I didn’t fall asleep for a long time, my mind racing over all the ways I could get out of Rumple’s spell. Sadly, I could barely think of it for more than a moment before a tug of pain yanked on my stomach.
I clamped a hand over my mouth, holding back my cry of pain.
It was becoming harder and harder to keep my mind on returning to the factory and not on how much better it would be if I stayed here with Blackthorn and the others.
I didn’t know how much longer I could handle it before my feelings took over, and Rumple’s spell ripped me apart at the seams.
Chapter 24
Blackthorn didn’t come to dinner the next night. I went to bed alone and woke up with the sheets cool beside me. I waited for him each night but he did not come. Not the second night or the next. By the fourth night, I began to worry.
“Is Blackthorn away?” I asked Baylen one evening when I sat at the dinner table alone again.
Baylen glanced up from where he was pouring my wine, guilt on his face. “I do not know.”
My lips pressed tightly together. I didn’t know if I believed him or not... or if I would like the answer if they did tell me.
I didn’t eat much, mostly pushed the food around on my plate. I gave my apologies to Baylen for Cookie before excusing myself.
Letting my feet guide me, I walked through the castle. First to the garden, only to leave moments later when Blackthorn wasn’t there. Then to the library. I wasn’t much of a reader, but it did look as if someone had been spending their time in there. None of the signs pointed to whether it was Blackthorn, Fran, or one of the other servants.
I found my way back to the main room, the room I had found myself in that first night. I sank down in his chair and stared at the fire for a long time.
The cold woke me. I had nodded off in Blackthorn’s chair. The fire had long since died out.
Shivering, I stood and wrapped my arms around myself.
Mind set on returning to the bedroom and taking a warm bath, I walked out into the corridor. I didn’t get very far before I heard something that changed my path. My feet found themselves walking up a set of stairs, up and up and up until my head became dizzy with the action.
When I stopped on the landing, I paused.
Unlike last time, Blackthorn’s large dark form filled the small room. No lights were on. Only streaks of moonlight streamed in through the curtains, casting my attention on the changes.
The floors were still covered in dust. Though, a section had been cleared away as if someone how been pacing back and forth across the floor. My gaze shifted back to the stiff back of Blackthorn.
I stepped into the room, my hand on the door frame.
Barely noticeable, Blackthorn’s shoulders stiffened even tighter. I almost turned and walked out of the room. It was clear he was having a moment with his last love. Something forlorn pulled on the strings of my heart, and yet an ugly feeling fought its away in.
Jealousy.
It was me who Blackthorn had taken away to his castle. It was me that the servants now called mistress. Me who slept in his bed and dined with him every night. Not this ghost who haunted this forgotten room. Well, not as forgotten as I would have liked.
The silence was deafening, and I couldn’t stand it. No matter how much I wanted to think otherwise, I’d become used to my captor being there, day in and day out. He had been one of the constants since I’d left the factory, and I was reluctant to admitthat I missed him. I blamed that combined with the jealousy swirling in my stomach for what I said next.
“Do you miss her?”
The old me would never have asked such a question. Too worried for the answer or not wanting to cause him undue pain. But being here, in this castle, with him, has made something inside of me want to lay claim on him. To send this woman who haunted us that he was mine. And for that, I needed to know that she didn’t still hold a place in his heart, beating or not.
Blackthorn twisted his body slightly toward me. “I did... once,” he said over his shoulder.
Emboldened by his words, I took another step into the room, my hand falling away from the door frame. “And now?”
Despite how hard I tried to keep my voice even, I could hear the emotion in my question. Maybe it was the vulnerability in my voice or maybe the question itself, but it had Blackthorn turning away from the portrait on the wall. His dark eyes found me across the room.
“It’s been some fifty years since I closed my home and my heart to another.” Blackthorn didn’t come closer, standing between me and the portrait of the beautiful woman. “One time, not that long ago, I had I thought I found someone who would penetrate the darkness in my heart.” He paused and sighed, peering at the portrait once more. “But I was mistaken.”
“The witch?”
