Page 84 of Sold to the Devil
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Mattheo grunts through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing on Tom's face.
The younger boy shrugs nonchalantly and brings his face closer to Mattheo's, their noses almost touching. I stand up, knowing that a fight is likely to break out between them.
At least now I have my shapeshifting strength to help me if I have to intervene.
‘Angel, no. I don't want you to get hurt again, so rest your pretty ass on the bed.’Mattheo's voice growls in my mind and I nod subtly before obeying him.
“Ever since you've been with her, you've been neglecting your role as our future Master, brother,” Tom spits venomously. “You're Father's right-hand man, and yet you're not fulfilling your role like you used to. Talk about leadership!” Helaughs darkly.
As soon as the words leave his lips, Mattheo's fist connects with his jaw. Tom recoils with a grunt, his hand moving to touch the aching spot. Mattheo doesn't wait for him to react before punching him again, this time on the nose.
Tom's eyes fill with tears in shock, but he quickly recovers and lands a punch on Mattheo's right eye. He grunts in pain, and the fight intensifies as they fall to the ground. At first, Mattheo is on top of his brother, throwing punch after punch, but Tom is able to turn them around and does the same, hitting Mattheo repeatedly.
This goes on for a while, and I just sit there, looking at the now-bloody boys with a desperate expression. I decide that's enough and exhale before standing up—disobeying my fiancé in the process—and separating them by grabbing Mattheo's sweatshirt, using my shapeshifting strength. I pull him back and make him let go of his brother. They stare at each other for a few seconds, their breathing erratic, sitting on the floor, before Tom wipes the blood from under his nose with the back of his hand.
“It's not over,” he growls.
He jumps to his feet and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I sigh and walk over to Mattheo, waiting for him to get up.
I take his bloody hands in mine and lead us into the bathroom. I point at the counter with a stern look, he sits obediently, a sheepish expression crossing his features. I grab a clean towel and disinfectant for his cuts and knuckles. I wet the towel and start by cleaning the blood from his face, being careful not to press too hard on the bruises that are already forming. I then move on to cleaning his knuckles, again being careful not to hurt him.
I toss the towel into the dirty laundry basket now located in the bathroom, when I’m done and grab some sterile gauze to disinfect the cuts. He doesn't flinch once as I apply it, his chocolate brown eyes watching me intently.
I take the jar of magical herbal cream and spread it over the various bruises and cuts on his face. Everything is healing slowly but surely, so I turn my attention to his bruised knuckles and repeat the process, letting the cream close his wounds.
Once finished, I sigh and set the jar of cream back on the counter, my thumb gently rubbing his now-healed knuckles as my brow furrows as I lose myself in thought. His free hand rests on my cheek, forcing me out of my mind and toward him.
“I'm sorry, darling.”
I shake my head and lean down to press my lips to his. He sighs against my lips and his hand moves to the back of my head to deepen the kiss. We pull apart and I rest my forehead against his, closing my eyes.
I'm used to it now. Mattheo has trouble holding back his anger and often gets into fights. I've bandaged his wounds more times than I can count.
“I think Tom is up to something, Matt,” I whisper.
I feel him nod gently and he sighs again as he rests his hand on my cheek and strokes my skin with his thumb.
“I think so too,” he mumbles. “We'll find out what, angel, don't worry.”
I nod, he steps down from the counter and engulfs me in a hug, holding me tight against his body. Even though I know I'm safe in his arms, I can't help but feel like things aren't going to be okay.
CHAPTER 33
Aelys
I sit on the chair in our room at Leroi Manor, nervously looking at my reflection in the mirror. Our wedding day has finally arrived, and I'm a wreck. We arrived at the Manor last night with Mattheo, Arthur, and Nancy. I slept in our room with my cousin, while Mattheo slept in Arthur's, since it's traditional for the bride and groom not to see each other the night before the wedding.
It brings bad luck.
I didn't sleep much, I was too nervous, and I missed Mattheo's embrace terribly. It was our first night apart since we met, and it made me realize how much I depend on him.
Perhaps too much.
My gaze turns to my cousin, watching her carefully brush my hair, a concentrated pout on her features. Carmen offered to hire professionals to do my hair and makeup, but I refused. I didn't want anyone but Nancy helping me get ready. She's my cousin, sure, but she's also my best friend. We can't have witnesses at the wedding because it's not exactly a traditional union, but to me, she's mine. I know Arthur is Mattheo's, even though he'll deny it if I ask.
Nancy hums softly as she begins to tie my curly hair into a low, elegant, slightly messy bun. She slips a rhodium-plated crown depicting elegant laurel leaves into it and smiles softly, proud of her work.
“What do you think?” She asks softly, almost shyly.
