Chapter 12
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule twelve: When cornered by a psychopath, call another psychopath for help.
Leon isn’t leaving my room. Instead, he’s leaning against the frame of our adjoining door and staring at me with hooded eyes.
I have the distinct feeling that having his masculinity challenged at dinner splintered the last of his patience.
I don’t love this for me.
“You did so well today, pet,” he says, pushing away from the doorframe and stepping into my space. “I think this is working. We’re really finding ourselves. Why, we haven’t fought once today. You’re settling into your role as my betrothed.”
He only stops when he’s standing directly before me.
I might have an aneurysm from the force of trying not to roll my eyes. Of course, Leon is happy with my behavior and how well we are getting along. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I’m forcibly silenced. I’m pretty sure I could be replaced by a blow-up doll, and he wouldn’t notice.
Before I can agree that the distance is certainly helping, and that I’m looking forward to continuing down that path, his eyes drop to my lips.
“You are such a good girl.”
Oh, absolutely not.
I start coughing hard enough to look like I’m about to hack up a lung. Leon steps back, and I start pounding on my chest.
“Sorry about that,” I say when I have my impromptu fit back under control. “I uhm… choked on my spit.”
A flash of annoyance crosses his face, but he masks it in a heartbeat. “As I was saying, you have been such a good girl, and good girls get rewarded.”
I almost gag, but don’t feel true panic until he starts to lower to his knees. That’s when I realize what he’s trying to do.
“Leon, stop!” I yell, not even trying to hide my alarm.
Again, he pauses, his irritated gaze meeting mine.
I hold on to that pause like a lifeline. “This is uhm… this is too soon for me. I know the temptation is just so… so overwhelmingly strong. But we have an eternity, right? Don’t you agree we should make sure we’re starting it off on the right foot?”
His jaw flexes and whatever mask he was holding onto shatters.
Shoving up from the floor, he throws his hands into the air in clear frustration.
“I wasn’t going to fuck you, Vivian. I’m well aware you aren’t ready for that.
I was trying to show you how selfless I can be, and pleasure you.
I wasn’t even going to make you return the favor. ”
He sounds equal parts exasperated and frustrated that his act of ‘kindness’ wasn’t well-received.
For the millionth time, I know I shouldn’t be surprised, and yet here we are.
“Wow. You are just, uhm… I have no words,” I manage to stammer.
“I know,” Leon says with a self-sacrificing sigh, clearly thinking that was a compliment.
Still, I’m taking this as a win, because rather than approaching me again, he starts pacing.
“I have been exceedingly generous with you. I have given you space to think, shown you that I can control myself, and that I can protect you. You at least owe me something–” he stops and waves an arm at my body, “in return for my efforts.” With that, something in his face changes, like he’s made a decision. He strides back toward me.
Why am I my own worst jinx?
“But–” I start.
“No. You can’t keep pushing me away. Not when we are destined for each other.
How can we mend our relationship if you won’t even let me touch you?
Your idea isn’t working. It’s time to try something else.
Don’t be stubborn about this.” His hand fists into my hair, and he uses it to pull me against him.
“I’ve been patient, Vivian. I’ve done everything you asked.
Try to be at least a little grateful. You owe me this. ”
I shake my head, both to tell him no and to force back the black rings starting to line my vision.
Leon shushes me softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it good for you. You’ll thank me for this later.”
The feeling of cold metal against my arm is the only thing that stops the panic from fully overtaking me – my dinner knife.
‘If you pull the knife, all your chances of escaping will be forfeit,’ Cassandra’s memory warns.
I swallow, knowing she’s right. The knife is plan Z, but fear is scrambling my thoughts, and I’m struggling to come up with plans A to Y.
Leon’s teeth graze along my neck, and his other hand trails down my side.
“COUPLES THERAPY!” I all but shout the words like they’re the answer to my prayers.
His hand stills, and he frowns at me, confused.
I push on, ignoring the tremble in my voice, “You’re right. I… I need help. And in the Mortal Realm, when couples can’t fix things alone, they use a therapist. I think we should try couples therapy.”
Leon looks suspicious and doesn’t release me.
I lay it on even thicker, “You hit the nail on the head. We’ve spent time together, but I’m usually muzzled by the leash, and I haven’t been able to really talk to you… about the things in my heart. I’ve been such a coward about addressing my feelings. I think… I think I need help.”
“–from a mortal,” I add, as a panicked afterthought. The last thing I need is to get stuck in a room with one of Need’s goons. “They’ll understand my emotions better and help us have the conversations we need,” I finish, trying to look earnest.
“Do you believe a ‘therapist’ will help you accept our bond?” Leon still doesn’t look convinced.
“Absolutely,” I answer without hesitation.
Finally, his hold on me loosens, and he steps back. He brings a hand to his chin, looking both frustrated and confused.
I assume this conversation is pushing the boundaries of his emotional intelligence.
“I suppose you have spent a great deal of our time unable to speak. While I find you more agreeable when you’re silent, I can see how that may be negatively affecting your self-expression.
” He sighs before continuing, “Very well, if you believe it will speed things along, I’ll have a guard fetch a therapist. I will also allow you to speak more freely.
” His gaze shifts to my lips. “I assume you already know what will happen if you use this new freedom irresponsibly.”
His assurance should calm me. Naturally, I panic instead.
I would appreciate it if Leon and I could shift to fighting over email. At least then I could use my brain before blurting the first thing that crosses my mind. Because if the guards drag in some random terrified mortal, they’ll just say whatever Leon wants to hear to get out of this.
That won’t work. I need someone who won’t bend to outside pressure. They need to look the part and be intelligent enough to catch on that I’m in trouble. And then, they need to be crazy enough to go toe-to-toe with all-powerful creatures.
What I need is a smart, professional-looking psychopath.
Since I only know one psychopath, my options are limited.
“Leon, if we want this to work, and in such a short period, then we need the best of the best,” I urge.
His brow lifts. “Of course. You know of a therapist who is suited for the job?”
I nod. “I do. If we want to make any progress, then only one man will do.” I swallow, hoping I’m forgiven for this. “His name is Dr. Parnard.”