The Pull

Chapter Twenty- Three (Henry)

Henry

Shuddering and weeping, Fawn clung to me, her arms wrapped around my waist as she sat on my lap. She had been crying for the last ten minutes and I didn't know what to do. Torn between wanting to comfort her, letting her cry it out, and needing her to calm down so we could proceed to trial, I wracked my mind to find a way to make her feel better. I didn't even understand why she was this upset.

What she did in the hall was phenomenal. It had required the bravery I knew she had, and though I knew it wouldn't be easy for her, I never expected this reaction. And if it affected her this deeply, why only now is she falling apart? She had been so confident in front of Father, and now she was like a crying child. Had she been holding these tears in the whole time? Maybe something had happened that I didn't know about. I wanted to enter her mind to find out why she was so upset, but I felt that an invasion into her mind would only make it worse for both of us.

"Come on, Fawn," I soothed. "You're ok now. It's over, my love."

She shook her head. "He's so awful," her breath hitched as she spoke. "The things he did to her..."

"Who Fawn?"

"All of us, Angelica, me, your mother. Countless others. It's all true." Talking seemed to help and her sobs quieted down to small sniffling whimpers. "Felix was right to take Angelica away. She would have been ruined. Alfred can't stand the happiness of others."

"We knew he would try to get you to his bed, you were prepared for that. Did something else happen?" I asked. When she didn't answer and started to cry again, I couldn't stop myself. I had to know. I entered her mind.

"No, Henry! Don't look," Fawn cried.

It was too late, I saw what he did to my Little Fawn, the terror she felt as he licked her blood, the words he had said to her. I was frozen, rendered immobile by the rage I felt. 

He. Had. Tasted. Her. 

My protective instinct went into overdrive and I kept looking through her mind, finding all the horrendous images he sent her. His imagined mating with Fawn, her punishment, her debasement. Sick to my stomach, I growled as I flicked through them all. If my Fawn had to know this pain, this pain I allowed her to know when I had agreed to this plan, I would share it with her.

Then I saw an image, which at first I thought was her, but on second look, it wasn't. The female had a nose that was more Grecian in appearance, and her lips were not as full. Her hair was darker than Fawn's, less red and gold tones in her deep umber locks. Her cheeks were gaunt, her red and yellow eyes were sunken, empty, and she looked near starved. The female's face was twisted in pain and disgust, her features lit by a single incandescent light globe swinging over her head as my father entered her. Was it her? Was this to be the only image I had of her?

"Mother," I whimpered.

Fawn, once again proving to me that she was a lioness, pushed aside her own tears. She wrapped her arms around me, held the back of my head and guided me to her breast. She stroked my hair, soothing me as I had done for her. Despite her efforts, I couldn't be calmed and I cried, I cried for my mother, I cried for Fawn, I cried for all the females my father had done this to. Then I grew angry, rage burned within me and as calmly as I could, I lifted Fawn off my lap.

My fury could not be contained and I stood shaking and pacing my room, fists clenching and releasing as the agonizing picture of my mother's rape played over and over in my head. It took everything I had not to run to my Father and rip his throat out and drink from his skull. 

I started ranting, "He will pay for this. Pay with his blood. His actions go against everything we know about Lilith and her covenant. This is not how we behave..."