Page 52 of Sold to the Devil
The red water disappears down the drain, revealing his damaged knuckles and his flesh splintered in multiple places. Once the blood is cleared away as much as possible, he turns off the water and shakes off the excess water from his hands. I grab a clean towel and gently wrap it around his hands, patting them dry.
He doesn't flinch or make any noises to indicate pain, but I remain gentle and careful in my movements. I apply the healing cream on his knuckles, wincing at the sensation of open flesh on my fingertips.
The magical plants in it works quickly, allowing his skin to slowly heal. All that remains of his fight with Tom are a few pink scars.
My attention falls on his nose and the dried blood above his upper lip. I tilt my head to the side as I risk prodding it with the tip of my index finger, trying to discern whether it's broken or not. His jaw clenches, the only sign that his cartilage is tender, but I can't feel any fracture.
I take the towel back and dampen it slightly before cleaning the dried blood from his face. I clean above his lip and the few droplets on his cheeks and forehead.
I proceed to apply a fresh layer of cream to his nose, noticing his jaw relax as the magical properties work to heal his wounds.
He places a tender kiss on my temple in thanks as I toss the stained towel into the laundry basket, missing it by inches. Oh well, I'll pick it up later.
We return to the bedroom and slip under the sheets. Immediately, he pulls me close to his body, wrapping me tightly in his arms. A sense of security washes over me as I snuggle against him, letting my head rest on his chest, my ear pressed against his rib cage where his heart beats frantically. He sighs contentedly as his arms encircle my waist and he places a kiss on the top of my head.
“I'm sorry, angel,” he repeats in a hoarse voice.
“It's not your fault,” I insist gently.
I mean it and he knows it. He never asked me to come between them; I chose to do so. He shouldn't feel guilty about it. It's my mistake, not his.
“You were hurt because of me, so yes, it's my fault, my love,” he sighs, visibly exhausted. “We'll talk about it tomorrow. Sleep, my angel. I'm not leaving.”
A small smile crosses my face when I hear these words. Our conversation with the girls comes back to me, and I know in that moment that he will never hurt me again.
He stopped being my enemy and became my protector.
He turns off the lights, I close my eyes. His breathing stabilizes a few minutes later, I smile softly at the thought that he also feels safe with me since he falls asleep so quickly.
My eyes widen when the thought suddenly strikes me:
I'm in love with him.
CHAPTER 21
Aelys
My eyes open slowly and I notice I'm lying on top of Mattheo. My head is aching like crazy, and I frown as I remember why. I lift my head to inspect my fiancé's injuries and feel a weight lift from my shoulders when I notice the cream has worked. The scars on his knuckles are less pink since yesterday, slowly turning silver, and his nose is definitely no longer swollen.
My movements must have disturbed him because he’s beginning to stir. His eyes flutter open and his pupils meet mine.
“Hey,”I whisper.
“Hello.” His voice is still hoarse from being sleepy, and shivers run down my spine. His hands, which are on the small of my back, right next to my skin since the T-shirt I'm wearing has ridden up, gently stroke my skin with his thumbs.
A smirk tugs at his lips as he blinks, trying to banish the sleep completely from his system. “I'm going to take a shower. Are you coming?
I roll my eyes in mock annoyance before lightly patting him on the shoulder. He chuckles and kisses my temple before removing his arms from around my waist, leaving the bed. I already miss his warmth, but I watch him disappear into the bathroom with an amused pout.
I quickly hear the water running and I also leave our comfortable bed, picking up the bloody towel I used to clean his wounds the day before and placing it neatly in the laundry basket. I open my wardrobe and take out my uniform and clean underwear so I can take a shower when he's finished.
I approach my snake's terrarium, immediately noticing her coiled around a hanging branch. Her head swivels in my direction, her small forked tongue meeting the air before she crawls along the branch, exploring further.
I'll have to go get her some food this weekend.
I cringe slightly at the thought. She's still young, so she's allowed one meal a week. The only problem is, she doesn't like her meals if they're not alive.
We learned this quickly when Mattheo tried to feed her the first night we brought her back to Leroi Manor. She barely glanced in the direction of the poor, freshly thawed mouse he waved under her nose. However, when he asked the elves to find a living one and they managed to bring one back to us about thirty minutes later, the poor creature didn't have time to run far before the reptile grabbed it and bit it in the neck, its long body wrapping itself around the rodent in order to suffocate it so it could devour it.
