inside of me.
Braxton steps closer to me and roughly pulls my body to his. My chest slams into his rigid torso, and he pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger before lifting my face so that my only choice is to stare at him.
“Take it out on me, Wildflower. Use me.”
“I fucking hate you.” And those are my last words before I let every logical thought slip from my mind and slam my lips against his.