Page 20 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

“I make it hard? I am unbearably difficult? You touch me without consent daily, you have no personality beyond self-obsession, and your only desire is to wear a crown and bind your life to mine so you do not die an old man in a few decades!” I screeched, pushing his chest with all of my strength.

I forgot that mortals were far weaker than fae, but was reminded when he slammed into the wall with a loud thud. I ran to him, spewing apologies from my lips, but when he looked up, I saw that he too was now wrath incarnate.

“You stupid bitch!” He slapped my face so hard that my head whipped to the left, and in my surprise at the sting, he kicked my legs out from under me.

My head hit the floor first, sending a shockwave of pain throughout my body. I cried out, opening my eyes and seeing nothing but black spots for a moment.

“You are lucky to have me, lucky to be mine when you are so unwanted by your own kind,” he spit, his words venomous. I felt his hands grab my own and pin them above my head. I tried to fight back, but the pain was searing.

“Please, Sterling, stop,” I begged, tears once again flowing from my eyes. He chuckled, getting on top of me. I felt his breath on my lips and knew that he would be able to do whatever he wanted to me right now. I tried to struggle under his grip, tried to call to my power, but each time I moved the pain in my head peaked.

“I do not think I will.” Then his lips crushed into mine, forcing them open and shoving his tongue down my throat. I sobbed into his mouth, pleading with him to stop. One hand remained on my wrists, the other roaming my body over my clothes, unwanted and vile caresses seeming endless.

Finally, he halted. I did not dare open my eyes, not wanting to see his joyous face. Not wanting to see his eyes roam over me.

“I am saving you for after we are married my love, but I thank you for the kiss. Perhaps now you will be more accommodating to my advances. Maybe we will even see what your mouth can do when it is not talking back.” My sobs grew louder at his words and what they insinuated.

Still, I remained unspeaking. I tried to stop the tears, but the pain and the violation were too much to bear.

“You should be glad to know that thanks to the peasant from the ball, your parents seem to think it is in our best interest to show a united front,” Sterling continued. “We are to be wed in a fortnight. I look forward to consummating our union, beautiful.”

He kissed me one more time, gripping my neck so tightly that I could not breathe. When he let go, I gasped, coughing uncontrollably.

“I will let the Healer know that I saw you come in hurt, I might even mention I suspect a certain dark-haired creep from the ball.” With that he got off me.

Some of the tension left my body, thinking he would leave me alone. He must have noticed my relief at his absence, because his foot slammed into my stomach, causing me to scream out in agony. He quickly reached down and put his hand over my mouth, shushing me. Then he was up, and his foot hit me again. And again. And again.

When his energy and anger died out, he leaned down to place another kiss on my lips. With a final smirk of victory, he stood and left, the sound of his shoes tapping on the gold marble growing distant.

Chapter Twelve

When I could no longer hear him, I curled into a ball. I stayed that way until my sobs stopped and my pain eased. As my vision came back, I looked up. An arm’s length away from my chambers, that was how close I was. I could make that.

I forced myself to stand, wobbling as I walked the two steps to my doors, crying out at the sharp pain in my head and below my chest. I opened one and quickly locked it behind me.

Every part of my body hurt, but if I let myself think about it, I would break. I turned around to find a cloud of gold satin and gossamer hanging from the beams of my bed. At the sight of the hideous wedding dress, I found myself shattering at last.

In that moment, one that would seem so inconsequential to anyone else, I was swallowed whole by the grief of a life I never had the chance to live. To me the gown was a mark of an impending future I had no say in, one that would rip every ounce of joy that I once had. I fell to my knees, landing so hard that I heard a crack as I made contact with the golden floor. Sobbing, with no fight left in me, I laid down and closed my eyes.

I was unsure how long I had been lying there when the Royal Healer, Tish, and her assistant found me. She awoke me with a light shake and soft words. At the sight of her concern, I remembered I was supposed to lie, but the pain—both physical and emotional—drained me. I felt hollow and sluggish, like a raging sea emptied, forever just a husk of what it once was.

When I did not answer her questions, she gently pulled off my clothing. At the sight of my body, she gasped. Was it that bad? I wondered how I would possibly make up a good enough lie when I could not bring myself to even care what happened anymore.

Giving up never seemed like an option before. I thought I could push and struggle and manage. I would not give in; I would not submit. Even if I had to marry Sterling, I thought it possible to still govern my life. He would not dare test me or harm me when he knew of my power. I was infinitely stronger than him. Yet, I was the one in pain while he walked off smirking.

Maybe I could blame my emotional state, or the fact that he caught me off guard. But really it all came down to my own incompetence. I was untrained, unsure, and unconfident. In the grand scheme of our future together, I knew he would always be in control.

Tish got to work healing me, sending her assistant to grab Mia. The pain I felt when she began touching my stomach was red hot, causing bile to rise in my throat. A second later I vomited all over myself, choking on it. Tish lifted my head, and her touch sent another shockwave of agony through me. At my scream she set me back down and inspected her gory hand. Her eyes went wide, and she immediately got to work on the wound.

Every minute of the healing brought on pain and then relief, until I felt nothing but a light throb throughout my entire body. That was when Mia walked in. Her face was no longer perfectly blank and complacent. No, she was the embodiment of fury, from the shake of her fists to the set of her jaw. I had never seen the queen look so flustered, so angry.

Mia rushed over to me, kneeling in the pool of blood at my head. Her soft golden gown soaked up the color, and I wanted to tell her that she needed to move or it would be ruined. But the lump in my throat and the ache in my heart stopped me.

“What happened to her, Tish?” Mia asked. The venom in her voice promised retribution, but Tish would provide little help with the vengeance Mia sought after. I meant to speak, but my voice was missing, or perhaps I was lost inside myself. A child alone in the woods, searching desperately for a way out but never finding it.

“I do not know, Your Grace. She has yet to speak,” the Healer responded, her voice solemn. I thought I felt something from her, a sort of unspoken truth. “The extent of her injuries makes me believe she was attacked. She had five broken ribs, bruising around her throat, a fractured skull, and a black eye. It seems she also fell rather hard on her knees, as the bones there were bruised heavily. From experience I must say, it is rare for such a powerful being to be taken down so easily. With Asher’s powers, I find it hard to believe that she was harmed by someone she did not know.”

She looked at me then, communicating to me what she would not say to Mia. She knew.

---