Page 9 of Bought By the Revenant
The moment my body connects with his, we both freeze. His body is solid and strong, but under my arms, I can feel the deep ridges of stitches across his back where different pieces of skin meet. The texture of his skin varies wildly under my touch, some patches smooth and almost normal, others rough with scars. Some parts of him feel cold against me, while others radiate an unnatural warmth that has nothing to do with normal, human body heat.
I realize what I’ve done, and panic flutters in my chest, making my heart beat faster. I should pull away because this creature, this man, is still a stranger to me despite his kindness. Yet I hesitate, because yanking myself free would only highlight my disgust at touching him, and that would be cruel after everything he’s offered me. So, I hold on even though every instinct tells me to run, and I feel his body tense up even more. His arms hover at my sides, barely touching me, and I realize he’s afraid to return the gesture, or perhaps he doesn’t remember how to hold someone. I can hear his breathing, uneven and surprised, and it occurs to me that no one has probably touched him willingly in years.
I become suddenly and uncomfortably aware of him not as a monster, but as a person who carries loneliness in every careful movement. He’s someone who may not have felt a kind touch or embrace in longer than I can imagine, and I don’t know what to do with this realization. Or with the fact that my instinct was to throw myself into his arms, when I’ve been terrified of him since the moment I first saw his face.
Chapter Six
Riven
Amity’s arms wrap around me. Her touch is light, yet I feel it everywhere. This has never happened before. No woman has ever touched me because she wanted to, not once in all my years of living. Her warm body presses against my stitched skin, and I don’t know what to do. My arms hang at my sides while I try to understand what’s happening.
Her head barely reaches my chest. I can smell her hair, earthy and clean, and I can feel her heartbeat, quick and steady against my stomach. It’s just a hug, and I need to stay calm. Breathe. Don’t overreact… In fact, don’t react at all, because what if I do something wrong? Stay calm.
So much for my pep talk, because my eyes fill with tears. I blink fast, trying to stop them. This is too much, and I’m not ready for it. I step back and break the embrace. I turn my head, so the shadows hide my face. She can’t see how much a simple touch affects me. She’ll think I’m pathetic.
“I apologize,” I say. “I have… umm… business to attend to. Nell and Fria will show you the kitchen and answer any questions you might have.”
I quickly walk back inside before she can respond, and I don’t look at her at all. I want to, but I don’t. Her mere presence right now is enough to break me.
I hurry down the corridors, barely seeing where I’m going until I reach my workshop. I close the door behind me and lean against it, finally letting myself breathe out. The smell of chemicals and old books fills my lungs, but it doesn’t calm me the way it usually does. I run my hands over my arms, where Amity touched me. Her warmth still lingers on my patchwork skin. I walk to a stool and sit down hard, staring at my mismatched hands. One is slightly larger than the other, andboth are covered in the black stitches that hold me together. These hands have never known a lover’s touch. These hands have never held someone who wasn’t afraid.
I’ve lived for more years than I can count. I’ve made scientific breakthroughs that changed everything for my kind. I have more wealth and knowledge than I could ever use. But this simple act, a woman’s embrace, has completely undone me. How lonely am I, how starved for basic human contact, that such a simple gesture moves me this much?
The worst part is knowing it meant nothing to her. She probably hugged me because she was grateful for the garden, or relieved to escape whatever danger she was running from. She didn’t embrace me. She embraced the security I give her. The safety of my house, the grandeur of every room, the kitchen she loves, the garden… I’m just the monster that comes with all these things.
There’s a knock at the door.
“Master Riven?” Tomas’s voice comes through. “May I enter?”
I think about sending him away, but I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts.
“Come in,” I call. I straighten my back and quickly wipe my eyes with my sleeve.
Tomas enters carrying a silver tray with a teapot and a single cup. His stoop looks more pronounced today, his tall frame bent forward. He moves carefully, setting the tray on my workbench without disturbing any papers.
“I thought you might want some tea,” he says, not quite meeting my eyes. This is what we do. He pretends not to notice when I’m upset, and I pretend to believe him.
“Thank you, Tomas. That will be all.”
But Tomas doesn’t leave. Instead, he starts tidying the already clean table.
“The bride seems to be settling in well,” he says. “Nell says she’s quite taken with the kitchen.”
I stay silent and watch his gnarled hands move. I’ve never asked about his stoop, about the way his spine curves unnaturally and forces him to always look down. I thought it would be cruel to mention his physical difference when I know exactly how that feels. But now I wonder if I was being considerate or just afraid.
“She seems strong,” Tomas continues when I don’t respond. “Different from most women I know. There’s a resilience to her.”
“Does it matter?” I ask, and bitterness creeps into my voice. “She chose the lesser of two evils. She was running from something worse.”
Tomas pauses in his cleaning. “Even so, Master. It’s an opportunity for... connection.”
The word hangs in the air. Connection. He makes it sound so simple.
“What do I know about connection? What do I know about being a husband? A partner to a woman?” I stand up and pace the length of my workshop. The confession comes out before I can stop it. “Today was the first time a woman has ever touched me willingly, Tomas. The first time in my entire existence. And I didn’t even know how to respond. I just stood there like a statue.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Why did I even get a bride? I don’t know what to do with her.”
Tomas stays quiet for a long moment. When he finally speaks, his voice is gentle.
“If I may be so bold, Master, I believe you know exactly why you acquired a bride. The same reason anyone seeks companionship. Because living alone is no life at all.”
