Chapter 38 Scarlett
Scarlett
I didn’t want to marry him.
It’s all I could think about.
I wanted him to be obsessed with me, haunted by me, so terribly, I spent years trying to get his attention, never considering that this would happen. That there was even a possibility that he could be my betrothed, and now?
Now all I could think about was what would change after the ceremony. He claimed his lust was different, but I felt a different kind of lust today. The lust of rage, of hatred. All Azrael felt was rage. I saw it every time I looked into his eyes.
Rage.
Quiet, deadly.
The kind of rage that brought kings to their knees.
His cock got hard just like the others. He was being kind, but Thomas had been too.
Thomas had bought me gifts. He had brought me clothes and candy and sometimes even a toy, only to lash me when I misbehaved.
His Wonderland seemed like a dream but so had Thomas’ in the beginning.
I stared out the window, watching those people walk around as if they were somehow free.
Free of the laws of the church. Free to live and dress and be without worry of lashings, but I knew the truth. They were all Favorites. Probably controlled by the man Azrael wanted to find.
The man who took away my ability to make babies.
I had never wanted babies. Not when I really thought about it. I didn’t want to put my children into a world so cruel, and after Thomas said what he would do with them, it only solidified those feelings.
But the delusion of the choice should have been mine.
My jaw still hurt, as did my head where they had pulled out my hair.
My face still pulsed in pain, my arms, my hands, my knees.
It all hurt, but on the inside, all I felt was anger.
Azrael said I had power. The power to draw blood, just like him, the power to stand by his side in his politics and manipulate and control, but how could I possibly do that to people who controlled something so… so big?
How could he?
I glanced over to him, finding his eyes trained on the road, one hand gripped on the wheel, the other resting on the thing between us that made the car go forward or into reverse. I think it was called a ‘shifter’, but I couldn’t remember clearly enough to know for sure.
His hand was wrapped in thin white gauze, covering the cut I had made.
Me.
A nothing.
A girl who only had one purpose until he changed it. A girl who had seen only shoes until he forced my eyes up. I had held that blade and sliced his hand.
I had touched myself to visions of him while he watched.
I had learned to talk.
I didn’t want to marry him because I didn’t want to marry at all, but if I thought about everything he had given me, the thought of marrying him didn’t seem so terrifying. Perhaps I was just angry at the life I had wasted being forced to be silent, passive, and obedient.
Even if he did change into something crueler, wasn’t it worth everything else?
I hoped things remained as they were, but I think…I think I could handle it if it changed.
He told me to let it fester, to learn control and feel my power, but I suppose another component of that was to learn where to direct it.
He finally glanced over, feeling my eyes on him, his features still shifted into something other. Something colder, more volatile. He wasn’t the same man he had been this morning.
Just like yesterday before he found out about my ovaries; he was different, and then he changed into something more hysterical before quickly changing back.
He hadn’t changed back yet today, but I was okay with that. Even in this state, I’d much rather be alone with him than alone with anyone else in the world.
Including the God they spoke about in the Good Book.
I turned back to the window. I was glad Azrael gave me a voice. Even if he killed me, even if he lashed me to pieces, I would always be grateful for that, but right now, I felt anything but.
I didn’t want to talk.
I didn’t want to think or move or do anything.
I just wanted to sit until the pain went away. I wanted to be left alone.
If I was truly the Queen of Hearts, I should be able to demand that without repercussions from anyone, let alone my Hatter. I was sure of it. Wasn’t that what he was trying to teach me? That I had the ability to choose. I wanted to choose to be left alone.
“I’m taking you to my doctor,” Azrael announced after a minute or so.
I continued to stare out the window without revealing a thing. I knew what the doctor meant. They were going to put their fingers inside of me to check me for whatever information they needed. Fingers in my pussy, fingers in my mouth, cold utensils that hurt everywhere they touched.
“After that, I’ll return you to that house. You will not see me again until next Sunday. I assume you know how the service will work.”
There wouldn’t be a service. I would be picked up by one of the women Pillars, a trusted one, and taken to the Back Hall directly. I would be changed into whatever Azrael wanted me to wear before I was delivered back to the stage where we were to be wed by Pastor Masters.
I had seen many weddings in my past. I knew what was expected of me.
“This doctor is not affiliated with the church,” he went on, causing my eyes to shift back towards him, although I remained still. “This doctor is not affiliated with my family either. He was picked by me. Only a handful of people even know of his existence in my life. I trust him.”
My eyes shifted to my hands. Azrael didn’t trust anyone.
I returned my attention to the road and watched the world go by far faster than I was used to. We drove for a long time. Longer than I had ever been in the car before.
He finally pulled into a parking lot and parked. He put on a beautiful porcelain mask, one corner of it broken off, the cracks fissuring up across the jaw. It had two small horns at the top, the smile stretching from ear to ear, the teeth sharp. It was hauntingly beautiful, just like him.
My eyes fell towards our feet as we headed for the building.
This time, however, it wasn’t because I had to.
It was partially out of habit, and partially because this was a new place.
I didn’t know how many cracks there were in the sidewalk or how many lines.
I didn’t know where the grass would start on the edges or if there would be flowers. I didn’t know anything.
We walked across the short parking lot to a sidewalk that had only 10 lines in it and no cracks. On either side of us were white and gray smooth stones and shrubs. Not a flower to be seen.
I was disappointed that there were no flowers.
Azrael opened the door to the building, and I was immediately met with the scent of vanilla and cleanliness.
I stepped into the cool room, soft music playing in the background, causing me to pause. It was beautiful. A woman was singing, and there was soft piano music. Her voice was angelic.
I couldn’t help the way my eyes closed or how my chin lifted as the music drifted through the room, filling my soul in an unfamiliar way. The notes drifted around my mind, her voice soothing.
A moment later, the music grew louder, the sound wrapping around me in a warm embrace.
When the song eventually faded away, another soon began. My eyes opened, emotion filling me fully. I swallowed, my eyes finding Azrael’s.
His gaze was unreadable, that strange look in his eyes gone for something different. “Sorry by Halsey.”
A song that wasn’t about the god they worshiped, but about the love that didn’t exist. The way she sang about it…it seemed like she believed in it.
Why did she believe in it? Didn’t she know what love was? I had seen it so many times in so many different ways, and all I felt towards the idea of love was hatred.
“This way.”
I blinked, followed his gesture to a door that sat on the far right side of a big open window. I looked around the room quickly as my feet led me to the door. Lots of chairs, a fake tree, blue carpet, magazines.
I paused when I saw those. I had heard about them, but I was never allowed to have any. There were people on the cover. Men and women. I wondered why they deserved to be on the cover. They weren’t any prettier than Azrael. What had they done that was so important to get them there?
Azrael opened the door, the hallway stretching out before me. “He knows we’re coming,” he said, walking by me. “This way.”
I folded my hands in front of me, squeezing them together tightly, wincing at the pain it caused. I watched Azrael get ahead of me, stopping in front of a door near the end of the hall, opening it, and finally looking back at me.
I felt that fear fill me, shutting me down, wrapping around my lungs, forcing my eyes down. The steps to Azrael were slow and agonizing, and the second I saw his shoes, I stopped, knowing I was in that doorway.
Azrael trusted him, but I had been to many doctors.
More than I could count. Ones that Thomas trusted, ones Pastor Masters had trusted, ones the wives of the Pillars had trusted.
They had all done the same things. All of them.
What made this one so special? Was Azrael already changing?
We were to be married in one week, and he was already showing his true colors.
“Scarlett, this is Doctor Manson.”
“Hello, Scarlett,” I heard him say.
His voice was older. Not as old as the Leaders voices, but older than Azrael’s. It was kind, soft, warm, and he called me by my name. None of the church’s doctors called me that.
The silence lasted four Mississippi’s. “Why don’t you stay, Z.”
Z. A nickname. Maybe it was because of his assignments. He had given his friends nicknames to protect them, perhaps he had given the doctor a nickname instead of his name to protect himself.
Azrael stepped into the room and looked back, waiting.
I could feel a chill slither down my neck as I stepped in after him. I had never been in this room before, so making my way over to the table was a little difficult, but neither of them said a word.