Page 113 of Deviant

“I’m fucking exhausted, Rowen. I have no idea what you’re talking about, and frankly, I really don’t give a shit. If you don’t want to sleep, that’s your problem. Some of us need at least a few hours of rest to function. And if you think I’m a brooding grump now, just wait until I go without at least a couple of hours of sleep.”

My brows pull together in utter confusion as he turns his back on me again, determined to sleep.

“Elias?” I stammer.

“What?” he retorts, annoyed.

“What animal mask did you wear yesterday for the Harvest Festival?”

“An owl’s. Why?”

“Not a wolf?” I swallow dryly, my heart falling to the pit of my stomach.

“Fuck no. Almost every asshole at that festival had a wolf mask on. Fuck, half of the guys here wore one. I think I’m a bit more original than that. Now, can I please go to sleep?”

Tears sting my eyes as I stifle my scream by biting into my knuckles.

It wasn’t Elias.

It wasn’t Elias!

I was sure it was…

I would have bet my life on it.

But apparently…I was wrong.

Maybe my mind created that fantasy so that I could detach myself from what was really happening to me.

Oh my god!

Someone tried to assault me last night. No…someone did sexually assault me.

Oh…no…no…no!

I had given my full consent to Elias, not some unnamed man. Not some faceless stranger. I don’t care how tender he was with me in the end. I wouldn’t have willingly slept with someone unless he had been… Elias.

‘Good girl.’

That’s what Elias called me just a few minutes ago, the same endearment used by my attacker. And his scent… it was the same sage and mint that is currently overpowering the air in this very tent.

Even as a child, I’ve never had a wild imagination, nor was I one to make stuff up in my head.

Well, you did hear Nora’s voice every time you tried to fling yourself off Grove Bridge.

That was different.

That was my grief talking.

Last night had nothing to do with grief but more with closure, with needing to experience something beautiful, even if ugly to the outside world, with the one person who actually sees me. Sees me for who I really am, scars and all.

No matter how convincingly he tries to deny it, I know the truth.

It was Elias.

I know it in the deepest parts of my soul.

But just as that certainty takes root inside me, so does the fact that there must be a reason why Elias wants me to believe it wasn’t him last night. That he had no part in giving me the best orgasm I ever had. That reason being, that he wants me to lose touch with reality, until I’m so far gone that I question everything else in my world.

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