Page 136 of Married to the Devil

There’s a knock on the door.

“Stella.”

I close my eyes at the sound of Stoneheart’s voice. I can’t handle this right now. What he said in the library is making my head spin, and I’m already nauseated enough.

“No, no, no,” I murmur before raising my voice. “I’m fine.”

I gag on that last word as if my body is rejecting my lie.

There’s silence, and I think he’s left the bedroom. I’d run here for privacy. I’d been feeling queasy, but hearing Stoneheart come to my defense and claim the baby after the upset of the man in the library detailing his plan to have me put on trial, had been too much. The waves of emotion flung me overboard.

So vomit.

“I’m coming in,” he says.

I move to lift my head so at least I can retain some dignity, but alas my stomach heaves again, and I throw up.

My eyes squeeze shut afterward. Maybe he left? But someone other than me flushes the toilet, and I lay my cheek on the cool seat again, wanting to sob.

“Go away,” I say, but instead of abandoning me like last time, his claws comb through my hair. The soft tickle on my scalp makes my muscles ease without permission, and I can’t help sighing in relief.

“I think I was too hasty in my jealousy,” he says. The words are soft with only a hint of amusement in them.

“Gods above, save me from you and your mood swings. Leave me to do this in peace,” I say but completely without the feeling that should be there.

He pulls my hair back softly, holding it in place so the next awful retch doesn’t catch it. I’m hopeful there won’t be another one, but with how it’s been going, I’m not willing to place bets.

“I’ve caused you so much pain,” he says instead of reacting to my statement. “Far better that it’s Ben’s fault that you’re miserable this time.”

My laugh echoes disgustingly in the toilet bowl. I guess we’re having this conversation now. After a moment when I’m sure that my stomach is stable, I suck in a breath and slowly sit up, wanting to see his face.

“Did you mean it?” I ask.

“Which part?”

I swallow. “About the baby being yours?”

I don’t dare ask about him saying he loved me. It was probably just an act for the councilors, and I can only take so much misery at one time.

Stoneheart heaves a deep sigh. “May I hold you?”

I hesitate. “I really need to rinse my mouth out.”

Stoneheart takes that as permission, and I don’t fight him when he gathers me into his arms. He stands and carries me to the sink, filling a glass while I’m cradled to his chest.

I take the water and try to rinse out my mouth as elegantly as I can, which is not possible, before sipping some and putting it down. Stoneheart dampens a washcloth and wipes my hot cheeks and forehead. The coolness almost has me moaning before it’s gone.

Stoneheart lifts me again, and my head falls against his chest. His scent soothes my stomach more than anything has been able to yet.

It’s so easy to let him care for me. It’s probably a weakness, but I’ve felt so lonely and gross since that first day

Anger doesn’t keep you warm at night, and frustration doesn’t ease the nausea attempting to climb up my throat all the time.

I’m not a big fan of being pregnant so far.

He sits on the bed, and a pang tightens my throat. He hasn’t answered me yet.

“People tell me I must have been born hungry,” he says. “And maybe that’s a part of it, but I wasn’t allowed to own much growing up in the clan that I did with the heritage I have.”

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