Threads of Emerald

Ropes of Fate: Chapter 38

Rupert's breathing became laboured, his pants a sweet melody as he fell atop me, sweat glistening in his silken hair.

His hand snaked around my waist. I looked down, expecting to find my naked body gleaming with a silvery sheen of sweat. Instead, thick crimson blood poured from the knife buried deep in my chest, pooling between my breasts and snaking in bloody rivulets down the creamy length of my body.

"This is all your life will consist of, Seraphina. Quick moments of pleasure to break the lacerating pain that will slice your heart and shred your soul", he leaned over to kiss me, and as he did, the room erupted into flames.

But the ceiling and walls of Rupert's bedroom changed, ornately decorated white for a faded night sky and chipped sage green paint.

Bluebell Cottage in the grasp of ash and charred smoke, but it was the smell of stale water and bitter salt that clung to my nostrils.

Rupert had vanished, leaving me in a cage of flames. I embraced them as my own until I was barely a pile of rubble and crinkling ashes and hollow screams from my torn throat and swollen lips.

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I thrashed in the linen sheets, my arm colliding with a wall of smooth skin, the same skin that curled around my wrist and cupped my face. Shards of amber glass stared into chips of emerald as I met Orion's eyes, feeling slightly dazed from the dream and wondering where I was.

I was safe with Orion. I thought the nightmares wouldn't find me tonight, I was exhausted from the journey and sated from the pleasure Orion had wrung from me over and over until we were nothing more than writhing bodies slick with salty sweat and breathless moans.

"I'm sorry", I whispered into the darkest folds of night, salt and cool water carried through the white shutters on a fluttery breeze, cooling my heated skin as I tried to steady the cacophony of pants sounding from deep within my pounding, empty chest.

"You don't need to apologise, here let me get you some water", dropping his hands, he rose from the bed and slipped his underwear back on, heading to the small bathing chamber.

I stood too, absentmindedly wandering over to the window and flinging the shutters open, the lush breeze slipping under the loose sheet I held around me with a tight fist to my chest. The sky was alight with shades of pinks and bruised purple, my eyes travelled the horizon, past the narrow entrance to the cove, the rough, jagged wall barely visible save for the slithers on moonlight illuminating random sections of the circular barrier of stones.

The sea was rough, the gentle lapping waves of earlier traded for billowing waves of violent water that reminded me of the flush of bodies in a dance floor, sensuality traded for viciousness as the crash of the surf reverberated through the barren landscape.

Orion's footsteps were barely audible as I closed my eyes and timed my breathing to the slow but vibrant thudding of the waves.

He reached around me, handing me the glass of water, which I quickly slipped and set down on the thin ledge that jutted out from the window shutters,

"Thank you", I leaned against him, soaking in the heat from his body as the icy wind pulled goosebumps to the surface of my skin. Guilt rose within me and so did a gnawing ache in my chest that I couldn't tamp down, not with kisses or skin on skin. I leaned forward, my hands gripping the ledge for support as a small son escaped my lips.

I'd felt better yesterday. Perhaps Ivor was right, my life was to be an agonising stretch of pain, but I'd cling on for the small moments of pleasure and happiness.

"Tell me what you're thinking", his voice was gentle, not pushing or commanding. I could have ignored him.

"How did you get over Affra? Could you ever feel true happiness again or did it always hurt?", I stood up straighter, turning on the spot and looking into his honey eyes.