This is exactly what I saw yesterday, minus the exploding organs and projectile vomiting.
When the storm starts heading my way, Seiji swiftly disperses it with a heavy gust of wind, and everything trapped inside the tornado falls to the ground.
“You’re cleaning that up.” Angel gives Seiji a pointed look. I can tell this isn’t the first time he has gone rogue, showing off his powers.
Angel turns to his Warriorhead. “I think we’re ready for lunch.”
Hazel nods, then takes a deep breath and whistles a soft, melodic tune. The sound is so soothing that I want to close my eyes, curl into myself, and drift into a deep, peaceful sleep.
I soon understand the purpose of Hazel’s tune when the elevator chimes and five waiters rush in carrying trays overflowing with food.
The staff completely ignores the junkyard that the living room has turned into and moves straight to the kitchen, placing the trays on the counter before leaving. Their movements are almost robotic, like they are in a trance—or being manipulated by a siren.
I’m still gaping at Hazel when she finally stops whistling and winks at me. I’m so in awe of her that I don’t even mind her smugness.
“I think she’s my favorite,” I whisper.
“I made athunderstorm, andshe’syour favorite?!”
“I can’t eat clouds, princess.” I shrug, practically drooling from the delicious smells coming from the kitchen, while they burst out laughing.
9. Come meet my Monkey
Nevaeh
Ipress my face into the pillow and scream in frustration. I swear I’m going to throw that stupid clock out the stupid window if it doesn’t stop tick-tocking right fucking now!
I thought being in a safe environment would ease my mind enough to finally get some rest, but I’ve been lying on this cloud-like bed for the past five hours, and still no signs of sleep.
When Angel showed me this room, I was excited to finally have my own space after years of sharing dungeons with half-dead prisoners. The pale blue walls and the comfortable bed, surrounded by fluffy pillows, were incredible at first, but the persistent silence began to haunt me after a while.
Most of my restlessness is my own fault. I haven’t left this room for anything other than checking on my little Monkey. It’s been four days, and the boy still hasn’t woken up from his sleep coma. His absence is only making my anxiety worse.
Not being able to lower my guard is taking me back to those days in the cell. Even with all the comfort and warmth around me, I can’t shake the feeling that the other shoe is about to drop. And every day I wake up and nothing bad happens… it feels like a trick.
The first night I locked myself in this room, I didn’t expect Seiji to knock on my door the next morning with a plate of food. He stood outside and watched me devour it within seconds. He was thrilled… until I threw up everything a minute later.
Good food was a luxury my body rejected on my second day as a free woman.
When Seiji came by that night with another plate piled highwith food, I didn’t understand what I was supposed to do with it. I had already eaten once that day, and even if the food didn’t reach my stomach, I thought that was it.
I made the mistake of asking Seiji what I had done to deserve a second plate. He stormed out of my room and returned with Angel on his heels. When I refused to eat because I didn’t want them to favor me over others by giving me extra food, both men stared at me like I had kicked their puppies.
The next morning, I managed to eat half of what Seiji brought me, and thankfully, didn’t throw it back up. Angel noticed and asked Seiji to cut my meals in half and stick to only once a day, because that was all I could stomach for the time being.
Seiji was worried. With a sad smile and tears lining his lashes, he tried to coax me to at least have some fruit with my meal. I swear, in that moment, I would have done anything to erase that look from his face, but before I could force myself to eat more, Angel intervened.
Now, thanks to my mate, everyone followsmypace as I try to ease back into the land of normal, healthy people.
Even when I’ve refused to step out and socialize this past week, there’s still food waiting for me every morning at eight without fail.
And I have repaid their kindness by breaking nine clocks since I got here.
Before my frustration tempts me to round up that number, I drag myself out of the warm bed to take a long, scalding shower, hoping to look somewhat alive again.
I wince at the mirror when I see the proof of my less-than-stellar sleep schedule. The purple bags under my eyes have compelled me to take a nap twice now, but each time the nightmares from my past haunted me until I woke up on the verge of a panic attack.
My lack of sleep has thickened the usual fog in my head, but I can’t risk my Divine taking over while I’m unconscious. Thatwould be catastrophic for everyone in this building.
