“Kitten, please believe me when I tell you – you don’t just have anger. You’re drowning in it.”
Sin’s words play through my mind, and for the first time, I believe them. I’m not sure if there’s anything Iwouldn’tdo to keep him safe.
A chill crawls down my spine, and I’m suddenly grateful that I’m a Creator, and not a Destroyer.
That kind of power clearly doesn’t belong in me.
Chapter 16
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule sixteen:Trust your doctor (even if he’s psychotic).
So maybe telling my insane ex to kidnap my modern histories professor was the dick move of the century. But it bought me a little more time.
Time I’m desperate to use.
A week.
I have a week until the ceremony.
On edge, I mentally mutter my daily affirmation.
I am so unbelievably fucked.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t soothe my nerves.
Leon is pressed up against me as we sit together on a small, upholstered couch. He’s barely said a word all morning.
Considering the man loves nothing more than to put me on mute and mansplain our future, I’m pretty sure he’s annoyed. I’m not sure if that’s because today is ourfirst couples therapy session, or because he’s missing Council meetings.
I’m not in much better spirits. The gray haze that settled over me has only intensified. Nothing dramatically traumatizing has happened since yesterday.
I think it’s been subtly building for days. Every interaction where I’ve been forced to submit and play nice with Leon has slowly pushed me under.
Maybe that’s been Leon’s plan all along. Why bother using a leash to force me into submission when he can carve me into something that fits him instead? A numbing cold spreads through me at the thought, and I try to stop dissociating.
I refuse to stop trying. Being broken doesn’t mean I’m useless. I’ve had years of experience to attest to that.
Of course, being forced back to Leon’s side is certainly making it difficult to try much of anything. I’ve been internally groaning since he pulled me away from Nymara. If I can just go back to being under her watch, then maybe I’ll be able to explore more of the castle. But no matter how many times I’ve tried to suggest it, Leon has refused to back off.
I need help, and that’s precisely what I’m hoping to get today.
My palms are sweating, and I hide them in the folds of my dress. Ironically, I’m not at all concerned about what we’ll discuss in therapy. That could be because we won’t even get to therapy if Dr. Parnard reveals that he knows me. Or it’s because of the reason I’m latching onto: I’ve grown as a person.
I mean, sure, I’ve grown less stable, but grown, nonetheless.
The doorknob turns, shaking me from my thoughts. A moment later, an insolent Dr. Parnard is shoved inside by a guard. His hair is disheveled, and he’s wearing one of his many tweed blazers with elbow patches.
“I’m telling you, I’m not a therapist!” He yells at the door, even as it’s slammed in his face.
I don’t waste a second. Springing up from my seat, I dash for him and grab his hand for a vigorous handshake. I’m in his face before he’s even fully turned. “Dr. Parnard! I’m so pleased we could arrange for you to visit!”
His eyes widen in recognition, and I press forward, “I’ve been pulled into this world and am having so manydifficulties,” I emphasize the word, “I knew only a professional couples therapist, such as yourself, would be able to help me navigate this situation.”
He frowns, and I give him my best ‘please play along’ look.
When he still doesn’t say anything, I realize I’m not above begging. “Please say you’ll help. I’m getting married in a week, and I find myself struggling to come to terms with what is being asked of me. I’m desperate for yourparticular brandof counsel.”
