Page 108 of Aine

I refuse to let myself cry as I slide my gaze to my hair. My hand shakes as I finger the blunt ends. Some areas are cut so short, you can see my scalp underneath, while other strands still fall below my shoulders. It’s weighed down by grease and dirt, and I doubt any amount of washing will make it look better.

Tilting to the left, I sneak a peek at the skin that once held Damien’s mark. It’s as smooth as the day I was born, not even a remnant of a scar remaining. My fingertips graze over the spot before pressing firmly against the skin, searching for the pleasure it once brought.

Now there’s nothing.

“Let’s get you showered,” Damien says, stepping into the room.

I drop my hands before he can see me mourning our broken bond, but I can tell by his expression that he noticed. Looking between me and the sink, he lets out a quiet sigh and stands behind me.

I watch through the mirror as he fiddles with the ends of my hair.

“Would you like to keep it like this?” he asks, his voice quiet as he touches the shortest strands. “Or we can buzz it and start fresh?”

My lips purse as I think it over.

I feel so much shame at the thought of being bald, but knowing it’s better than the mess I’m currently working with, I point to the shortest bits.

Damien cups my head. His actions are gentle, but I can’t shake my thoughts away from the fact that he could crush my skull with minimal effort.

We make brief eye contact through the mirror as he presses a kiss to my head, his face still covered in dirt and dried blood from his fight with Owen’s men. We both look awful. After another soft kiss, he turns on the water, his movements silent as he sets the temperature and gets a towel out for me.

When he turns to leave I panic and suck in a loud breath as I swivel to face him. The sound is enough to have Damien stopping, his face holding a thousand questions as he stares at me with his eyebrows pulled tightly together.

I look between him and the door, unsure how to ask him not to leave.

Thankfully, I don’t need to.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asks.

I nod. Damien scares me, but the thought of being alone scares me more.

Damien offers a slight smile as he nods and sits on the toilet seat. He politely looks away as I strip out of his shirt and pull open the shower door. It’s a kind gesture, but it’s unnecessary. So many others have already seen me, and one more pair of eyes is nothing.

I let out a low sigh as the hot water hits my skin, the taut muscles in my back relaxing for the first time in days. The water feels amazing, and I watch as the clear liquid turns brown the moment it touches my skin. My eyes follow the dirt as it trails down my stomach and past my legs before slowly spiraling down the drain between my feet.

Objectively, I knew my skin was covered in grime that could easily be washed off, but deep down, a fear that I’d always be filthy began to cement itself inside me. Turning away from the drain, I look through the shower door in search of Damien. The texture on the glass obscures my vision and, in a panic, I push it open to make sure he’s still here.

He looks up as I rip open the door, his body hunched over on the toilet in the same position as before. I breathe, relieved, and close the door again.

“Are you okay?” he asks in response to my odd actions.

I remain silent, letting the question die between us. I’m thankful he hasn’t pushed me on why I won’t speak. How do you explain that the thought of letting out a noise fills you with terror? I make no attempt to wash myself as I stand under the heavy stream, worried Damien will grow angry if I use his products.

It’s only a matter of time before he snaps and punishes me as Owen promised he would.

After another minute, I find myself needing to search for Damien again. His shadow’s not visible over the toilet and, in fear that he’s left, I rip open the door once more. My wide eyes meet his confused ones.

He hasn’t moved. “Do you want me to get in?”

I move to shake my headnobut pause before rejecting his offer. It would be nice to have him here in case something goes wrong. What if Owen breaks in again? It’s comforting having him close.

I nod.

Damien shows no negative emotions as he stands and approaches. He refused all suggestions from Alex and his beasts to put on clothing during the days he carried me home, simply stating they’d only slow him down.

I fail to see how putting on some pants would slow him any but chose not to dwell on it.

Damien shoots me a nervous smile as he pulls open the shower door and steps inside, his movements slow as he tries not to startle me. I watch as he navigates around my body and sits on the small shower bench.

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