Shaking his head, he rushed down the hall and navigated his way to the dining room. On reaching the doors, Seri paused to take a deep breath in through his mouth, letting it flow out through his gills… It did nothing to calm him. If anything, it just made him feel dryer.
He plastered a bright smile onto his face. It was fake. It was always fake. Seri hadn’t smiled for real in at least five years. Maybe sneered a little any time he lashed out or caused his captors trouble, but joy and happiness was not something he felt anymore.
As prepared as he could be, he pushed through the double gray doors of the dining room and attempted to walk as normal as possible. But he definitely was still waddling.
With a smile on his face that would make any actor or actress proud, he ignored the guards and maids standing around the room like furniture, and headed to the table, doing his best to not let the sight of Preston affect his outsides as it was his insides.
Nausea, that was all he felt when he saw the man. Well, that and anger, hatred, and all those other highly volatile emotions that normal people would feel towards their tormentors.Fun times,he thought with an inner eye roll.
Moving to Preston Chanway’s side, Seri slowly lowered himself down into the chair to the man’s right. The one that had been pulled out. Which would seem to most like a kind gesture, but it wasn’t. It was more of a silent demand that would turn into a screaming one should he dare to sit anywhere else.
Eyes never leaving the Dweller, he ran his hand nervously over his extended baby bump while one of the guards pushed his chair in without a word.
“Sorry for the wait. I did try to hurry, but I had to use the restroom. It’s been so long since you’ve been home, so…I missed you,” he lied.
Seri gulped, shoulders tensing even more than they already had been when the man’s piercing icy blue gaze met his, Preston’s expression neutral. Which didn’t necessarily mean shit was about to go down, but…it was still a possibility—more like a fifty-fifty chance.
With short blond hair kept business casual, pointed ears, blue eyes, sharp cheeks, prominent nose and brow, and pale skin—the Shadow Dweller looked like one of the princes out of those old animated movies from over five hundred years ago. Handsome, yet morally and emotionally dead inside. Though that was mostly how he’d described Preston, not the cartoon princes… Okay, maybe them too. Something about some of those cartoon eyes had always screamed soulless...
A miniscule amount of tension left him when a smile slipped onto Preston’s face. “Why apologize when you weren’t late…for once.” A tick of irritation appeared on the man’s jaw before his expression smoothed again. “It’s something you need to work on. But as you are on time today, no point dwelling on it, is there? Let’s talk of only good things, for our time together is limited once again. I missed you, my Seri. More than I thought I would. But you have been so good lately. It seems like punishment that I’m kept away for so long. Sadly, such is expected in business.”
Punishment for who?he thought with disgust. The only time Seri wasn’t a basket of nerves, nausea, and rage, was when Preston was away. The feelings had worsened lately in his attempts at pretending to be the obedient doll the Dweller always wanted.
Smile still in place, Seri said, “I’ll try to work on it. Are you going away again?”
Please say yes,he thought…
“Unfortunately, but we can discuss that later. First…” Preston mused. Seri held back his flinch when the man reached out. Goosebumps running across his skin, he sat there unmoving and trying to not feel while the Dweller began to rub Seri’s stomach. “How is my child today?”
Seri swallowed, his smile never faltering, even as he forced back the bile in his throat. His skin, on the other hand, continued to crawl as if covered in bugs. His stomach churned more at the man’s touch.
“Kicking. They have been kicking a lot. And… ” Seri swallowed again. “Making me slightly nauseated.”
Preston’s brow rose. “I see. Well, it’s to be expected.”The man’s hand fell away and he started to cut into his steak. “Eat,” Preston ordered.
Seri peered down, and was unsurprised to find a steak on his plate as well. Because, of course, why wouldn’t the prick feed him something that his body literally couldn’t process. It seemed like a constant game of Preston’s. To force him to do things that broke something inside of him, whether it be physically or mentally.
Picking up his knife, instead of stabbing it into Preston, like he wanted to—been there, done that, had a lot of fun doing it, but not so much fun after—he started to cut up the steak that no doubt would have him throwing up in the bathroom for hours. Taking a bite, he chewed, the taste made him want to puke, but he swallowed anyway. It felt like a heavy lump as it went down his throat, and even worse when it hit his stomach.
At the sound of Preston’s silverware stilling, Seri glanced up to find the man staring at him.
Slowly setting his silverware down, he nervously rubbed his hand over his stomach again. “Yes?” he asked, his voice neutral as can be.
The man’s gaze swept over him. “The dress you wore is…fitting…but...” He trailed off, pursing his lips in displeasure. Seri hands balled into fists, and he held his breath while he waited for Preston to say the words he always dreaded. “You should change.”
Hands clenching tighter, stomach dropping, he played dumb. “Change?”
“Into your real form.” Preston laid his knife and fork down, and picked up his wine glass. His gaze was piercing as he slowly sipped.
“My…my stomach is upset.”He hated the fact, but his voice shook slightly when he spoke.
The Dweller’s eyes narrowed, hand tightening on the glass. “And what does that have to do with anything?”
“It will be worse if I change,” he lied.
“Change,” Preston growled. “I don’t know why you switched back without my permission anyway.”
“I prefer this form. You…” He gulped. “Isn’t it the one that drew you to me in the first place?”
