Chapter 28
Thealina
“Sweet, Gods have mercy.”
I can only imagine I must look like a naked rabbit in a bear’s trap. The heated stare on Rafe’s face scorches my skin. It’s not my Rafe. It’s Rafe from before I met him. The Chronicle from months ago, detailing a series of shop break-ins, hangs limp in his hands.
“Who are you? You shouldn’t be here.” He drops the paper down and stands, his eyes locking onto mine.
You’re future travel companion. And I know!
But this Rafe hasn’t taken the linking serum. He can’t hear me. I do the only thing I can think of doing; raise my palm and show my mark. I also split my index finger off, making what I think is a peace sign.
Pretend you never saw me.
I don’t hear the laugh that appears to erupt from his chest before I’m being dragged away through time again. The wooden walls of his office dissolve as new walls erect around me.
Calm down, Thea. The more panic, the worse the jumps.
Think, Thea, think.
I don’t have time to think as another familiar environment fleshes out in front of me. The world rebuilds itself, the scent of old oak and candle wax stinging my nose. I know this place. Too well.
Grey eyes stare back at me. Wide and alarmed. A trickle of sweat beads down the side of her—my—face.
“We travelled?” She says, or I say. I don’t know, it’s weird. She’s me, but she isn’t. And she can speak. Her tongue hasn’t been mutilated yet.
I don’t think about the consequences when I open my mouth wide and show what lays at the back of my throat. Her gasp is haunting. She covers her mouth with her hands, horror filling her eyes.
“Sweetpea?”
My body freezes. Sticky, cold fear drips down my spine like the edge of a razor scraping against tender flesh. My heart thunders. That voice.
My husband’s voice.
Time tugs again; in a moment I’ll disappear and leave her in the hands of our abuser. The room blurs, and in a quick-thinking moment I point to my mouth, then at the door at our husband’s footsteps.
I jump.
Winded breaths draw into my panicked lungs. My heart and chest in agony, my stomach twists and turns as though a demon rips apart my womb and I fall to my knees. Cold stone bites into my skin as fatigue grips me.
Stone floors. Dust motes flittering between the stench of wet, burnt wood.
I gasp for breath. The tears stream down my face.
Gods, I want to go home.
I want Rafe.
“Shhh. It’s ok. You’re ok. Breath.”
I lunge forward, my arms slinging around Mallory’s petite shoulders.
Right now, in the castle chapel, with the dead Princess laying on the altar, she’s the only ally I have.
“Listen carefully, Thealina,” she whispers, gripping the sides of my face, wiping the tears from both eyes to clear my vision.
She’s so beautiful, her eyes so familiar.
“You are jumping with your heart not your mind. Stop running.” Her firm tone gives me pause. Running? “You’re not running from Rafe or your husband.” I narrow my brows. “You’re running from yourself,” she finishes, giving me a small smile that reeks of sorrow.
The demons in my womb shred me from the inside out, and I blow out a breath, my top lip perspiring and my skin slick with sweat.
“Think of the place you feel safe. And go.”
Light steps come from down the corridor. Steps that sound an awfully lot like mine the night I stole the Taka.
Safe. Where do I feel safe.
Safe.
Go where I feel safe, go where I feel safe, go where I feel safe.
The walls blur, my body and mind feeling the familiar tug of time and I close my eyes. Safe. Go where I feel safe.
My knees hit hard floor. A choked gasp sounds to my left.
“Lina! Fuck!”
‘Rafe,’ I sob, praying to all the Gods this Rafe is my Rafe.
“I’m here, baby, you’re ok.” His strong arms wrap around my bare skin before I’m lifted off the floor and cradled to his chest. “I got you, you’re ok.” He runs soothing stokes down my hair. “Fuck, Lina. You’re bleeding.”
I’m bleeding? Where?
My vision clears enough to see crimson stain my flesh, my thighs, and my stomach clenches once more as Rafe carries me to the bathroom.
My womb squeezes and I let out a pained groan.
No, Gods, not now. I don’t deserve anymore mortification.
The colour drains from my skin, it leaves my body as more sweat drips down my back, causing me to shudder.
Rafe places me on the corner of the bath.
He kneels, rummaging through his cabinets as noise turns static.
“At least he prepared me for this,” he mutters. “He’s good for some things huh.”
I don’t know who he’s talking of or to, himself no doubt, but my body sways, my knuckles stark white as I cling on waiting for this hot flush to pass. My body grows tired, only sounds filtering in.
Water sloshing. Rustling of packaging. A cork popping.
A cloth is placed in my palm—wet and warm. Rafe cups my hand that holds the cloth, moving me to my thighs, helping me clean myself.
“This normal? This amount of blood?”
‘Huh?’
“Your cycle.”
My cycle? Yes, my cycle. Fuck, my brain is dazed, thick with pain, drowning in fatigue. It suffocates me. Threatens to pull me under, my eyes so heavy I can’t lift them.
‘I only bleed for a day,’ I pant. ‘Then… it stops.’
A pained groan vibrates in my chest and my head falls to the side. The heat of Rafe’s arm around my waist only serves to elevate my temperature more, burning me from the inside out.
“Open your mouth.”
I do. No energy left to question it. I put my trust in him to take care of me when I need it most. Trust not easily given in my vulnerable state. Not when I’ve been let down by the one man I should have been able to trust the most.
Bitter liquid splashes my stump, I quickly swallow.
“For the pain. Might make you a little woozy.”
Too late for that, I’m already minutes from passing out.
More rustles and fabric scrape against both ankles. Rafe slides it up my calves, grips my waist to haul me up against him and pulls the fabric the rest of the way up my thighs.
Panties… and a pad. The bulgy material awkwardly laying against my most intimate parts.
My head thumps against his chest, and my legs are swept out from under me. We’re on the move again. Cold fabric brushes my back as gravity takes a hold of my body. My head seeps into a plush pillow smelling of spicy orange, my eyelids even heavier, my brain foggy and my tired limbs weak and feeble.
“I got you, baby, you’re safe. Sleep.”
I hear the mumblings of Rafe, soft and sure, just like the lips that press into my temple. And for the first time in days, my body gives in.
One last thought flicks through my dazed mind.
‘Your woman is out there thinking about you. And here I am, bleeding and broken in your bed.’