Chapter 188: Ambrose and Odette
~BACK WITH ODETTE AFTER AMBROSE TRIED TO KILL HER~
She stood outside. Listening to the painful ear-piercing cry that was just behind the door.
She shouldn’t be here, in front of his him. Not after what he did. Not after literally killing her. This was risky, dangerous.
But.
Despite her trembling. Despite her better judgement. Despite it all, she opened the door.
A pitiful, twisted, broken man curled on the floor, his clothes torn, stained with blood. His claws were long covered in a dark red liquid. He had been clawing at his skin repeatedly. Healing before he shredded more skin.
Seeing him, weak and crumbled on the ground like a bad poem someone wrote and threw away. She broke. Whatever resilience she had, whatever spine she was using to keep herself standing tall, snapped. She couldn’t handle seeing him like that. Didn’t matter that he killed her.
She pulled him into her lap and rubbed his head. Humming a tune that always made her feel better.
"Will you stay here tonight?" He asked with a soft voice.
"No." She answered firmly, she wasn’t going to put myself in another position to get hurt.
But then he gazed up at her with soft and pleading expression. Like a small boy begging to be held after a bad dream.
"Fine. But just for the night. But I’ll be damned if you think I’ll sleep sitting up." She was going to sleep on a king’s bed night.
He stood up, taking her hand. Not with his usual rough strong grip, but with a gentle guiding one.
He crawled on the bed; she climbed in after him.
"Can I... Can I hold you?" He whispered, she could hear the fear in his voice. It was unnerving and concerning. She almost said yes. Almost.
"No. But, I’ll be the big spoon. I don’t want you touching me."
He was looking at her, yearning in his eyes. In the dim light of the room in between the flashes of lightning, she could see his eyes move, following my jaw line and stopping at her neck.
He was looking the handprints around her neck. The purple, blue and green bruising that still decorated her skin like a diamond necklace.
"I’m sorry." He whispered reaching out to touch it but halted midair.
"Touch me, and I’ll break your fucking finger." She wasn’t willing to let him touch her.
He hesitated, pulling his hand back.
"I’m really sorry..." He whispered again before turning away from me.
He scooted in closer. She wrapped around him and quietly said back. "I know."
Odette woke the following day, still wrapped tightly around him. He smelled so good. The scent of pine, like a woodsy wilderness. One filled with wonder and magic.
He started to stir, and she didn’t want him to know she woke before him and still kept holding him.
She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing, bringing her heartrate down.
He shifted in her arm, turning to face her. She tried to readjust, but he pulled her closer putting his arm around her. Her face was touching his bare chest. His shirt was still ripped and torn; she could feel shred of fabric drift across her skin. He was so warm, in a weird way he felt like home, like she’s known him for ever. His breathing as steady as hers, his tender touch it was making her head spin.
Stunned wouldn’t cover what she felt when he whispered in her ear, "I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. You will never, ever, escape me. I will always keep you close, I will find you were ever you go, were ever you hide. You belong only to me." He rubbed the back of her head.
His words should have rung all the alarm bells with the parade of red flags he presented.
She should run in the opposite direction. But like some twisted, sick, freak, she didn’t. Instead, it made her heart flutter.
Delilah would just die if she knew about her current situation.
She could feel the butterflies in her stomach as he said words to her. He had no idea what they were doing her. The conflict she was beginning to feel for a man who wants to destroy her, who hates her. Hates her kind. Hates her family.
It was like she was in one of those terrible drama shorts advertised on social media.
When he finally moved from the bed, leaving a cold empty space where he once was.
She wanted to ask him to come back, to keep holding her. To stay in this bed with her. But she wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction.
She waited until after he left the room to rush out of his room and back to her own.
She nearly slammed the door behind her pushing herself up against the door clutching her chest. Her heart was pounding.
What was happening to her? She needed to do something to keep her mind off whatever was going on inside her head.
She opened the wardrobe to realize, all of her clothes were still in his room, since he moved her over there.
Sighing, now she has to go back over there. At least he was gone, so that’s a plus.
She checked the mirror, straightening out her hair and washing her face with water from the sink. The bruising from his fingers had now completely gone. All trace of her near-death experience evaporated. Couldn’t even tell she died.
His energy is incredible.
After walking back and entering his room she quickly moved to the small area designated to her with my small bunch of clothes.
It was so weird how she once had a walk-in closet filled with clothes. That part of her life seemed so long ago. After learning she was across the world from her home, she realized she’d be here some time. It’s been weeks since she was kidnapped. Weeks since she last saw her friends and family. Time seems to have blurred together.