Page 4 of Rejected Darkness

"Fine," he grunts, “but we aren't done with this conversation, Arabella. Not by a long shot."

"It was done before it ever began," I murmur, stepping around him to continue walking to the club. We are only two blocks away, and I can hear the thump of the music, letting it lull me into its safety. In the club, I can dance and drink to forget the worries of the next two days and not be allowed to explore my feelings for Warrick.

"Only you would get so wasted that you can't walk back to the house," Warrick chuckles as he carries me up the front steps of my home. When we reach the front doors, one of the servants opens it so he doesn't need to put me down.

I took advantage of the free alcohol tonight. It was worth it at the time to let go and drown my feelings and my worries. I had a blast with my friends. We danced the night away and laughed until we cried. Warrick waited by the bar all night, keeping watch, which made me act out even more. I knew it was petty, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to push him over the edge. Iwanted him to take me and make me his, even if it was just for the night.

"I was celebrating," I laugh while squirming in his arms, trying to get down.

"Will you stop moving around?" he growls, gripping me tighter so I don't fall.

In rebellion, I move one more time before settling down. I'm playing a dangerous game right now. If my father saw me like this, he'd kill me, well maybe not kill me, but he would punish me. Thankfully, it's almost three in the morning, and the halls are empty except for a servant here or there. None of which would report anything to my father. Thank the Divine.

We make it to my room in no time, where Warrick places me on my bed and pulls off my heels before helping me lay down under the covers. "I'll get some pain meds and water for you," he explains before heading to my bathroom. Most people would question how he knows where everything is, but he's spent more time in my suite patching me up than even my closest girlfriends have. "Here," he returns with water and pain meds. "Take them, drink the whole glass, then sleep." He stands beside the bed long enough to watch me swallow the meds before he turns to leave.

"No," I call out softly, trying to keep my voice down in case anyone is in the hallway. "Please stay? I don't want to be alone."

"Bella," he groans, looking in pain at my request. Fuck, maybe I am misreading everything. I hoped to god that I wasn’t. It would be so embarrassing but my brain is all muddled with alcohol, so it is very possible that I have.

"No, it's fine," I choke, holding back tears. Placing the glass on the bedside, I roll over and give him my back. I can't watch him leave. Not when I was just so vulnerable with him.

To my surprise, I hear a rustle behind me before Warrick pulls the covers back and scoots me over so he can crawl into bed behind me. I hold still not wanting to scare him away. This iseverything I've ever wanted and I don't want to fuck it up, even if my alcohol-muddled brain wants to turn around and cuddle into him.

"Only for a little bit," he mutters, placing a soft kiss against my hair as his arm stretches over my side and pulls me against him.

"Thank you," I smile and snuggle deeper into his hold. Maybe now the nightmares will stay away knowing I'm safe in his arms even if it's only for a couple of hours.

"Sleep, Little One."

Chapter 2

Arabella

"Sweetheart," my mother's soft voice calls from the other side of my door. "Can I come in to help you?" I’m surprised she is here to help me, but I think it’s more because it’s what my father would expect. She knows what I can and can’t wear today and she’s here to make sure I’m sticking to my father’s rules instead of doing what I want. I wouldn’t be that reckless, not today. I’m nervous enough as it is.

"Yeah, Mom," I call out while putting the finishing touches on my makeup. I made sure to go for a more natural look today, keeping everything toned down and simple. The only thing that isn’t toned down are my eyes. The black eyeliner makes my green eyes pop brilliantly. It is the one thing I want to stand out—my unique feature.

"Oh, good," she smiles. "I'm glad you went with the simple makeup. I was worried you would overdo it, so I was coming to help. Though maybe we should tone down your eyes a little?" The way she words it tells me that it is a suggestion, and she won’t make me change it. Thank the Divine.

"No worries. I know what is expected today so I kept it simple." I give her a warm smile. Looking at her now, I can see the dark circles under her blue eyes that she hides under heavymakeup. My father didn’t let her sleep again and probably was up half the night punishing her for something stupid. Her black hair is pilled into a nice neat bun on the top of her head without a single flyaway. Even her clothes were perfectly chosen, a white flowy skirt and a yellow knit short-sleeve top with white flowers embroided on it. She paired the outfit with some cute brown sandals that keep her at the same five foot eight inch height as myself. I’m sure before she met my father she was a beautiful angel. She is still now but I can see the tired look in her eyes and the pain behind the painted beauty. I feel sorry for her everyday and despite our issues she does try to be a good mom, I just wish she would stand up to Dad more than she does.

"How about we get you into your dress? It's almost time to go and I know your father wants to arrive early to greet everyone." She guides me out of my bathroom and back into my bedroom where my white dress is waiting hanging on the armor. I really wanted to wear a different color but my mother insisted the dress had to be white. When I asked why she said white is a symbol of purity, virginity, and of the angels. I would stand out more in white than any other color. Every part of me wanted to argue but I let it be and accepted that despite my toned skin the white dress still wouldn't look good on me.

Getting into my dress and finishing my hair doesn’t take long. My mother wanted to go for a more complicated up-do, but I insisted on keeping it simple. I chose a high ponytail with curls and left a few pieces out to frame my face. It still looks cute with the dress despite being simple.

"I really wish you would let me do something more with your hair. Your future mate is going to want to see that you can dress up nicely," she tries one last time to convince me to change my mind before we leave.

"No, I still look beautiful like this. My mate should accept me for who and how I am," I argue back, opening my bedroomdoor before she can say further. I refuse to let this small thing be taken from me like everything else had been for this moment.

"Alright, Sweetheart," she settles, following me out the door.

Together we walk to the entrance where my father is already dressed in an all-white suit and waiting for me. It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes when I see him. I expected him to wear a black suit not all white. Of course, he has to stand out and turn this into something about him, not me.

"About time you showed up, what took you so long? I thought you were helping her get ready, Dardariel," my father almost snarls as he looks at us. I'm here twenty minutes early and I'm still late. He's never pleased no matter what I do.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I answer, hanging my head instead of rolling my eyes the way I want to. I learned a long time ago it was easier to submit and apologize rather than argue back. It would get me nowhere and just end in a headache for everyone.

"Do better, Arabella. We have an example to set. Let's go or we will be late and you know I loathe being late." My father walks away without looking back to see if I'm following, he just expects me to do as instructed.

---