Chapter 6
Adam
Need spurs me on faster and faster until I burst through the door to the dorms and rush to Delilah’s room. When I fling her door open, she jumps and slides to the floor while yanking at her dress.
I want her in my arms so badly that I have to stop and take a breath. If I did that—simply embraced her—my father would see. And then my ruse would be over. She’d become an even bigger pawn in his game.
Forcing myself to take even steps is the worst torture I’ve ever endured, and I’ve been through plenty. I sit in front of her and simply stare at her. When I think about how she ran from me, I grip the edge of the bed. When I think about how I was willing to let her go, everything inside me rebels.
“Adam?” Her soft voice wafts over me, and something deep inside me begins to unwind.
I refocus on her gaze. Dark circles mar the skin under her eyes, her cheeks are gaunt, and her lips are cracked in several places. Raw wrists, slouching shoulders, and sallow skin tell me how bad it was in the Rectory. But they don’t tell the whole story.
“What did they do, little lamb?” I stroke my hand down her cheek and find her just as warm as she’s always been. “After you were led astray, what happened?”
“You took me to the Rectory.” The bite in her voice cuts deep.
“I didn’t have a choice.” Did I? I could have let her go and killed the men closing in. But my mind plays through the outcomes. Each of them end with her captured and me dead or permanently entombed in the Rectory.
She drops her gaze, hiding her face from me. I’m supposed to tell her to look at me, to follow my rules, to always do what I say, and most of all—that any further disobedience will result in vicious punishment from me. Instead, I want to pull this wounded fairy with the broken wings into my arms. Fuck, I’ve gone soft.
“On the bed.” Even though she’s destroyed, my blood still thrills at the thought of touching her.
She doesn’t resist, just climbs onto the mattress and lies on her back, even spreading her legs before I tell her to. I don’t look at her there, despite the steady thrum of my blood telling me to. I lie down on top of her, balancing on my elbows and staring into her eyes. Gray and inscrutable, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to look into them and see all of her.
“You can’t try anything like that again.” I keep my voice low, lest Grace and the Prophet got a little too exuberant and installed audio devices in Delilah’s room. Hell, it’s highly likely.
“I know.”
I sift her hair between my fingers. “Tell me what happened in the Rectory.” I need to know, to feel what she went through. If I could have taken the torture on myself, I would have. But my father didn’t give me that option. He never gives me any options. I push the bitter truth aside and focus on my only respite from the Prophet. “I want to know.”
“Aren’t you going to threaten me first? Maybe hit me with your belt?” She comes out swinging, which I can appreciate.
“I only do that when it’s fun.” I glance down at her. “With you in this state, it would be like killing a fly with a bazooka. Flashy, but not satisfying.”
“You’re an asshole.” The fire reappears in her, the flame that drew me from the moment I saw her.
“I know. Now tell me.”
She closes her eyes, hiding from me. “I was strapped to a table. And there was water. Constant water.” She touches a spot on her forehead and winces. “It dripped. And I know it sounds insane, but that drip… it was so—”
“It’s a form of torture as old as civilization.” I press my forehead to hers, trying to erase the ghost of sensation she’s feeling.
“Good to know.” She clears her throat. “And it was pitch black. Grace was there. She’d taunt me.”
Murderous rage boils inside me, but I stay relaxed, as calm as I can be to soothe her nightmare away. “Yes.”
“And they would drag me to this room. And…”
I wait for her to continue and catch a tear rolling from the corner of her eye. The words “you’re safe now, with me” hover on the tip of my tongue, but they aren’t real. They’re lies. And I can’t force them past my lips. A first.
“Your father would be there. With food and water.” The words pour out of her in an anguished torrent. “And I couldn’t say no. I was so hungry and tired and, God, I just wanted it to stop and he kept telling me all these things.” More tears leak from the corners of her eyes, and I wipe each one away. “He was so kind, but then I would be dragged back to that room. Again and again.”