“No, you prick.” Did he say centuries? Fucking centuries?! How old is this man, and why does he barely look a day over thirty? This is definitely a problem for later. Damn demons and their damn sexy features. “I mean how long have you been in my room?”
“Ah, that,” he hums, eyes darkening. “You’ve been asleep for three days.”
I wait for Oziel to continue, but the man has a knack for pissing me off with his nonanswer answers. It’s like he gets a thrill from upsetting me. Perhaps he does and has some weird anger kink.
Nope, not thinking about kinks in relation to Oziel. Don’t need to go down that road, no matter how hot it may be.
“Have you been here the entire time?” At my question, he meets my gaze. He doesn’t speak, but his eyes give away his answer. “You have. Why?”
“The queen was hurt. I needed to make sure you didn’t die.” Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “The deal I made with Ender would be for naught.”
“So, you stayed here for three days to make sure your contract wasn’t voided?”
“Yes, Miss Sinclair. I stayed here for three days to make sure the contract wasn’t voided. What other reason would there be?” Oziel speaks nonchalantly, as if we were commenting on the weather and not my mortality. I know a liar when I see one, though. I’ve been lied to too many times not to detect when someone is being disingenuous. Good liars can mask their face into a blank canvas. Great liars never make you question or doubt them. But no liar can hide the truth in their eyes.
Oziel was scared. For me.
A weird, foreign feeling stirs low in my belly. Before I can analyze it any further, Oziel leans forward. “What happened, Isabelle?”
Hearing my name on his lips momentarily stuns me. Since I’ve arrived, it’s been Miss Sinclair or Kitten, but never Isabelle. I pretend like I don’t like the sound of my name on his lips.
“I saw something…” My mind desperately tries conjuring up the memories the Nephilim shared with me. “It was like I was thrown into the middle of a great battle. I could smell the blood and rot of death. I heard screams of the dying. It was…” I shiver. “It felt so real, like I was really there.”
To my surprise, he reaches out and takes my hand. It provides an odd sense of comfort. “It was real. Just not your reality. Go on.”
I look down at our clasped hands, remembering the woman in the Nephilim’s vision. “There was a woman. She looked human, but her coloring was different, and she had wings. She was crying, begging for someone to stop. I felt her pain, Oziel. Felt her utter devastation. Whoever she was begging to stop turned their back on her. That’s when I felt the pain of betrayal, like a sword stabbing through my heart, and then…nothing.”
I half expect Oziel to tell me I’m crazy. That I dreamed all this up. But he doesn’t. His brow furrows, and he squeezes my hand. “Did you see the person she was speaking to? Anything you can tell me about them?”
“Not really,” I admit, mentally kicking myself for not trying harder to see who it was. “I think it was a male? Though I could be mistaken. This person had wings too, but that’s all I remember because his back was turned toward me. I don’t think that helps much.”
“On the contrary, Miss Sinclair, that helps a great deal.” Oziel lets go of my hand and sits back in his chair. I instantly miss the warmth of his hand in mine. My husband drums his fingers against the armrest of his chair, deep in concentration. “A great deal, indeed,” he murmurs more to himself than me, clearly lost in his own thoughts.
I want to ask him what he’s thinking, but the intenseneed to pee overtakes me. It feels like my bladder is close to bursting, so I not-so-graciously roll out of bed. “I’ll be back,” I say before half running, half walking to the restroom, clenching my entire body. If Oziel says anything, I don’t hear as I shut the door behind me.
I manage to make it to the toilet without embarrassing myself. Pulling down my pants is the first time I realize I’m no longer wearing my dress. Someone changed me, and I feel my cheeks flame at the thought of Oziel changing my clothes. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked, thanks to the moment in the washroom, but that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with him seeing me naked while I’m unconscious. Then again, it could have been another demon whom he called upon to heal me.
I’m going with that version.
Once I’m finished peeing a damn river, I flush and wash my hands. I feel gross, hair matted to the back of my head, and there are still spots of dried blood on my face. The shower is calling me, but I don’t think I have enough strength to bathe myself yet. And there’s no way in hell I’m asking Oziel to help me. My pride can only take so much. Showering will simply have to wait until I get more energy.
When I walk back into my room, Oziel is no longer alone. Two other unfamiliar demons strip my bed. A whimper leaves my lips since I had planned on crawling back into it.
Oziel hears me and beckons, “Come,” as he goes to a tall mural by the fire.
“Come where?” I ask, but my feet move on their own accord, gravitating toward him.
“My room.”
“Your room?” I echo, sounding more like a parrot than a person.
Oziel doesn’t answer. Instead, he steps forward and presses his palm to the mural. A soft click echoes through the corridor, and the mural shifts, swinging open like a door on silent hinges. A hidden passageway. I shouldn't be surprised. In a place like this, secret doors probably outnumber the regular ones.
Oziel reaches back for me, and I allow him to take my hand, leading me through the passageway. It’s dark and hard to see, but Oziel doesn’t appear to have the same problem. He leads me blindly, and when he stops abruptly, I run into his back with a grunt. He chuckles before another clicking noise sounds, and the other door swings open.
To another room.Hisroom.
One similar to the one we just came from but slightly bigger. It’s decorated in the same dark woods and crimson sheets. Instead of a single window on the far side of the room, there are two doors, pushed wide open, that lead to a balcony.
