Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Water washes over my shoulders, bushing my hair away from my face. I stopped tracking my days. All it did was torment me into realizing how long I’d been here for.
“Yes.” Steam from the shower melts across my face as I scrub the blood off my belly. “He was especially moody, too.”
Vaden grabs the towel on the rack and hands it to me. “He talked to you in the room?”
I turn off the water and step into the warmth of cotton. “Yes. Not that he talks to me outside of it, but at least it’s tolerable.” If I calculated enough, which I know I haven’t, it’s been about a week since.
Vaden disappears behind the cupboard before popping back up, pouring alcohol into a towel and dabbing it over my belly. “Block it out.” If only it were that simple. If only it were that easy.
Taking it from him, I place it on the counter as we both stand in silence. Every muscle in my body aches.
“He’s gotten worse…” Vaden whispers. He has visited me every night this week. Sometimes for ten minutes, others it’s for hours. He has become the habit that I rely on to keep me company when the walls cave in.
Vaden slips my gown over my head, and I pull my hair out from under it when the silk falls to my upper thigh. He seems more stressed than usual tonight.
“Sorry you have to go through this. If it makes you feel better, we’re all going through similar things. Maybe not the exact same, but it’s prepping us for what’s to come.”
It didn’t make me feel better. It made me feel lonelier.
I miss River.
With a silent click of the door, I’m once again trapped in the belly of a monster. Only now, my skin doesn’t prickle. The tentacles of fear barely brush my mind as my feet carry me down the path they’ve walked so many times.
The air becomes tighter with every step. Like visiting an old friend, every time I return, I notice something different, like the trailing perfume of vanilla musk and cedarwood. Flames burn rays of orange in the corner, igniting the scribbles of white over the walls.
“You’re late, Madness.” Darkness only intensifies the harsh lines on his face as he looks at me. I didn’t think he could hate me more than he already does, but the weeks proved me wrong.
“I didn’t mean to. I slept in.”
He doesn’t answer, but his head angles an inch, enough to expose the vein on the side of his neck. Even in a hoodie, I can see it. “In where?”
“In where, what?” My confusion only causes him to harden.
I wince.
“Where did you sleep?” My toes curl against the carpet when the temperature drops.
“In a bed.” I’m being cocky for someone who’s about one smart comment away from adding to my bruise count.
Pause. “In whose bed?”
My fingernails pinch the inside of my palm. “Mine.”
His eyes narrow. It’s only brief, and if his eye-fucking hadn’t trapped me, I would have missed it. “Yes. You are.” Standing to his full height, he reaches behind his hoodie and pulls it off. My breath catches in my throat. I don’t want him to think I find him attractive, even if I do. What kind of person would find a monster attractive? Another one, that’s who. It’s hard to ignore when the genetics of gods have forged you into literal perfection.
I have to make sure I’ll not be one to worship at his altar.
The Hermes logo on his belt glistens against the flamed hue, and every step closer feels like a heartbeat in my chest. I dip my head between my shoulders, unsure what will happen tonight. It’s not until his boots come into view that I realize I’ve lowered like a coward.
He’s gentle as he angles my head, catching me off guard. This is unfamiliar territory. I quite like familiar ground since the last time I decided to explore the unknown, I found myself here. In Dracula’s castle.
“You haven’t cried.”
I blink. “Because I’m no longer sad.”
His jaw tightens as he glides his thumb over my bottom lip. “You’re a problem, Madness.”
“Maybe,” I whisper, my gaze dropping to his mouth. “But I’m one you created.”
His shoulders relax as he steps closer. My brain short-circuits when his chest brushes my nipples, but the muffled sound of someone moving in the background distracts me. Not enough to pull away because I’m too entrapped by him to do that.
“Is that right?” He turns back to the sofa, lowering himself down slowly while swiping the bottle of whiskey and resting it on top of his thigh. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until it bursts out of me.
His eyes shift over my shoulder. “Thoughts on that, V?” Resting his bottle against his lips, his tone is lighter than usual.