I should, but I can’t seem to move. Not yet. I’ll wait until she freaks out, until I have no choice but to go. I just can’t leave her yet. Not when, against all odds, she’salive.
“Monster,” she whispers, eyes softening.
Monster. I’ve never been so goddamn glad to hear that nickname, because it means she remembers. She rememberseverything, otherwise she wouldn’t be staring at me with such gentleness and affection.
My knees buckle with relief. I sink down to the mattress, fighting the urge to cry. She remembers me.
She remembers me.
“Flower,” I murmur.
She sweeps a disoriented gaze around the room. “Why am I in medical?”
Howmuchdoes she remember?
“Do you remember the fight?” I ask. Ross told me that her most recent memories are the ones most likely to be impacted… maybe she has no recollection of the day Luther invaded.
Her wince tells me I don’t need to be worried about that. “Yeah. Dad and James smashed my head against a lot of objects.” She clears her throat, then focuses on the cat, who takes the liberty to wrap around her neck like a necklace.
“Hey, Luci,” she whispers. “Aw, I missed you too.” Lucifer lets out an unnecessarily loud purr, and unreasonable jealousy sparks inside of me. All of her attention should be on me. My entitlement to her focus isn’t fair, but I can’t turn it off.
“The—” I cut off as my breath catches, forcing back the tears of relief and belated grief in my eyes. I nearly lost her, but here she is,memories seemingly intact. “The doctors didn’t know if you’d make it. Or if you’d remember me. You… you almostdied,Flower. You almost left me.”
Her eyes fill with tears as she stares at me. “I couldn’t ever forget you, Greyson. You’re my Monster. You live in my soul.”
That’s when I can’t hold the tears back any longer. The floodgates open, and I cry for the first time in my adult life. I lower my head to Scarlett’s chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart, and sob like a fucking baby.
Epilogue
Scarlett
3 months later…
Time passes in a comfortable ebb and flow. There were hard moments while I was recovering—times when it seemed like I’d never regain my motor skills. Times when I wanted to give up because my body fought against me.
Greyson was my rock through every difficult second. He dealt with my mood swings, breakdowns, and struggle against myself. He held me when I screamed that I hated him, and sobbed that I loved him. He’s been the embodiment of patience every second of every day, not leaving my side even for a moment.
The first month of recovery was the worst. Migraines, sudden losses of consciousness, difficulty functioning as a basic human. The second was the true test of recovery as Max helped me through regaining control of my body and finding my strength again. The third has been much more smooth sailing… despite a confrontation with Cain and a ritual I wasn’t terrifically excited about.
Cain evidently had some bullshit trials in mind for me—part of this archaic old tradition of Chosens. I told him point-blank I’d blow upthis fucking fortress, starting with the headquartersI saved,if he put me through anything more than he already has.
He looked at me like he might kill me, but relented, and only insisted that I complete the binding ritual with Greyson. It was small and intimate—not quite like a wedding, but close enough. Vows between my Monster and I were exchanged in front of my brother and, unfortunately, Cain. Max was there, too.
Which brings me to this moment… Greyson’s version of a celebration.
It doesn’tfeelparticularly celebratory to me; it feels like a test of endurance, of mental and physical fortitude. Greyson was extremely careful with me up until the last two weeks—any sex we had was gentle and soft. He treated me like a delicate flower, which I grew sick of pretty quickly.
He must’ve rewired my brain, because now, sex thatisn’tpassionate or somewhat kinky doesn’t do it for me anymore—barring the rare exceptions where Grey holds me close and tells me he loves me while pounding into me like he hates me.
Now, the morning after our official ritual and vow exchange, he’s set aside several hours to torture me… and if I was allowed to speak, I’d tell him I hate him in every way I know.
“Don’t like the predicament?” Monster mocks lightly, tilting his head as he watches me. “You literally asked for it, Scarlett. For several weeks straight. But I guess reality can sometimes temper the power of fantasy, can’t it?”
I glare daggers at him, holding back a whimper as the slightest twitch of my head jostles the hook in my ass. The nerve endings in all my erogenous zones are firing. My nipples are stuck in suction cups… as is myclit. My arms and legs are tied to the bedposts of our bed, a pillow’s resting under my hips, and the hook is attached to my collar.I literally woke up to Greyson chaining me up, and warning me not to make a single noise or he’d punish me.
With how vulnerable my body is right now… I’m not eager to risk his wrath. He could do any number of torturous things to me, and I have absolutely no power to fight back.
“Anything to say?” he taunts. “Oh, wait… I told you not to make a sound. What a shame.”
