A smile touched one corner of his lips. “Good. It’s time to go.”
I sent one last look towards the sea before joining his side.
It was different this time. When I walked into the church this morning, I didn’t feel numb or powerless. I felt confident. Nobody could take me to the Back Hall. Nobody could make me suck on them or wear leather, stand, and listen to them grunt and moan.
The only sounds I would ever hear again were Azrael’s, and the sounds he made set my entire body on fire. Just thinking about it had my clit pulsing and my tits hardening.
A nice lady holding a brochure opened the door for us, greeting us kindly.
I found her eyes for half a second before casting mine down only to stiffen and squeeze them shut. No. I could look, I was allowed.
I forced my eyes back up, feeling Azrael beside me, unwavering. I wouldn’t be able to speak with him until we were back in the car, but he said it was fine, that he could read me enough, which I trusted more than I trusted anything else.
I glanced up at him, watching him carefully for a few seconds as he nodded towards those who greeted him. Should I be doing that too?
I turned back to the lobby, the scent of pine trees filling my nose. It wasn’t the real scent though, I knew that for certain.
There was a coffee cart, the smell bitter, and tables with chairs where people sat, waiting for the service to start. There were couches on one end too, near the bathrooms. It looked nice, but so did our church.
It wasn’t about how they presented themselves, it was about how they acted. Smiles were easy, Azrael proved that every day with his beautiful yet sharp smile. What wasn’t easy was being brave enough to let the world see the monster living under your skin.
I wasn’t sure if any of these people had tar inside of them, but I knew for a fact those at my church did and I never had to look in their eyes. Now was the time to prove that I could be exactly what Azrael wanted. Exactly what he craved.
“Good morning.”
We stopped when a man stepped in front of us, his smile bright and friendly.
I instinctively looked down only to correct myself a moment later. I had to look. That was my job.
“Good morning,” Azrael greeted evenly in return.
“My name is Joel Nasson, and who might you be?”
He was younger than Pastor Masters, but older than Thomas by the sound of his voice. His eyes were a light blue gray and there were wrinkles around them. I couldn’t remember what Thomas looked like. Even during our wedding day, I never looked at the sanctuary long enough to study any of them, so I couldn’t remember if Thomas had wrinkles or not. I knew he was far older than I was because on the day my mother gifted me to him, it had been his 25thbirthday. Did he have wrinkles?
“Mr. Thorin, and this is my wife,” he introduced.
My heart skipped a beat at his introduction, and it was hard to keep my mind focused on Mr. Nasson when my mind spun at his words.
My wife.
I was his wife.
I blinked, trying to shake the feeling away and focus on his eyes.
The man barely spared me a glance. “You must be the Transporter. I heard about your marriage to the Blessed One. Congratulations. She was coveted by many. Not me, of course,” he went on as I continued to search his eyes, “I’m quite fond of my Favorite.”
“Coveted by many, cared for by none,” he hummed in response. “We thought a change of pace would be beneficial.”
He nodded. “Have her get a good look at how others act? I can understand that with what Masters’ kid is saying.”
I angled my head, looking deeper into his eyes. It took only a second longer before I finally saw it.
The darkness behind the chill laced in all their eyes. The black dripping around their souls. I could see it. It was soclearnow. I could see it sloshing up against their bones, wrapping tightly around their souls.Infectingthem. My old world had been overrun, just like Azrael had said, but I was no longer living there. I was the Queen saved by the Hatter, coming back for the revenge I never had the strength to take myself.
I felt the smile touch one corner of my lips before it dropped, and I reached my fingers out, brushing them by Azrael’s, the shock of his warmth, the electricity at the touch, shooting up my arm and straight down to my chest.
“And what is he saying?” Azrael asked, seemingly uncaring that I had touched him.
