Fear the Wicked (Illusions Series Book 2)(66)
The creak of the hinges squealed slowly, the knob hitting the wall with a soft thump. One footstep and then another slowly beating over the floor, approaching me with caution.
“Eve,” Elijah whispered, “Are you awake?”
Clenching my eyes shut, I tightened my fingers into the blanket I held over my head. Still as a statue, I lay on that bed hoping he was just coming to check and hadn’t actually seen me.
“Eve?” he whispered again.
I didn’t answer. There was no way I would respond, no way I would let him know I’d spied on what they were doing.
The footsteps approached again, soft tapping of the soles of his shoes over the floor. He stopped when he reached the side of the bed and I forced my breath to come out slow and even, prayed with everything that I had that he wouldn’t lift the blanket to find that I wasn’t actually sleeping.
His palm rubbed over the blanket, the touch soft and tender. My heart must have stopped beating entirely from the fear that he would yank it from my head, would know that I was lying.
A few tense seconds passed before he pulled his hand away, allowing my heart to continue beating, and within a minute from when he’d first walked in, he was leaving again, the door quietly closing, his footsteps beating heavy down the long hall growing silent as he got far enough away.
I let out a long sigh and then spent the next few minutes saying thank you to God for giving me the speed to run fast enough, and the calm to remain still enough for Elijah not to have caught me.
I must have dozed off after he left, the adrenaline rushing from my body so fast that I slipped into dreamless slumber. Waking up having rolled to the edge of the bed, I noticed the mattress dipped beneath me, the warmth of a thigh against my arm, the soft run of fingers through my hair.
“You’ve been sneaking around, haven’t you?”
Elijah’s voice, deep and hypnotic. I loved it when he used this tone, could listen for hours as he spoke about anything that filled the deafening silence. Even for as much as I enjoyed him when he spoke this way, I couldn’t help the racing of my heart, the sudden shift from sleep to wakefulness that occurred as my mind processed what he’d said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been sleeping.”
He was quiet for a moment, contemplative. “When I married you that night in the cabin, I questioned you about many things. Do you remember?”
Thoughts dancing back to a night that terrified me as much as it filled me with hope, I remembered every detail, every sound, sight and smell. I remembered the way he’d chased me through the woods, the freezing rain that soaked me, the warmth of his chest when he picked me up to carry me in the cabin. Even now I could feel his knuckles brushing my chest as he unbuttoned my dress. I could smell the candles and incense, could see the soft dancing light and shadow from the fire. My skin tingled at my shoulder, at the place where I wore his mark, my mind trying but failing to forget how painful it had been when he put it there. I’d been purified by that mark, had found love beneath the glowing heat of metal, had been catapulted from the ordinary life I’d lived to become the woman who walked beside such a powerful man.
“I remember.”
Why did it feel like ages ago when it had only been months? Why did I feel so much older now even though I hadn’t yet had another birthday? Is this what they mean when they say it’s possible to age years for every day?
His fingertips dragged across my scalp, not painfully, but with just enough pressure that it massaged the skin. “Then you’ll remember how impressed I was with your inability to lie. Every word that leaked out of you was truth down to the bottom of your soul.”
Swallowing hard, I dragged a breath in and released it slowly. “I know.”
His fingers fisted my hair, the scalp burning suddenly, threatening to release every follicle from the strength he used to pull. My face jerked up so that I was looking directly at him, I had no choice but to give in to his violence as he brought his nose down to touch mine. “Why, now, do you think you can lie to me and get away with it?”
He’d spoken the words so softly that they were barely a whisper, and I realized that it was in the moments that Elijah was quiet that you had to fear him. When he was loud, his skin was hot and his soul was on fire. But when he was cold, a sheen of ice cracked across the air, splintering and crawling until my body shook beneath its frigid temperature.
Another lie worked its way up my throat to settle on my tongue. Snapping my teeth shut, I fought to keep from voicing it. He would know. He always knows. I had no choice but to swallow the lie back down and endure whatever punishment I deserved for spying.
When I was silent, he released the pressure on my hair, my scalp still pulsing with an ache I knew wouldn’t go away for several minutes. “Did you enjoy sneaking around and watching me without my knowledge? Did it make you feel accomplished or strong? Lying to your husband like I didn’t deserve better from you?”
Tears welled in my eyes, the lids blinking rapidly to force them out and down my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I was just curious –“
He released me altogether and stood to pace the floor by the bed. “Did you miss him? Is that it? Are your fantasies about him so thorough that you were excited to see him again? That demon from the side of the road. The one who almost stole you from me, who wanted to take every part of you that belongs to me alone?” Stopping suddenly, he pivoted on his heel to glare at me. “Would you like to see him again?”