I snort. “That’s putting it mildly.”
We both fall quiet for a moment. Me drifting into my thoughts of home. I feel as though, in this last week, I’ve nearly forgotten what I’m fighting to go home to.
“I think I’m going to retire early tonight.” I give Rhoden a grateful smile, so that she doesn’t think I’m upset by anything she said. One of the things I value the most about Rhoden is that she’ll be honest with me even when it’s hard. Plus, she’s right. I’m literally cursed to live out my eternal days in a castle, and I’m complaining about the mind boggling orgasms, because clearly Braxton is an overachiever and one wasn’t enough, I just received from my literal captor.
“Do you want me to brush your hair before I go?” she asks.
I shake my head and bid her goodnight. I sit on the bed for a moment longer before bringing myself to my feet. I shimmy out of the dress I wore today, but before I toss it in the basket to be collected for laundering, I bring it to my nose and inhale.
Exactly as I anticipated, the dress smells like the perfect blend of my floral scent and Braxton’s smoky one. I never imagined smelling my dress after spending the day with him would be so enthralling, but here I am, thinking about him all over again. How his lips felt pressed against mine. How perfectly he filled me. How he had me screaming his name even though I’d rather cut my tongue out than ever succumb to giving him that level of satisfaction again.
Rhoden’s warning rings in my head, and I quickly drop the dress in the basket before grabbing a night slip and silk robe from my closet. I’m closing up my wardrobe when I hear my bedroom door open. Assuming Rhoden forgot something in my room, I chuckle under my breath and turn to face the door, thinking nothing of the intrusion.
“What did you forget this—”
I stop because it’s not Rhoden standing there.
“Gravesley, what are doing here?”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise as my stomach churns. I can sense something is different about him. He looks… unwell. His lips are chapped, and his usually fairly defined wrinkles seem to be practically concaving his face in. But apart from the weathered look of his skin, his eyes aren’t filled with their usual spark. No. There’s something dark in them, as if they’ve been filled with a deranged glimmer.
I watch as his hand reaches up to the lock on my door and turns it once, clicking the bolt into place.
“I think it’s time to get some sleep, Azalea,” Gravesley says, and he starts walking towards me.
42
Azalea
“Gr-Gravesleywhatareyou?”My voice wobbles as he continues to prowl closer.
My feet stumble backward until I can’t move anymore, and my back presses against the wardrobe behind me.
“My job was to observe and not be heard, but things are changing. You’re proof of that.” Gravesley’s words confuse me. It’s as if he’s speaking in the middle of a conversation I don’t remember us starting.
“I- I don’t understand.” My brows pull together.
Gravesley’s steps don’t falter as he continues to walk closer to me. I step around the wardrobe and continue to move backwards trying to keep as much space between us as possible.
“Of course you don’t, and that’s the fucking problem. Even worse, I can’t just tell you the whole truth. No. No. No. We’ve tried, but the magic won’t allow that.”
Hearing him swear is somehow the most jarring thing about this entire interaction. I want to believe this is some kind of misunderstanding. That he’s feeling unwell or is getting confused in his older age, but something in my gut is telling methat’s not the case. More importantly, it’s telling me I need to run.
Gravesley moves more swiftly than his age should allow, closing more of the distance between us, and that’s when Luna springs to life.
I hadn’t registered the low growls she had been rumbling from across the room, as all of my attention had been locked on the predator coming at me. Luna grabs Gravesley by the arm, and I watch his sleeve turn crimson as her teeth sink deep into his flesh and muscle.
Gravesley howls in pain and tries desperately to shake Luna from her grip on him. I’m currently wedged between the door where I can escape, or the drawer to my dresser where a sharpened letter opener sits. I should run for the door. That’s what a sane person would do, but when I see Gravesley shove his tailcoat aside and the candlelight reflect off the blade strapped in his belt, my mind is made up for me.
I sprint to my desk, but my racing nerves cause my fingers to tremble as I try to unlock the drawer and pull it open. I’m not fast enough, and Gravesley pulls the small blade from the hilt at his side and plunges it into Luna’s shoulder right as my fingers curl around the letter opener. When I hear her whimper of pain fill the room, every thought and worry for myself vanishes, and I lunge at the old man.
“Don’t you fucking touch her!” I yell as I knock him to the floor.
His hand reaches for me, and I notice he’s surprisingly strong for someone who often drifts around the castle appearing feeble. I raise the letter opener over my head and, in one swift swing, bring it hurtling down.
Regardless of how often I fantasize about doing it to Braxton, I’ve never stabbed someone before, and the exertion required for it is far more than I anticipated. But my rising fear forboth myself and Luna’s life, and the momentum I was able to put behind my swing, allow me to push the letter opener cleanly through Gravesley’s palm. Crimson spurts from the gash, splattering along his white collared shirt. I hear Luna whimper again as she does her best to stand, and the fury it ignites inside me leads me to squeeze the handle of the letter opener and twist it, causing more blood to leak from his hand.
“You stupid bitch,” he roars, spittle flying from his mouth.
