Page 69 of The Doll and The Domination

Reel it in. Don’t let it get to you.

“There were stories about me?” he asks, fighting to keep his breath under control.

“Yes.” Although the stories of Patient Thirteen and The Fallen Saint were a fascinating, epic love tale…nothing compared to my favorite character.

His mouth parts in surprise. It’s as if the entire stadium goes silent for us.

“I used to ask my mother to tell me the story about your valor in the Battle of Hangman’s Beach. I cried every time she told my brother and I of your bravery, your undying effort to free DaiSzek.”

“You did?”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “You were my favorite bedtime story. The Niles I learned about…he is strong in the face of terror.”

He swallows, goose bumps forming on his arms.

Don’t say it…

“You are a hero to me, Niles.” The tears swell over my lashes, and I can’t keep the passion from leaking into my wavering voice. Anger is a ship wrecking into the iceberg of my soul. Why am I doing this? Why can’t I just steer clear? Why did my cell have to be right next to his?

As the stakes roar with flames, the stadium ruptures in animated chaos. But Niles lifts my hand from his eyes. He gazes down, meeting my eyes with a look of seriousness I have yet to encounter from his humorous manner.

He’s…so beautiful.

Niles parts his lips to speak, but for once, can’t find the words. He watches the tears trickling down my cheeks and uses a thumb to catch the next tear before it can fall. He smiles with both pain and warmth as he stares at that tear on his thumb. And before I can speak again, he pulls me against his body, wrapping his strong arms around me. My face presses against the center of his chest, inhaling his scent of oak, sunshine, and the soap from our showers. Never in my life have I received a hug with such tenderness, such affection.

It’s a Niles hug.

My arms curl around his waist to embrace him back, feeling the detail of his muscles, his scars, his soft skin. And it’s the way he runs his hand through my long red hair that sends chills prickling over every inch of my skin.

My thoughts are a war of screaming and begging. I’m walking a dangerous line by letting myself feel this.

As I open my eyes, Skylenna stands in my line of sight, watching our embrace with an emotion I can’t identify clouding her eyes. She’s thoroughly examining my posture, body language, and the tears running trails of pent-up emotion down my freckled cheeks. You can back down, Fallen Saint. I’ll keep my distance from your golden boy.

After a long moment, everyone is standing around us. Ruth puts a hand on Niles’s shoulder. “It’s time to head back.”

But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t acknowledge that they’re all waiting for us. He takes in a deep, soothing breath, and kisses the top of my head.

“This family loves to ruin a good hug, huh?” he jokes, returning back to his humorous state of being.

Walking back to our cages, I replay that hug.

Over and over again.

15. Slow To Anger And Great In Power

Skylenna

It’s been nearly two weeks since Fun House Night.

Nearly two weeks without food.

The kitchen delivered dead rats on a platter. Dessin kept his cool. Niles woke up howling in pain from his burns or from a nightmare about the fire. He stopped abruptly due to Marilynn somehow soothing him back to sleep. Warrose got into another fight in the showers. Ruth chewed him out for an hour about making things worse.

And my body has been healing.

Slowly.

But it’s hard without food.

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